3 Reasons To Not Kiss A Warlock: Beware, Bewitched, Bewarlocked (Mystic Keep Universe Book 2) Read online

  I slammed the van door because I knew Plums had no intention of sleeping on the cold floor. He would sneak into my bed as he always did. Plums snickered and stretched out on the dashboard, settling in for a midnight snooze. Sometimes I envied his life.

  A cold, October breeze blew in from the Pacific, chilling me to the bone. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and cursed my luck for bringing me to this warlock-ridden place. My breath misted in the autumn air. The sound of waves crashing on the rocky cliff meters away reminded me of nature's raw power and my mortality. The moon looked like a silver coin hanging in a lonely sky. In the distance, an owl called someone's name, and a shiver stole up my spine.

  Creepy, just plain creepy, I thought. If I stay here much longer, moss, which grows on everything in this Goddess-forsaken land, will infect my brain. How could Cassie call this place home?

  Plums, always privy to my thoughts, laughed and spoke in my head, “If you stay here much longer, you won’t have any brains left. Get on with it.”

  I strode towards the entrance of the Keep. The scent of old magic lingered all around it. To the uninitiated, the building felt forbidding, but I sensed its power.

  Three bats circled around its top, looking like Halloween cut-outs against the midnight-blue sky. I knew from my last visit that Donovan O'Reilly and his posse kept layers of protective wards around their headquarters, but they didn't stir upon my approach. As nothing prevented me from entering, I squeezed my charm bag tight and walked through the arc-shaped, stone entrance.

  Donovan beckoned me with his voice, “Come, Merlina. Come to me.”

  In your dreams, I thought.

  “I’m on top of the Keep.”

  With the bats. Of course. I spoke a spell and appeared beside him, concentrating on his eyes, because I hate heights. I really, really hate heights. The moonlight accentuated the sharply carved planes and hollows of his handsome face.

  “You called,” I said.

  Without looking at me, he spoke, “It’s a beautiful night.”

  “Which I could have enjoyed from the comforts of Cassie’s apartment.”

  As he turned towards me, his jaw firmed. "Are you always so cranky, or do I bring out the worst in you?"

  "The worst? Trust me, you haven't seen the worst," I grumbled. "You mocked my vision. Why did you summon me?"

  He looked at the sky. “The moon is most magnificent tonight.”

  "Did you find anything?" I asked. I tried not to follow his gaze because I might …. Damn, I did. I looked down. We must have been a hundred feet up. My stomach clenched.

  “I’m not sure,” he said.

  I studied his body. How could I help myself when he stood so close, and the alternative made me nauseous? His hood fell back, enabling me to see his profile. Waves of thick black hair fell over his shoulders, and a dragon tattoo snaked up his neck. A dark shadow of whiskers covered his square jaw. Tall, delicious, and sexy-beyond-words. I stifled a groan and collected my thoughts.

  “You’re not used to being unsure,” I said.

  He nodded. “You’re damn right. I like to know what’s going on in my town. It’s the consensus of my posse that danger is nearing.”

  “Nearing?”

  He nodded. "More than one seer senses a powerful change approaching. They don't know its source, but they agree that it will affect our whole community."

  “Do they know anything more?”

  "Not yet. But I have our best people scrying as we speak."

  "As we speak? You sound like a politician," I said, wiggling my nose.

  His impossibly-blue eyes swept back to me. "Having to communicate with people comes with the job. I'm sorry if my manner of speaking bothers you." He brushed a lock of my hair away from my face and tucked it gently behind my ear, and with his touch, a jolt of energy passed between us. "I would prefer we get along," he said.

  Get along? He stood no more than a foot from me. His intoxicating warlock scent dominated the air no matter how much I wiggled my nose. Moonlight flowed over us like a damn waterfall. My pulse would not slow down, and the worst of it was I knew he could sense my response to him. I wanted to kiss him, more than I wanted my next breath. I hoped he didn’t sense that as well. I took a step back and looked at the moon. “It’s cold out here,” I said.

  He made a guttural sound. “My posse and I will keep looking for the disturbance you warned us about. I just wish …”

  “What?”

  "That we could be friends. I apologize for my cavalier attitude yesterday. Although it's not an excuse, the wizard fights in town take way too much of my time. I should have told you that I appreciated your help, and that I am honored to be backed-up by such a gifted witch. I should have welcomed you back to our town."

  “Apology accepted, I said. “I better get back to Cassie.”

  He took me gently by the shoulders and pulled me closer to him. To keep myself from doing something really stupid, I fisted my hands, cutting my long nails into my flesh.

  “You are the most beautiful and talented witch I’ve ever met,” he said.

  “I think you’ve been working too hard,” I said, stepping back and breaking our contact.

  “Wait. You haven’t told me about your vision.”

  I vanished.

  Nine

  “The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.” —Tahereh Mafi

  When I got back to the apartment, I found a note from Cassie. Once again, she had been whisked away to the country estate she shared with Sanjay. She told me to make myself at home.

  To get Donovan O’Reilly out of my mind, I took a bath in the deep soaker-tub in the guest room with every relaxing herb I could think of, did an evening yoga routine, and chanted for ten minutes. I felt more centered, but I couldn't say I felt free of the warlock, or my worries about the moon.

  Plums, lying in the middle of my bed, lifted an eyelid and chuckled. "Good luck with that."

  I sent a text to Cassie: “Home safe. See you tomorrow. Heart emoji. Heart emoji.”

  “Did you kiss him?” she replied.

  "Good night," I typed.

  So much for my first reason to not kiss the warlock with the deadly blue eyes—or at least deadly for me. Damn his good looks. Damn his charm. Damn his—his everything. I couldn't seem to resist thinking about him. He was like a bowl of Sugar Frosted Flakes when I was three.

  Hex that! I'm an independent woman, I told myself. I don't need a man, and I certainly don't need a warlock who grunts.

  Plum’s yellow eyes glowed at me in the dark. “Sometimes,” he said, “We want what is not good for us.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I said.

  He flicked his tail.

  I climbed into the bed, and Plums cuddled into my side, sharing his body warmth, but it wasn't the kind of heat I had on my mind. I pushed him away and reminded myself to be thankful for all I had at the moment: soft flannel sheets, a cozy comforter, and the familiar smell of family. As the clock in the coffee house below bellowed once, my eyes closed.

  Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't fall into a deep sleep. I tossed and turned and turned some more until my bedsheets wound all around my limbs, and I could barely move. Meanwhile, Plums napped soundly in a chair. My panties rode up my legs and cut off my circulation. I took off my nightgown, and my twisted panties, remade the bed and tried to sleep a second time.

  As my consciousness finally melted away, the recurring dream of my one-night stand in Venice reappeared. I found myself at the masquerade party, in a sinking, pink palace on the Grand Canal, where witches, warlocks, and wizards gathered to party. Muggles mingled in the crowd as well, as demons watched.

  I wore a simple black mask that only revealed my eyes
and a Marie Antoinette gown made of fine green silk and lace. Everyone started the evening in costume, but I knew things would change as the night progressed.

  It wasn't my first orgy, but it definitely was my most memorable. At such events, people tend to choose many partners, sometimes all at once. Having just broken off with my partner of six years, I came hungry for good sex with no strings attached. I wanted to shed all my inhibitions and feel alive.

  As it turned out, I only had one man that night.

  The image of us together burned into my memory, and I had dreamed of him almost every night since. No lover could replace his touch. Ever.

  As I drifted into the dream, I felt his hands grab me from behind and pull me against his rock-hard body. My heart stuttered at the suddenness of his touch. He smelled of sandalwood, ocean waves, and manliness, but my witch senses knew his scent to be a charm. Beneath it lay the distinct smell of a dangerous sorcerer.

  His breath tickled my neck as he whispered in my ear, "Ce soir c'est seulement pour toi.” Tonight is for you, only for you. My senses went into overdrive as his large calloused hands massaged my breasts. My breath caught. My nipples hardened.

  “Ma belle petite chouette,” he whispered. My little dove. I tried to turn and look at him, but he pushed my face away. “Non,” he said. “Pas encore.” No, not yet. His sensual voice raked my senses.

  In front of me, a woman sat naked on a man, undulating in a slow, steady rhythm. Sweat trickled down my brow. Next to them five bodies entwined as if they were one, on a cushioned platform. In a distant corner, a couple swayed on a leather swing. The musky smell of sex and unbridled passion filled the air.

  A string quartet played in one corner of the room. Moans, grunts, and sighs mingled with demands. "More. More. More." The crowd seemed insatiable, while a collage of special effects magically enhanced their erotic pleasure: falling stars, a kaleidoscope of lights, erotic scents that acted as aphrodisiacs, and the steady sound of heartbeats.

  I knew by his touch that this orgy, would be different.

  His hand slid slowly down my torso. With the adeptness of a skilled lover, his fingers stroked my most sensitive center.

  "I'm ready," I said. Hex, I was more than ready. I wanted to go at it. Again, and again, until I could think no more, feel no more—remember, no more.

  “Pas encore ma vilaine sorcière." Not yet, my naughty witch. He knew I was a witch! Thoughts flashed through my mind, but didn’t stick as my body responded to his touch.

  His fingers played me like a musical instrument. A moan slipped out of my mouth. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Ce soir je suis votre amant et je vous satisferai de toutes les manières possibles.” Tonight, I am your lover and I will satisfy you in every possible way. His sexy voice stirred me almost as much as his touch.

  He bit my ear lobe. “D’une manière que vous ne savez même pas que vous voulez. Faites-moi confiance.” In ways you don’t even know you want. Just trust me.

  “Please.” I panted. “Let me see who you are.”

  “Pas avant que tu me fasses confiance.” Not until you trust me.

  “Just show me your face just for a moment.” I would use my witch senses to fix him in time, to learn more about him.

  “Non, Sorcière, il y a des choses que je vais vous apprendre que vous ne pourriez apprendre de personne d’autre.” Sorceress, there are things I’m going to teach you that you could learn from no one else. Fluid ran down my thighs.

  "I like control.” I panted. “I have to have control. Let me see you." My body rose nearing a climax.

  He licked my neck as he pinched my nipple, and I gasped. Swirling me around with his magic, he pushed me against a wall that suddenly appeared.

  I caught a quick glimpse of him. A tall man, built like a warrior, with muscles in all the right places. Dark wavy hair rolled over his shoulders. He wore nothing but a black silk mask. Metallic, otherworldly eyes looked out at me. Below his disguise, his smile promised something dark. Something forbidden. Something he knew I wanted.

  He lowered himself to his knees and licked my core.

  Time elapsed the way it does in dreams and I felt him deep inside me, plunging hard and fast. My world exploded, shattering into a million pieces. I cried out in ecstasy, total and complete bliss, as I woke up.

  Plums' yellow eyes locked on mine. His whiskers rippled. "Again?"

  “Oh, shut up,” I said.

  “The same old fantasy?” he said.

  “I don’t know why I keep going back to the party in Venice. It doesn’t help me.”

  He snickered. “Are you sure about that?”

  “It’s not what I need right now.”

  “Uh-huh. If you say so.” His whiskers twitched.

  My first reason to not kiss Donovan O'Reilly didn't work. So, what. I was attracted to him, and there was no point in denying that. That explained my erotic dream. Donovan unleashed a frustrated passion within me that needed an outlet. I had to find a way to handle the warlock with the devastatingly blue eyes.

  “You know I hear your thoughts,” said Plums as he rested his head on my lap. You cannot hide from me. Isn’t it time we talked about him? Or about that night in Venice and how it changed you.”

  I rolled out of bed and paced the floor. “All I know is that I must find a second reason not to kill—I mean kiss—Donovan O’Reilly.

  Ten

  “The moon cannot be ignored.” Donovan O’Reilly

  Cassie appeared with steaming mugs of brew in the morning. Fresh out of the shower, I joined her in the living room, in a thick robe. I always loved that room in the apartment. It had a classy but comfortable sofa and two easy chairs. Between them sat an antique maple table, and at one end of the room, a wood fire roared. The smell of the magically enhanced drinks called me.

  I tucked my legs under me as I took a seat beside Cassie on the sofa. Everything about her radiated happiness, rosy cheeks, shiny eyes, and a mane of lustrous hair. Never had I seen her more happy. Her baby bump undulated as I looked at it. Clearly, my niece was happy too.

  I took a sip of the finely brewed coffee and let it linger on my palette. After a few more sips, I felt ready to talk. "You wear pregnancy well," I said.

  “You look like hell,” she said.

  “Not my fault.” I licked my lips. “I met with Donovan last night.”

  “Oh,” she said, and her brows rose. “And?”

  “Let’s just say the first reason to not kiss him isn’t working out so well.”

  She laughed and wisely didn't say anything.

  “You gotta help me find a second reason,” I said.

  "Wait. I thought you were worried about the Blood Moon, the impending danger, the safety of the town … You know, rescuing humanity and all that." She smirked.

  “Of course, I am. I’m just …”

  "Letting the big, bad warlock take care of things." Cassie's eyes, the color of sage, lit up with mirth. "He has the shoulders for it."

  Shoulders. Did she have to mention his shoulders? My body hadn't cooled down since my dream, and the last thing I needed was to be thinking of Donovan O'Reilly's finer parts. I swallowed. Not that he had any less-than finer parts. "Help a sister out here," I said.

  “Kiss him,” she said. “Just kiss him. Either you’ll like it or you won’t. I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just a kiss.”

  “I don’t want to kiss him.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  "Well, okay, I do want to kiss him, but I don't. Come on, tell me another reason I should kiss Donovan, so I can figure out a reason not to."

  She laughed. “Okay. You’re crazy, but I’ll help you because I’m your sister.” Cassie crossed her legs, and closed her eyes for a moment. “You should kiss him because he’s a good man.”

  "Hmm.” I thought about that for a bit. “I got it. My second reason to not kiss Donovan O'Reilly is that he's not a good man."

  I wiggled my toes. “He’s arrogant, chauvi
nistic in a warlock way, and he drives me crazy with his obsession about protecting the realm,” I said. “On the other hand, he does appear to have the heart of a good man. Every witch sense I possess tells me that Donovan isn’t all bad.”

  "Excellent. Then your second reason to not kiss the warlock has also been proven wrong. Two down, one to go."

  “But …”

  Before I could say another word, she vanished. Sisters! She had tricked me into stating a second reason, knowing it would prove false. Hmm. Had she also figured out the first one would fail?

  Maybe, just maybe, Donovan used his magic to appear suitable, when actually he was rotten in his core. I would learn more about this man. There was still a possibility he couldn’t pass the second test.

  “And the Blood Moon?” Plums nuzzled into my side.

  Oh, right. “We’ll have another look around town today and see what we can find.”

  Later that day, as I wandered around the streets trying to remain focused on the moon, Donovan's text message reached me. "Tonight, you, me, and the moon."

  Eleven

  “And the moon said to me, ‘My darling you do not have to be whole in order to shine.’” ~ Facebook Meme, Coffee Soul, and Wine

  Strong gusts of wind chased flat, dark clouds across the horizon. Large raindrops bounced off my windshield and slid in rivers down to the hood of the van. I wondered, not for the first time, how anyone could live in such a soggy landscape.

  “Sexy mages live here,” said Plums.

  I gave him the evil eye and concentrated on my driving.

  When I got to the top of the cliff, the Keep cast a dark, foreboding shadow against the night sky. A lone wolf howled in the distance, and I wondered if he sensed what was coming?

  The visceral pull of the Blood Moon, now only twenty-four hours away, tingled up and down my spine like a drunk and persistent spider. I had never liked spiders. Something monumental would happen soon, and it would affect us all.