a conjuring, so I suspect that makes them stronger, as well. A witch can only control a demon they have conjured personally.”
“Exactly. Yet they can’t access my magic, which is a good thing. Just wish I had more control over it.”
“There must be something. Some spell?”
“I haven’t had a lot of free time to research in the Council archives, though I wonder if the answer isn’t there.”
Vika stopped before him, crossing her arms over her chest. The position emphasized her small breasts and revealed the hard peaks of her nipples beneath the thin fabric. Sexy, yet controlled, and perhaps a little curious. CJ entertained mussing her up. She would be a challenge he wasn’t prepared to take on because his record with women—well, he hadn’t established much of a record over the decades.
You need to change that, buddy. But probably not with a witch who called him a derelict and couldn’t even utter the name of Daemonia. Much too uptight for him, though he’d seen glimpses of the sensuality she probably tried very hard to keep under control.
On the other hand, he needed intimacy, plain and simple. Dare he imagine he could find it with this beautiful creature?
“You’re staring at my breasts,” she said drolly. A shadow passed over her face as the sky darkened.
“I am.” He spread his hands before him. “They’re nice and neat. Just like you.”
“That’s the strangest thing a man has ever said about my breasts.”
“You prefer suckable? Lickable?” Her eyebrow lifted. “Sorry, that was vulgar. I’m not up to speed with accepted comments on a woman’s anatomy. But isn’t that what most men think? Hell, it’s what I’m thinking, but I thought we were still on polite terms.”
“I think you’ve moved on to lewd and tasteless.”
“Woman, get off your broom.”
“Seriously? Did you just say that?”
Before he could retract the callous comment, she marched to the driver’s door and opened it. “We’re finished here, Monsieur Jones. Do not return to my home, because I warn you, it will be warded against asshole witches from this day forth.”
And she drove off, leaving Certainly shaking his head and laughing. Yet deep inside, he felt the gang of demons curl their fists and shout triumphantly.
* * *
Once the hearse reached the end of the alleyway, Vika stepped on the brake and slammed a fist against the steering wheel. “I will not let that arrogant man get to me. He doesn’t know a thing about me.”
So why did she feel as though the dark witch had peeled away a layer from her, and what he’d exposed beneath was still as pin-neat as the top layer? Uptight? She was not. And she was hardly a prude. Men had spoken much more vulgar things to her, and often she warmed to the dirty talk. Let it not be said she didn’t enjoy a lusty make-out session with a sexy man.
But she was not aroused or interested in Certainly Jones. Because he was wrong. Tainted by devious demons.
“Someone has to keep a tight grasp on sanity around here.”
She checked the rearview mirror. The dark witch stood at the end of the alley, hands in his jeans pockets, looking her way. She couldn’t see the expression on his face. Was he waiting to see if she would back up? Or was he laughing that he’d sent her running with her tail between her legs?
Maybe it was the demons? Had it been a demon spouting crude comments about her breasts back there?
“He said he was fine in the light.” Most light, anyway. Prismatic light protected him best? “Interesting.”
Everything about the man tweaked at her curiosity. He was scruffy and pale, while she preferred her men neat and sun-kissed. When she looked in his eyes, she couldn’t see beyond the flat jade there. Most men’s eyes gleamed and gave away their thoughts before they had them. And his unabashed willingness to say what he thought offended her, but only because she was taking offense.
If she did not take offense, then he had no power over her.
Vika
Learning to Kill: Stories