“What do you mean your hip?” I narrowed my eyes. The woman might be eighty, but she was healthier than most people in their twenties. There were perks of being very, very good at using magic.

  “Or I don’t feel like going. There’s people I’m avoiding,” she said before taking a sip of her drink.

  Now, that, I believed. “Who should I watch out for at this thing and what should I tell them?” There was no point in arguing, I’d already agreed to go and the magic she put behind my agreement would do terrible things to me if I resisted. Once, when I was a kid, I’d promised not to eat the cookies she made before dinner. After eating one early, I ended up with green hair for a week. And green hair does not look great on me.

  “They won’t even recognize you, dear. It’s a Samhain Eve party. Invite only, swanky. One of those show off to the other covens kind of things.”

  “Wonderful. I’m sure I’ll fit right in considering I left the coven five years ago and haven’t used magic since then,” I said.

  “They won’t even notice. You’ll just send my regards to the host and smile and have a few drinks and hide in the corner.” She raised her eyebrows. “Like you’re doing now.”

  That was true enough. Obviously, I’ve demonstrated that I could fake it and hide in the corner until it was socially acceptable for me to leave. “Alright. How long do I have to stay?”

  “Once everyone starts to get distracted and more into the party. You’ll know when it’s right.” She sipped her champagne. “And you won’t even have to make a toast there.”

  “Fine. What do I wear to this thing?” I asked.

  Grandma looked me up and down, then puckered her lips. “Not that horrible getup.”

  I laughed. “Got it. So, basic black?”

  “What else?” she said.

  I nodded, noting the black, beaded dress she was wearing. It was her signature color. I pictured my sister trying to get her to wear pink and smirked. There was nobody who could talk grandma into doing what she didn’t want to do. The woman was my hero.

  “Calling all the single ladies to the dance floor, it’s time for the bouquet toss!” the DJ called over the speakers.

  I pressed myself against the wall. That was so far out of my comfort zone, I didn’t even want to be in the room. Quickly, I eyed the exits, trying to decide if I could get out unnoticed.

  Suddenly, my sister was right in front of me. Breathless and pink-cheeked, her smile made her whole face glow. She really was happy.

  “You’re not getting out of this one, maid of honor,” she said.

  “Oh no, you know I don’t do this,” I said.

  “You will for me,” she said.

  I frowned. She was right. I’d do anything for her. Fuck. My shoulders dropped and I let her drag me to the center of the dance floor. She could convince me to go, but there was no way I would fight for the thing.

  Her bridesmaids pushed and giggled along with the other dozen or so unmarried women fighting for the stupid bundle of flowers. I feigned a smile, but stayed in the back, avoiding the mass of people shuffling around.

  “One, two, three,” my sister called with her back turned. She released the bouquet over her head and suddenly, all the other women moved away. The thing hit me square in the chest and I caught it on reflex.

  Laugher and squeals of joy surrounded me. My sister turned and clapped her hands. “You’re next!”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Well played, sis.” It was the only way she’d ever get that bouquet into my hands. She’d managed to get all her friends in on it.

  From behind me somewhere, my grandmother cackled.

  Chapter Four

  Marcos

  I glanced at the phone number scrawled in red lipstick on my bathroom mirror. My guest had thankfully vacated my apartment by the time I’d arrived back home yesterday, but she’d left her mark for sure. Part of me wanted to remove the number, but she’d been great in the sack. And if she was up for booty calls, who was I to turn that down? You never know when you’ll hit a dry patch and need a phone number for a sure thing.

  I fastened gold cufflinks with ease while remembering the heat of her body pressed against mine. Maybe tonight I’d find a new partner. Though, witches were never as wicked in the sack as shifters. Despite my share of witches over the year, I’d yet to meet my match.

  Tracing my finger over the cufflinks, I thought about the day I’d been gifted these. Every year for the Samhain Eve ball, I wore them, starting with my first. My father gave them to me when I was eighteen and I’d worn them every year since. This was the tenth year now and the first without him.

  We’d been close enough. He’d taught me to hone my magic, reminded me that power was more important than friends. When he passed, I needed a change. I think he sensed I would since he’d willed me this apartment when he died. I didn’t even know he had it in his estate.

  He wasn’t a great dad, but he’d been enough. And he was all I had. Now, it was me and whoever the flavor of the week was. One of these days, I suppose I could settle down if I ever met my match, but I doubted it. My dad used to say that my mother had trapped his heart. She died when I was an infant, so I didn’t remember her. My father swore he’d never love again, but that didn’t stop him from entertaining a number of women throughout my childhood. He was like me in that sense, never able to find anyone he wanted around for more than a night or two.

  Quickly, I tied the bowtie, then looked at myself in the mirror. I knew I was handsome, that was never an issue. I knew I had a big head. I also knew I was damaged goods.

  If I wanted to be totally honest with myself, I didn’t let people in because they would find out too much. I’d have to be open and honest and all that shit that led to a real relationship. When my mom died, my dad had declined. His magic suffered, his health suffered, his relationships suffered. I was pretty sure he was the half-ass dad he was because of how much I reminded him of what he lost.

  Why do that to yourself? I was fucked up enough as it was without having to experience a great loss like that. That whole better to have loved and lost thing was utter bullshit. My dad never regained himself after his heartbreak.

  If that was what love did to you, it wasn’t worth it.

  No, I was happy with the way things were. And tonight, was for fishing. Finding someone to help me pre-occupy my mind and help me forget about things that made me feel.

  I knew there’d be plenty of single witches there tonight. Some of them from old families looking to find a mate. But others, they’d be there for the same reason as me. A night of passion with no strings attached.

  I grabbed my jacket off of the hanger and slipped it over my white shirt. Tonight was black tie. One of the few nights of the year I broke out the designer suit that cost more than my first car.

  On my way out the door, I grabbed my keys and the invitation. No cell phone for me tonight. It was one of the easiest ways to keep from having to write down a girl’s number. I left nothing to chance.

  The black town car pulled up in front of my building right on time. The driver came around to open the door for me. “Are we waiting for a date tonight, Mr. L’Avril?”

  “No, not yet,” I said.

  The ride was smooth, quiet, comfortable, familiar. But an emptiness hung in the pit of my stomach. I brushed the thought aside, blaming it on the occasion. Of course, I’d have feelings about my dad being gone tonight. It had to be normal.

  The sooner I got some alcohol in me, the better.

  Chapter Five

  Caitlin

  Just as my grandmother had said, a black car arrived at my apartment to pick me up. I blew out a nervous breath and felt for the invitation inside my purse. It was still there, next to my cell phone, a few folded bills, and a tube of chapstick. It was all that fit in the tiny black purse. I wasn’t thrilled about getting all dolled up like this, but I promised my grandmother.

  Granted, she’d tricked me, but it was still her. She needed the favor for whatever reason - there had to be a reason - and I was there to represent her. Despite the fact that I wasn’t a member of the coven, I wanted to make her look good.

  The driver came around and opened the door for me. “Ms. King, how are you this evening?”

  “I’m great, thanks,” I said as I ducked into the back seat.

  He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Classical music played on the radio and the leather seats smelled of cleaner. The car was immaculate and had every high-end bell and whistle. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It was meant to pick up my grandmother, who was loaded.

  When I walked away from the coven, I walked away from an easier life in some ways. Our family had money. More money than I’d ever know what to do with. It never appealed to me, but that wasn’t why I didn’t join when I turned twenty-one.

  I held a rare kind of magic. It was dark and dangerous and difficult to contain. When I was younger, I made mistakes with my training that still haunted me to this day. Without my family’s consent, I went to a voodoo priestess when I was eighteen and asked her to bind my magic.

  Since that day, I haven’t felt the magic’s pull. I rarely even sensed it in other supernatural beings. It was like I was human. And that’s the way I wanted things to be. My magic was too dangerous. My sister didn’t understand. Her magic was simple, earth based and beautiful. She was the poster child for how a witch should behave, other than that whole marrying a shifter thing. Which, I suppose, if I had to deal with the fact that she married someone, it was pretty fun that it was an act of rebellion.

  Though, her rebellion didn’t get her kicked out of the family for two years.

  It took a lot of work on my grandmother’s part and my sister begging for me to be allowed at family functions. Once my sister pledged to join, they eased up on me. I think they were honestly worried she’d follow in my footsteps.

  The car stopped in front of a gorgeous white mansion with huge columns standing guard around the front door. Trees heavy with Spanish moss surrounded the estate. Magnolia House was famous. Mostly for the party that happened here every year. A party I probably shouldn’t be attending.

  I swallowed hard as I stared at the beautiful people walking into the house. They’d all sense my bound magic. My lack of magic, rather. And they’d stare. And they’d ask questions. And I wasn’t ready for that.

  I took a deep breath as the door opened.

  “Enjoy your evening, Ms. King,” the driver said.

  “Thank you,” I replied as I handed him a twenty.

  He waved it away. “Your money’s no good here. Your grandmother took care of everything.”

  I frowned. Of course she did. “Please?” I held up the money.

  He smiled but shook his head. “Tip the bartenders.”

  “Good idea, maybe they’ll pour extra strong for me,” I said.

  He inclined his head as I stepped away from the door. “Have a wonderful evening. Ring me when you’re ready for your return.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I licked my lips and walked toward the entry, my palms sweaty. Deep breaths. All I had to do was smile, nod, and say hello to a few people. I just had to last until the party was in full swing.

  Stepping inside, I looked around at the crowds. It was dizzying. Even I could feel the pulse of the magic here. So much of it in one location was overwhelming. What did it feel like to those who had their senses in tune?

  Women in ballgowns strode past me and I instinctively smoothed my little black dress. It was my go-to special occasion dress. Something I’d picked up at a formal dress store a few years ago for half off. Now, I was wishing I’d opted for something a bit more elegant.

  Ahead, I spotted the bar. That was what I needed. Something to take the edge off. Single-mindedly focused on the bar, I beelined it straight ahead, until I nearly knocked someone over in the process. Champagne sloshed down the front of my dress and I gasped as the cold liquid hit my cleavage. “So sorry, I didn’t see you.”

  I looked around for a napkin to clean myself. Thank goodness the liquid was clear and my dress was black. It was barely noticeable.

  A handkerchief appeared, offered by a man with gold cufflinks. I accepted it and blotted my dress. Then I looked up and saw him smirking at me.

  It was the same man from the coffee shop yesterday. The one who made my breath hitch. He was even more handsome today in a very well fitted suit.

  “We’re making a habit of running into one another,” he said.

  I passed back the handkerchief. “Meeting twice in two days is not a habit.”

  “Keep it, you might need it again,” he said. “It’s got to be tough being at the biggest party of the year without a date.”

  I arched an eyebrow and glanced around for his date. He seemed to be here solo. For a second, I considered correcting him, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to make friends or hook up with anyone, least of all him.

  I tucked the wet handkerchief into his breast pocket. “I can handle myself.”

  Then I turned and walked away.

  Chapter Six

  Caitlin

  All I had to do was stay invisible for the next hour or so. For the first time since I was a teenager, I wished I could use magic. I was sure there was a way to cloak yourself to blend in with the background.

  “Caitlin King, is that you?”

  I winced at the familiar voice, then took a deep breath to collect myself. Turning slowly, I faced a woman I hadn’t seen in years. “Madam LeMan, how nice to see you.”

  My old tutor smiled her best thin-lipped, judgy smile. Her gray eyes sized me up, taking me all in. I could practically feel her measuring my aura. Fuck. When I’d walked away, Madam LeMan had faced an inquiry. She was banned from training new witches for a year, blamed for allowing me to stray. Though I’d tried to convince everyone it was of my own doing, she paid the price. We hadn’t spoken since.

  “How did you get an invitation? You’ve closed off your magic.”

  I ignored the insult. “I’m here to represent my grandmother.”

  She adjusted her stance, straightening a bit at the mention of my grandmother. While it was easy to write me off as a castaway witch, there was no denying the authority my grandmother held in the community.

  “How lovely,” she said.

  “Quite,” I said, mirroring her clipped tone. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to catch up to my friend.”

  She arched a painted on eyebrow.

  “There you are,” I said, turning and grabbing the first arm I saw. It was muscular and firm. Not a bad catch for a random grab. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

  I groaned internally. The man from the coffee shop looked more amused than surprised. While he was the last person I wanted to see, I was desperate to get away from my former teacher. I glanced toward her. “Nice to see you again, Madame.”

  She stared at me, accusation in her steely gaze. I swallowed hard, waiting for the asshole I had latched onto to push me away.

  “Come on, darling,” he said. “I have a few clients I’d like to introduce you to. Madame LeMan, always a pleasure.”

  He inclined his head to her and led me away.

  As soon as we were out of view, I dropped my hand off of his. “Sorry about that. And thank you.”

  “That must kill you,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Having to say thank you to someone.” His blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “And I have to admit, it was nice to see someone else you wanted to get away from more than me.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” I said.

  He pursed his lips, for once, holding back from saying something right away.

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” I glanced around the room, wondering if I could get away with finding an empty bedroom or storage closet to hide in for an hour.

  “Hey, it’s a party, right?” he said. “And I know you don’t like me, but the drinks are free so what do you say we each go to the bar and grab one?”

  “I’d say that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” I said.

  “You know, if you got to know me, I think you’d find out I’m full of good ideas.” He offered his elbow.

  I was about to tell him off when I noticed Madam LeMan out of the corner of my eye. Apparently, she was going to spy on me. Crazy old hag.

  With a huff, I threaded my arm through his, resting my fingers on his bicep. I already knew he looked good in a tight shirt. Now, I knew for sure, he was solid muscle under his clothes.

  For a second, I wondered if it would be so bad to let him talk me into a night in his bed. It had been a long time since I’d let go like that. Tightening my jaw, I sent the thought away. Just because he was sexy as hell, didn’t mean I should let go of the fact that he was an asshole. And that he probably had a girlfriend. Or did he? He didn’t object to me walking with him through this public space. Maybe he was single.

  Fuck. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t do it. He was bad news. He vibrated with the exact kind of magic I’d spent my life trying to avoid. If anything, I should be walking away from him, not joining him for a drink.

  We stopped at the bar and while I glanced around again for my old teacher, my pretend date signaled to the bartender. A moment later, he passed me a cocktail.

  At this point, I didn’t care what was in the drink. I just wanted to dull the nagging anxiety that was seething in the pit of my stomach like a den of live snakes.

  I gulped the drink, faster than usual. The gin went down easy. Smooth, expensive stuff, with a touch of soda. I glanced up at the stranger. “How did you know?”

  He leaned against the bar as he swirled the ice around in his cup. “The kind of drink you like?”

  I nodded. “You know, it’s generally frowned upon to use magic to read minds.”

 

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