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Authors: Erica Lucke Dean

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Twenty-Five

“T
hrow the mouthpiece into the
pot, dear. We’ll boil it down with an ounce or two of Scotch.” Mom pulled a bottle of Macallan
from an upper shelf and blew off the layer of dust. “Your father was a huge proponent of using a good single malt in all of his spells. I can’t say whether it does any good on its own, but if you drink a shot or two beforehand, it does seem to calm the nerves.” She elbowed me in the side.

Mom uncorked the bottle and I pulled in a deep breath, savoring the aroma. It brought back memories of my father.

“He used to put a dab behind his ears,” Mom echoed my thought. “He often said it was the only cologne he’d ever wear.”

“I remember.” My fingers skimmed over the cool bottle. “I always think of Dad when I smell Scotch. Even the cheap stuff.”

“Oh, your father would have never touched the cheap stuff.” She laughed then got quiet for a moment. “Could you grab the herbs, dear?”

I walked across the brightly lit space to collect the filled jars she’d pulled down from the shelves earlier. The faded labels bore the names of different herbs, and I consulted my father’s messy script on the recipe card.

It had been years since I’d been down in my mother’s basement. As a child, I was terrified of the dark corners and thick cobwebs. That room, the one filled with jars of potions and nectars, always seemed to have the most cobwebs and dust. As I stood there, reading dusty labels, I still found it hard to believe the room had been under a concealment spell my entire life. Instead of dark corners and webs, I discovered only a light coat of dust on the shelves, dozens of ornate bottles and potted herbs, windows that let the light in, and a shiny wood floor. Only after Mom had invited me in could I see the wonder of it all.

“So you think we have what we need to make the potion?” I leaned against the heavy walnut counter and watched Mom stir a heaping cup of Scotch into the pot.

“Oh, I’m sure of it. Saliva, even dried saliva, is better than nail clippings or hair. I would have mentioned it, but you have no idea how difficult it is to come by. The residual spit left on a toothbrush is usually rinsed off every time you use it.”

How my mother knew so much about casting a spell to transform an animal back into a human was a mystery I wasn’t sure I wanted to solve. But I itched to ask how she managed to keep a garden of poisonous plants a secret from her homeowner’s association.

“So where do you get something like this?” I dumped the contents of the jars on the counter and pinched a sprig of wolfsbane, careful to touch the smallest surface area possible. “And this?” I flicked the spiny fruit of the thornapple plant.

“Oh, dear.” She fanned herself with her hand. “We’ve been growing those since you were a baby. Most of the plants are heirloom varieties your father brought over from Scotland. He was the one with the green thumb, but I felt I owed it to him to keep up with it after…”

My head bobbed as my thoughts went back to my father. I wished I’d known that part of him while he was alive. “I’m guessing Dad didn’t blow up in his lab during an experiment.”

Mom grimaced and shook her head.

“What really happened?”

“Oh, Ivie, it’s so complicated.”

“Mom, please, I need to know.”

“Do you remember the party with the spotted pony—your twelfth birthday?” I nodded, and she went on. “After everyone went home, your father locked himself in his lab to work on a spell. He’d already accomplished the spotted pony and the perfect weather, so I had no idea what else he needed.”

I remembered my father tinkering around in his lab for hours on end. He’d get that wild look in his eyes and forget the rest of the world even existed. Too bad his wife and daughter were part of that world.

“Did you do spells with him?”

“Not usually, no. There were the odd few where he needed to borrow some energy, much like you’ve done with your magician. But for the most part, he did magic alone. He said it was therapeutic. Some men watch porn; your father worked spells. I wasn’t complaining… if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“God, Mom, I don’t need to know this part.”

She flashed a knowing smile. “Don’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed the benefits
of the magic. I may be old, but I’m not dead.”

Doing my best to ignore her insinuations, I pushed forward. “So you weren’t there when… when it happened?”

“No, unfortunately, I wasn’t. I was in the garden, harvesting our newest crop of foxglove. Your father had such a fondness for the pink ones.” She patted my hand. “But when I came back inside, I heard him cry out. Oh, Ivie, it was the most horrible sound I’d ever heard. It started out almost human, if not a bit distressed, but soon, it was unrecognizable. Most definitely not
a human howl.” Her eyes drifted shut and a deep shudder went through her. “Your father’s spell had gone very wrong. I’m not sure what was supposed to happen, but I’m certain he wasn’t trying to transform himself into a large red Irish wolfhound. The dog even had tips of gray, just like your father.”

My eyes went wide. “A dog? Dad turned himself into a dog?”

“He would have laughed at the irony, I’m sure. Angus hated when people assumed he was from Ireland, and he was stuck in the form of an Irish hound. If you ask me, that was what he got for drinking so much Guinness. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been so completely terrified.”

I knew my mouth was hanging open, but I couldn’t seem to close it.

“He tried to help me, bless his little heart, but I just didn’t have it in me to work magic. He would bark out answers to my questions, using his paws and his muzzle to point things out. I almost felt like I was playing a strange game of charades. We even pulled out the Scrabble tiles. It worked. For almost eleven years, mind you.” She shook her head.

I remembered when Dad died. It had been a difficult time for me. I’d lost him as I was dealing with puberty and trying to find my way in the world. But I always had that dog. He made me feel as if my father was still there, somehow.
Go figure.

My mother told me we took the dog in to help ease us through our grief. He never left my mother’s side. He slept in her bed. She even called the dog Angus. I always found it a bit disturbing. Now I understood.

“You never told me,” I muttered.

“What would I have said? ‘Ivie, your father didn’t really die. He turned into a dog.’ They would have locked me up!” She cackled. “No, I couldn’t do that. I had to provide for my child. I had to protect my husband. He was almost completely helpless in his new form. The most difficult part of the whole thing was telling everyone he’d died. I had no body. No proof of any sort. We went so far as to stage an explosion in his lab at the university. Goodness, that
wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Your father had to work an elaborate cloaking spell to pull it off—”

“Wait! Dad could work magic? With paws?”

Mom nodded. “I have no idea how, but thank goodness he did, or I might have been in the same position you are now. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it though. Your father helped me write this spell.” She pointed to the almost illegible words on the card. “It’s specifically designed to turn a dog back into a man. He couldn’t work the spell himself, and I didn’t have the craft in me. I was unable to do anything more than read the words and mix the potion. It takes a powerful sorcerer to work this magic. He never asked, but I knew he wanted me to have you try. He believed you could change him back, but I refused to bring my only child into a world that took her father from me. You understand, don’t you? I just couldn’t let the craft tear you from me too.” She dabbed at the tears forming in her blue eyes. “I know he would be so proud of you. You’re easily as powerful as he was.”

“What happened to him?” I whispered.

“He vanished one day. Ran off, I guess. I suppose his time had come. The lifespan of a dog is only a fraction of a man’s. I never saw him again.” Her eyes welled up, and she gripped my hands hard enough to leave bruises. Her face morphed into a fierce expression. “But not to worry. That won’t happen again. I won’t allow it. You
will
be able to change Matt back. I have no doubt.”

“Hello? Anybody home?” Chloe’s voice echoed down the stairs.

“Down here,” I shouted. “We’re prepping the potion.”

Chloe’s denim-clad legs caught my eye as she descended the stairs. “Ivie, I need to talk to you in private. Hurry, before Jack comes down.”

“What?”
Before Jack comes down?
“Why so secretive?” I wondered if we were about to dig up some deep, dark Blake family skeletons or something.

Chloe dragged me into a dark corner of the basement. “You’re not going to believe this.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “When was the last time you spoke with Helena?”

“Not since the field trip.”

“You haven’t checked your messages?”

“No. Why?”

“Listen to this.” Chloe pulled out her cell phone and pressed a few buttons then shoved the phone to my ear. “Just listen.”

I recognized the voice right away. “Hi, Chloe? This is Helena Ferrell. We met at the Christmas party last year. I work with Ivie. I hope it’s okay for me to call you. She had you listed on her emergency contacts. Anyway, I haven’t been able to reach her. Is she all right? I’ve left several messages, but she hasn’t returned them. It’s really important that I get a hold of her. Just have her call me, okay?”

The message cut off, and I looked at Chloe. “I wonder what she wants.”

“I’m way ahead of you.” Chloe punched another number into her phone and held it up to my ear with a shrug. “I hacked your voice mail.”

I scowled at her until Helena’s voice came through the line again. “Goat girl! You didn’t come to work today. You all right? You should have dragged your ass in. You got a special phone call. Sexy veterinarian, Dr. Doggy Style, called to see if you were okay. He even left his number for you. He sounded very worried. Well, I didn’t talk to him myself, but Mrs. Cooper in the office said he sounded concerned. He wanted to speak with you, but you know her. She wouldn’t give out your name or number. I guess he asked for the beautiful teacher accosted by a farm animal on the field trip. Anywho, you need to call him.” Helena rattled off the phone number. “You’d better dish the deets to me later. Talk to you soon!”

“The vet left his phone number for me?” My voice came out in a squeak. “Talk about horrible timing.”

She grinned. “Two guys head over heels for you? What a terrible dilemma to have.”

I turned just in time to see the Blake brothers saunter down the stairs, a big ball of black fur clutched in Jack’s arms.

“Karma!” I hurried to Jack’s side to pat the scruffy cat’s head. “You brought him.”

“I told you I would.” Jack leaned in to give me a quick kiss then barked out a laugh. “It’s a good thing I did, too. He’d shredded my new sheets. Like he was dead set against me ever sleeping in my bed again.”

“Bad kitty,” I scolded.

The cat jumped out of Jack’s arms and rushed toward my mother.

“Well, hello, kitty.” Mom bent down to stroke his fur.

“How long before the potion is ready?” Jon asked.

“Once it’s mixed up, we need to let it steam until the liquid is all but burned off. It needs to be more of a powder,” Mom said. “We’ll let it sit until tomorrow night. Ivie can’t work the spell until then anyway. She needs to wait for the dark moon.”

Jon looked at his watch. “Tomorrow night? That’s Halloween. I was hoping to get back to Vegas before then.”

“What’s the rush, brother?” Jack asked, and we both eyed Chloe. She put on a brave face, but I could tell she was heartbroken at the idea of Jon leaving.

“My job, man. Halloween is a big deal. If I don’t get back, they’ll get one of those fucking new guys to take my place. Dude, you don’t know how it is in showbiz. In the big leagues, you disappear for longer than a few days and they forget your name.”

“Maybe we don’t have to wait until night.” I turned to my mother. “What about sunset?”

“Well, I suppose so.” She stroked Karma’s fur absently. “There’s nothing that says the spell has to take place at midnight.”

“Great. It’s settled. As soon as the sun goes down, we’ll change him back.”

“Oh, not here,” Mom said.

“What do you mean, not here?” I asked.

“Well, we have to change him back in the same place you changed him originally.”

My mouth fell open, and I stared wordlessly at my mother for at least a full minute.

“Didn’t I mention that?”

“No, Mom, you did not mention that.”

“That would have been good to know, Mrs. McKie,” Jack said, pulling my frozen body against his. “Sneaking back in the house with Scooby Doo just might
draw attention to us.”

“How are we supposed to get inside in broad daylight without getting caught, on Halloween no less?” Chloe asked.

Pushing away from the counter, I pulled myself up to my full height. My lips curved up as an idea struck me.

 

Twenty-Six

“O
kay, Chloe, you’re in charge
of Halloween shopping. We’ll all need costumes, but remember, the more discreet the better.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I know just the thing.”

“No hooker-wear, please. We’re not going to a party. We’re trying to come in under the radar.”

Her face fell, and she blew out a breath. “Fine. Then can I bring Jon with me? With only one shopping day left, the stores may be pretty picked over. I could use his help.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Jack wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on top of my head. “It won’t look as conspicuous if two of you are buying up all the costumes. Too bad we can’t swing by Vlad’s Castle and clean out my trunk.”

“No.” I turned in his arms. “They know who you are now. They may have someone watching your house or even the club.”

“You’re right.” He kissed my temple as I checked costumes off my to-do list. Then he took his warmth with him as he walked over to Chloe and Jon, rattling off suggestions as they headed for the stairs.

“What about me, dear?” Mom perched on the corner of the threadbare red and green plaid sofa that had occupied the family room in what seemed like another lifetime. Karma stretched across her lap as she stroked his fur. “What can I do to help?”

“You’ve already done so much. The potion is cooling. I’ve written the spell out using Dad’s original as a guide. I stuffed the duffel bags you gave me with everything I could think of to bring. I think I’m good.” I blinked against the urge to cry. “Without you, I wouldn’t have had a clue what I was doing.”

“Oh, that’s what mothers are for, dear. But if you’re sure you don’t need me, maybe I’ll just take Kitty here and we’ll go pick him up some treats. Would you like that?” She smiled at my cat, and he nuzzled her cheek.

“Rose, we can ride together.” Chloe paused with the toe of her black patent-leather Louboutin resting on the bottom step. “The pet store might have something we can toss over Dr. Doggybreath since
he’s
a fugitive from justice now, too.”

I shot Chloe a scowl. “Thanks.”

Her little-girl laugh bounced off the concrete walls as she ascended the stairs, my mom close on her heels. “Hey, what are friends for, right?”

I waited until I heard the front door close. “Are we really alone?”

“We are. Amazing, isn’t it?” Jack’s arms came around me as he tucked my head under his chin and rocked us from side to side. “This may be the last quiet we get for a while.”

“Whatever shall we do?” I giggled.

“I can think of a few things.” Jack’s lips whispered through my hair.

“Don’t tell me: Parcheesi, Monopoly, or chess?”

“Sure. I might even have a few moves I could show you.”

“Chess moves?”

“Why not? My, um,
bishop
might enjoy taking your, uh,
queen
.”

“Why, Jackson Blake, if I’m not mistaken, it sounds like you’re flirting with me.”

Jack’s mouth found its way to my ear. “You’re definitely not mistaken, Miss McKie.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to see my old childhood bedroom.”

“Hmmm.” His fingertips teased the hem of my ivory cashmere sweater as he raised it to expose my stomach. “I would actually love
to see your old bedroom.”

A slow grin lit my face. “Follow me.”

With our fingers linked and butterflies in my stomach, I led Jack to my former room. I stood at the threshold, contemplating what it meant to have him there, and shrugged off my adolescent insecurities. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. The faint scent of Love’s Baby Soft lotion and Lemon Pledge wafted out.

“So how many boys have entered the inner sanctum?” he asked, taking in the bubblegum-pink walls—lined with a border of light-purple coneflowers—that hadn’t changed since I was six.

I squeezed his hand. “You’re the first.”

He glanced at me then the bed. “Is it crazy that I’m honored to be the first?”

“No.” I beamed. “Not crazy.”

Jack may not have been the first guy I’d slept with—heaven knew I’d dated in college—but despite the time I’d spent engaged to Matt, Jack was the first man to truly breach the walls of my heart.

No longer interested in the dated décor, Jack scooped me up, carried me to the double bed, and tossed me onto the fluffy white comforter. He followed me down and stretched out beside me on our own personal cloud.

“You’re so beautiful.” He leaned in to brush his lips against mine.

Beautiful?
My hand flew up to my flaming tangles.
Would he even give the
real
me a second glance?

“It doesn’t matter what color it is.” He extricated my fingers from my hair and pressed our joined hands against his chest. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me? Not just my body—my heart. You’ve woven your way under my skin, and it had absolutely nothing to do with magic.”

His hand shook, and I felt his pulse racing in time with mine. For the first time since we’d started… whatever it was we were involved in, I felt the weight of the intimacy between us. As I gazed into his eyes, I knew he felt it too. Things had just gotten serious.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he stopped me with his lips, his body pressing me into the soft mattress.

“I want you, Jack. So much.” I clutched at him, trying to convey the feelings I couldn’t express. I may not have been able to
say
those
words, but I could show him how I felt.

“Stop.” He grasped my hands in one of his, dragging them over my head to pin me to the bed. “Listen here, little witch, I get to be in charge this time.” He pressed a firm kiss to my throat, nibbling the fragile skin as he spoke. “Let me take care of you for a change.”

A tremor ran through me, and Jack’s free hand snaked under my sweater, caressing the skin low on my stomach before he worked his way up my body, rubbing circles with his thumb as he inched toward my breasts. “Is that a yes?”

I whimpered, and I gave him a shaky nod. I had no idea giving in could be such delicious torture.

He pushed the cashmere until it bunched under my chest and the downy fibers tickled my ribs. I writhed against the fluffy comforter and Jack smirked, never removing his lips from their path across my jaw and down my neck. “Where are those handcuffs when I need them?”

The idle threat in his honeyed voice had me squirming, my thighs clenching and unclenching as I tried in vain to satisfy my aching need. “You’re killing me.” My breath came out in shallow gasps as he continued his assault on my senses. His kisses turned to nibbles and licks as he worked his way back to my lips.

“I did promise to take my time.” He pulled away, releasing my hands, and I lifted my head for him to pull the sweater the rest of the way off and toss it behind him.

“I think these”—his hot breath fanned over my bare chest—“have finally stabilized. And at the perfect size, I might add.”

His gaze seared my skin like a caress, and I worried my lip between my teeth. “What if they go back to the way they were?”

Jack kept his eyes on mine as he ran his tongue across my puckered nipple before sucking it and releasing it with a pop. “Then that would be the perfect size. I don’t think you get it. It’s you I want, not just your random body parts.” He licked his lips then kissed me again before switching sides and teasing my other peak until I almost begged him to stop.

“Jack, please.” I wriggled as he slunk down my body, my skin pebbling everywhere he touched.

“Patience, my little witch,” he said against my stomach. “I told you I’m taking it slow this time.”

Slow.
If only we could draw it out forever.

Jack kissed down my torso, and my body vibrated with anticipation. Making quick work of my button and zipper, he flashed a lazy grin and curled his fingers around my waistband. He yanked my pants down and away, like a magician pulling a tablecloth from under a full dinner service.

My tongue darted out to moisten my lips, tasting the three little words I’d said at least a thousand times—but never to someone so worthy—as they threatened to tumble out. The connection I felt to the man above me was nothing I’d experienced before, and it terrified and excited me.

“My turn,” I whispered, slipping buttons through holes to open his indigo shirt.

My trembling hands slid over his chest, edging closer to his fly, pausing at the brass buttons before working to free his straining erection.

Jack stilled, his mouth curved into a teasing smile as I writhed beneath him, willing him to touch me. His long fingers twitched as they hovered above my hips and the hem of my white lace panties before hooking under the elastic and dragging them down my legs.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you.” Jack drank in my body, causing the ache between my thighs to throb as he kissed from my ankle to my knee.

I let out a shaky laugh. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this.”

His mouth paused halfway to my hip. “Oh, yes…” He resumed his path, lighting little fires as he climbed toward the promised land. “Actually, it is.”

My body shuddered when he reached my center, his hot breath fanning across my sensitive skin as his mouth worked its magic. It was official; the guy was trying to kill me. My limbs had turned to Jell-O and my heart hammered out a tune that sounded suspiciously like “Magic Man.”

“Going… to make… me faint…” I panted as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.

Jack smirked at me from between my legs. “Don’t worry, I know CPR.”

I gripped his hair in both hands, dragging him up until our noses were practically touching. “Make love to me, Houdini.”

He nodded. The man didn’t need to be told twice.

Jack rested on his elbows as he cupped my face, and his lips captured mine in a dizzying kiss. Snaking a hand between us, he lined himself up, and with one deep thrust, he buried himself inside me. “Open your eyes.”

My eyelids fluttered open, and I locked my gaze with his.

He held perfectly still, giving my body a moment to adjust to his size before rocking into me. Each plunge stretched me further. I loved how he filled me and his weight as he moved above me. With each stroke, the muscles in his back bunched and contracted beneath my palms.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, tangling his fingers in my hair and closing the distance between us to press his lips to mine.

I’d never felt so close to another person. Our bodies were entwined, our tongues tangled, our breath shared. But it was more than purely physical. My heart had matched his rhythm, my blood pumping in time with his, and I never wanted to let go of the connection.

I broke free, my lungs screaming for air. “Jack… I-I…” I dove back into the kiss to keep from saying the words.

He groaned into my mouth, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he picked up the pace. “Shhh… just feel me.”

What had started as a faint prickle along my skin erupted into a massive chain reaction of fireworks spreading throughout my body. The current spiked, making every nerve ending tingle and my fingers glow. I was close… so close.

“Let go,” he whispered, somehow sinking even deeper into me. “I can’t hold out much longer.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to keep him captive for as long as I could. “Jack…” I arched my back as pinpricks of light blurred my vision and, exactly as he’d promised, I shattered into a million pieces beneath him.

“That’s it. Come for me.” He growled deep in his throat, his hips grinding against mine in a furious rhythm, before his body shuddered then stilled. He didn’t move for several moments, holding himself above me while his breathing slowed. He rolled over and collapsed into the pillows, hauling me into his arms. “Wow.”

I couldn’t agree more.
I propped myself on my elbow and ran a finger down his chest through the light sheen of sweat coating his skin. My body hummed like a finely tuned engine after winning a race. If I had known that was what he meant by slow
,
I would have given in sooner. And often.

Jack’s thumbs rubbed lazy circles on the back of my neck as he caught his breath. “That was—I can’t even. Ivie, I…” He shot up from his prone position to crush his lips against mine, swallowing whatever he was about to say.

A door slammed downstairs. “We’re back,” Chloe yelled, her voice echoing up the steps.

I fell against the pillow and blew out a breath. “I guess this officially ends our quiet time.”

Jack dropped to the mattress beside me with a groan. “Yeah, I suppose it does.” He weaved his fingers into mine and brought them up to kiss each of my knuckles. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

I giggled. He’d read my mind. “Be careful what you wish for. You are talking to a witch, you know.”

“So does this mean you’ll take my wish under advisement?”

“Definitely.”

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