Wickedest Witch (7 page)

Damn but she brought out his crude side. Unlike any other woman
, though, she didn’t run away from his crassness, nor did she burst into tears; instead—and Ryker couldn’t believe this—she looked at him with something akin to admiration.

“You wouldn’t dare
,” she snarled.

“Try me.”

They stared at each other, the air thick with tension, her scent, a mixture of angry ozone and simmering arousal, swirling around him.

Come on, baby. Dare me. Do something. Make me kiss you. Beg me to fuck you.
He almost growled in disappointment when she backed down.

“Fine,” she said after a moment of silence. “We’ll work together
, but no more kissing. Or touching. Now let me go.”

Ryker let her loose, surprised she’d agreed so easily. He’d really hoped he’d get to
plunder her luscious mouth again. He watched her step away from him and resume her magical facade.

“Oh, would you drop it already
?” he said, following her outside. “I know what you look like, so there’s kind of no point.”

“I happen to like
this look,” she said coolly.

“What,
presenting yourself as a skinny, uptight bitch? Your real body is much hotter.”

Using th
at as his parting shot, he straddled his sport bike, crushing his aching sac. With a twist of his throttle, he shot off, eager to get home to relieve the pressure in his groin.

A part of him wished things had gone differently
because despite his adeptness when it came to masturbating, he feared the only cure for his massive blue balls resided between the creamy thighs of one foul-tempered witch.

Long after Ryker had disappeared from sight, Evangeline continued to stare down the long drive, caught in a daydream where he turned around and rode back to her. In her fantasy, he wouldn’t say anything, he’d act, dragging her onto his lap, kissing her hard before they rode off together to find a place where they could tear off each other’s clothes and screw each other’s brains out.

So vivid,
so arousing, and yet at the same time, totally impossible. They hated each other. Wanted each other. Were complete opposites. Sexually, though, he was gasoline to her fire. She’d probably end up having to kill him. She just didn’t know if she’d sate herself with his body before she ended his miserable existence. A conundrum for sure.

T
he man is so goddamned annoying, but by the hag’s third warty tit, he is also freaking hot.

When he’d issued the ultimatum to work with him or he’d kiss her, she’d almost closed her eyes and pursed her lips.
She could lie, more than usual at any rate, if she tried to deny how much she’d enjoyed their interrupted embrace. But getting involved with him? Pure madness.

Mother would have a kitten if she found out I was dating a shifter. Then again, I don’t really want to date him, just have wild,
raunchy sex with him.

Witches and shifters did not mix.
An even better question; why on Earth would she even consider getting involved? So what if the attraction seemed mutual? He had as little respect for her as she did for him. Not to mention his whole dominance problem.

Evangeline
enjoyed being in control. Somehow, she didn’t see Ryker catering to her. No, he appeared as the kind of who took. Overpowered. Imposed his will—especially in the bedroom. She shivered with arousal.

This wouldn’t do at all.

Realizing she stood outside of her employer’s house, lusting after her temporary partner, she called for her broom, which she’d stashed behind some bushes. It zipped up and she climbed on board, the wooden handle rubbing against her sensitized bottom. But squirming on her transportation for a cheap thrill while in plain view? Not happening. She’d wait until she got home to take care of
business
.

C
asting an invisibility cloak, she flew through the blue sky, blasting the occasional pigeon out of the air—only the stupid or bird-brained dared cross her path. Despite this distraction, her thoughts still strayed toward lusty fantasies involving the oversized shifter.

I need my vibrator
—
the really big one
—
right now.

Or she could get to work.
With only a few days to plan and investigate, she’d have to pull in a few favors and work overtime if she didn’t want to encounter any surprises.

Since
greed, usually in the form of money, was the root of most evil, she decided to investigate that aspect first. And she knew just the person to harass for help.

“Hello, little sister.”

Isobel screamed before whipping around clutching her chest, immaculate as always in a prim button blouse and pearls with her hair tucked into a casual chignon. Perfect on the outside, yet a Rasputin at heart. “Holy fuck, Eva. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you. You are lucky I didn’t blast you to bits.”

“As if you could. We both know your magic isn’t on par with mine.” Evangeline flipped her hair and buffed her nails.

“Maybe not usually, however, Chris gave me a present. See this?” Her sister dangled a charm bracelet at her. “Made by Lucifer’s sorceress herself. It augments my power.”

“Really?” Intrigued, Evangeline leaned forward for a closer peek.

Isobel snatched back her arm. “Get away from it. You are not getting your claws on it, sis.”

“I don’t need gaudy jewelry to aid me.”

“Says the girl who wears a glamor. I swear I could shake you for being so stubborn. You look perfectly fine without it.”

“I wouldn’t talk, or does the hair on your head suddenly match that of your pubes? On second thought
, don’t answer that. I do want to know, however, why you’re not taking more care with yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the future bride of the antichrist.”

“His name is Christopher.”

“Whatever. Given who he is, and who you are, no one should be able to sneak up on you. What if I were an assassin? Or a kidnapper looking to take you hostage in an elaborate scheme to blackmail the heir to Hell?”

Arching a blonde brow, her sister smirked. “First off, Lucifer himself has put protective spells around me
that will call a horde of demon guards if anyone dares harm me.”

“Yet it let me through.”

“Because you’re not a threat. You’re my sister.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill you.”

“Are you still pissed about my choice of colors for the wedding party?”

Evangeline glared at her younger sister. “You know I hate pink.”

An evil grin stretched across her sister’s mien as Isobel replied, “You’re not the only wicked one in the family.”

A chuckle escaped her. “
Don’t I know it. I think Hell’s in for a surprise when you move in.”

“Which won’t be right away. Christopher and I plan to enjoy a few years topside traveling and causing havoc before retiring to the pit so he can start taking over some of his dad’s duties.”

“I look forward to reading of your exploits in the papers. But your future isn’t why I’m here. I want you to look up something for me. I need the complete financing history for a certain divorcee.”

“You want me to divulge confidential information, break some laws
, and give you possibly incriminating details?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Sweet and innocent appearing on the outside, Isobel was as wicked as they came. And given she was marrying Lucifer’s heir, would only get m
ore so. Evangeline almost wiped a tear in pride. All those years of torturing her sibling, playing tricks, and engaging in a competition to prove who could do the wickedest deeds paid off. Isobel caught the eye of the great Lord himself and captured the heart of his son.

And now they planned to marry, not in a traditional ceremony involving church and God
-based religions—Grandfather would have gone toe-to-toe with even the Lord of Hell himself if suggeste
d—
but in a more appropriate ritual requiring blood, sacrifice, and magic. It also unfortunately involved a puffy pink dress, uncomfortable shoes, and playing nice for a few hours.

Ugh. The things she did for family.

After he left Rumpelstilt
skin’s mansion, Ryker needed distraction else he might have done something stupid such as flipped his bike around and ridden back to abduct a certain curly-haired witch. Sure, he disliked her—she was rude, arrogant, not to mention a witch. But, some of her actions were caused by his behavior. He did kind of do it on purpose to drive her nuts by verbally sparring with her and making outrageous suggestions. What could he say? She was cute when she got riled up. Cute and sexy. A part of him understood it was wrong to want to put her irritation with him to good use and have angry sex with her. And then make up sex. Followed by some sensual sex. And…

Talk about a bad case of lust abetted by his inner feline. Finding himself fighting
on several fronts, he did the only thing he could in such a dire situation. He went to Barry’s bar.

A beer while on a case? It seemed like a dereliction given the tight timeline on his newest job, however, while the draft ale he ordered in a schooner
-sized mug was to help with his witch dilemma, the information he gleaned from Barry would hopefully aid him in his case. Multitasking at its best.

“
Tell me what you know of Rumpelstiltskin,” he asked after chugging half his mug first to take the edge off.

“Can I ask why first?”

“He hired me to do a job. I want to know who I’m dealing with. All I know is he’s been around for a while. Has that story about him about spinning straw into gold and trying to bargain for some queen’s kid. Oh, and that he’s one ugly fucking gnome.”

“Gnomes are smaller.”

“Then what is he?”

Hi friend shrugged as he towel dried some glasses. “Fuck if I know. He’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding. And loaded from what I saw. What can you tell me about him?”

“Keep in mind, most of what I know is rumor.”

Rumor with a grain of truth. “That’s fine. Spill.”

“Well, first off, the dude
in the stories, the one who made that bargain? Supposedly, that was his great-great-granddaddy.”

“So he’s named after him.”

“All the males in their line are. Or again, so rumor states. No one has ever actually met any of the boys when young. One day, a younger version just appears and the elder one is gone.”

“Patricide?”

“Possibly. Or as soon as the heir is ready, the old guy steps down and retires into obscurity.”

“
And no one knows what he is? Could he be some ugly fairy?”

“
One, there are no ugly fairies. And two, not only does he lack the ears, he doesn’t have the wings either. Trust me, people have tried over the years to figure out what group he belongs to, but no one came up with a definitive answer.”

“But he’s got magic.”

“Lots of it. Enough to hide his true self if he wanted.”

“So he could be a giant pink demon for all we know.”

“In theory.”

“I shook his hand.”

“I take it he stayed the same.”

“Not even a glimmer. If he’s wearing a glamor then it’s one strong enough to withstand a shifter’s touch.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting to you, tells me nothing.”

Barry shrugged as he put the clean glasses away under the bar. “What do you want from me? I’m not going to make up shit. I told you I didn’t know much. The guy keeps to himself.”

Not getting anywhere with his current line of questions, Ryker changed tracks.
“His daughter seemed human enough.”

“
Probably because she takes after her mother. I’ll admit, I’m surprised you got to meet her. He usually guards her from the outside world.”

“She’s part of the job I accepted.”

“Better not fail. Rumpelstiltskin is not one to forgive. And from what I hear, he dotes on his little girl.”

“I always deliver.
What do you know of the mother? You said she was human. Is she a witch? Descended from anyone I should know of?”

Barry shook his head. “As normal as they come if longer lived and well preserved.
He met her back in the beginning of the nineteenth century. But she looks like she’s not older than thirty-five. Gossip in the henhouse claims she used to run in some dark magic circles, add to that the artifacts she no doubt collected during her marriage with Rumpelstiltskin and you’ve got a woman who might be prepared to do just about anything to stave off age.”

“So she might be into magical versions of
Botox?”

“I would have called it more along the lines of cell rejuvenation, but yeah.
”