kind of shy, so she could hardly blame him for the rough stuff. She could certainly blame the minions. But not Ed. Right?
She, the most powerful witch in Paris? Hardly. Certainly there were many witches more powerful. While she had mastered all four elements, she was sadly lacking in the various -mancys and study of specific magics. Perhaps only a warlock or thousand-year-old witch might be so powerful. But if she had copped to the truth, he would have tossed her out in search of the real deal. And by all means, she wanted to work with him.
To learn about demons, of course.
It wouldn’t be because she found him handsome and was intrigued by his many tattoos and didn’t want to end what his hot kisses had only begun.
Maybe a little.
“I have a date with a demon,” she said as she spun into the bedroom to check her closet for an appropriate dress. Something sexy and yet it was a business date, so no lace and nothing too low cut. But always body-hugging.
“A date with a demon who kidnapped me,” she corrected herself, her enthusiasm wilting as her fingers slid over the red silk wiggle dress. “What are you doing, Tamatha?”
“I should ask the same.” Amberlee, a fellow witch friend, had stopped by an hour ago with some fresh rue and megabytes. Amberlee practiced tech magic. She wandered into the bedroom and plopped onto the end of the queen-size bed. Her bright red bob contrasted with her severely arched black brows, but both matched her red-and-black-striped dress. “You’re talking to yourself, mon amie. Or are you working a spell? Am I interrupting?”
“No. Did you get the memory installed on my laptop?”
“Yes. Now you have ten times as much space to ignore on that tech device that always has dust on it.”
“I’m not much for technology. I prefer paper and pen.”
“Then why the upgrade?”
“I do like to store the photos I take with my phone. The laptop serves as an excellent photo album. I’d like to photograph my grimoire someday and keep that safe.”
“Let me know when you do that. Tech magic tends to distort grimoire text. The two magics clash. You won’t know it until it’s too late and your valued grimoire has been completely erased. You’ll need a spell to properly store any information.”
“Good to know.”
Tamatha pulled out the purple velvet dress and held it before her. The fitted fabric would hug her slender frame and accentuate her cleavage with a sweetheart neckline. The black lace collar had skulls worked into the intricate stitching.
“I adore that one,” Amberlee said. “Sensual with a touch of goth. So you’ve seduction in mind?”
“You think it’s too sexy?”
“I’d do you wearing that dress.”
“Yes, well, you’d do me, him and it, so I won’t take that one personally. Who, or what, is your date tonight?”
“A werewolf from pack Conquerier. Sweet guy. Intense sexual appetite. He likes to howl.”
“Nummy.”
“Yeah, I like to howl right along with him. Especially when he hits the sweet spot with his fingers. What about your date?”
“It’s not really a date. I’m going to cleanse an office for a guy. A demon, actually.” She caught her friend’s nod of approval.
“Demons do it devilishly,” Amberlee said. “Or wait. Is this to do with your venture into diabology? Please tell me you don’t intend to simply study this guy.”
“Yes, study is exactly what I had in mind.” She pulled the dress off the hanger. “I have already performed a binding spell on him, and he didn’t hold that against me. Not too much. Maybe a little? I certainly won’t hold the kidnapping against him.”
“The—what? Slow down, Tamatha. I seem to be missing something here. Some demon kidnapped you? And now you’re going on a date with him?”
“Suffice, we had an interesting meeting. And tonight...” She slipped into some high black Louboutin heels with purple tulle bows on the toes. “After the business of cleansing murdered spirits is completed, I want to talk to him. Learn about him. This date is strictly for the purpose of furthering my demonic research.”
Amberlee put up a palm as she shook her head miserably. “You’re killing me, Smalls. You and your work ethic. Please say when such research is concluded then the dress will come off. Maybe show the demon a few of your tattoos?”
“Don’t be silly. I never have sex with a man on the first date. That’s just gauche.”
“What about Love Often?”
“I do. But you don’t expect me to love him after one rather curious meeting, do you?”
“I suppose not.”
“Besides, I don’t know anything about him beyond that he’s a corax demon—that means he can shift to ravens—and he’s an excellent kisser. And he did have me brought to him, so I can only assume he’s got no hang-ups about the demon-witch thing. Although he does seem to say the word witch with more vitriol than anyone should. Hmm...”
Amberlee rolled her eyes. “You and your adventurous heart. Be careful, Tamatha. And don’t forget your white light before you go.”
“Good call. I wasn’t wearing it when his henchmen kidnapped me this afternoon. Best to go prepared.”
“Henchmen?” Amberlee thrust up her palm. “I won’t ask. I know it’s wild, adventurous and your kind of weirdness. I’m headed home to pack. The wolf is bringing me to the Rhône Valley for the weekend. He owns a castle. If I’m lucky I’ll get to have sex with him fully shifted. Fur and fangs, baby!”
Tamatha did not disguise a shiver as her friend pranced out, en route for some kinky werewolf sex. Getting naked with a man shifted into animal shape was so not her scene. She’d never thought about sex with the familiar in his cat form. But she did like her men interesting.
“And, apparently, with horns,” she said to her reflection.
Unzipping the dress, she stepped into it and pulled it up. Purple velvet seduction? So maybe a little flirting could be allowed. After the business.
* * *
The air held the dry, sweet scent of sage and lavender long after Tamatha had finished the cleansing. She’d focused her energy toward the marble floor and walls where the vibrations of whatever vile act had occurred in this room lingered. Lives had been stolen. More than one. In hideous manner. She didn’t want to know the details. It wasn’t important. The spell captured those remnants, and with the use of her air magic, she sent them through the window and into the ether to dissipate.
Barefoot, she stood up from her kneeling position on the floor in the middle of the salt circle she’d poured earlier. Eyes still closed, she swept her hands over her head and down her body to clear away any negative energy that may have latched on to her. And then, drawing her hands up her body from toes to crown of head, she replaced that sensitive open aura with a white light.
When she opened her eyes, the demon stood three feet away from the line of salt, hands shoved in his black trouser pockets. This evening he wore a gray-striped business shirt without a tie, and the open collar revealed tattoos or sigils that climbed his neck. Sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing yet more black ink in various designs. Gave him a bit of a gangster vibe. Add to that the dark hair parted neatly at his right temple, slicked back with a bit of pomade, and his gray eyes that held a hopeful curiosity, and he took her breath away.
Oh, what another kiss might lure her to do. Like unbuttoning that shirt and running her palms over his chest, which was nicely muscled, because the shirt stretched over some well-honed pectorals.
Of course, that meant he was strong,