MagicalMistakes (3 page)

Mikayla switched off the light before heading for the bed.
As she snuggled under the covers, the dog made his way to her side.

“Goodnight, Ciar,” she whispered, scratching his ears. “I
swear I’ll fix you. You have my word.”

Here’s hoping I’ll be able to keep it.

“Is he…is he sparkling?”

Wyn looked down at the whining dog on the table. “I believe
the question should be, is he pink?” she replied.

“What the hell did you two do to Ciar?” Mikayla demanded.

In the middle of their table stood a bright-pink toy poodle
with tiny sparkles stuck to his fur. Even for a dog, he looked decidedly
annoyed.

“Man, I know we can’t let him remember anything, but come
on, we could blackmail him for centuries with this.” Wyn chortled.

The dog growled at the grinning witch.

“Hush, pup,” Wyn told him. “Or no more people food for you.”

“Tamsyn?” Mikayla asked, exasperated.

With a wave of her hand the spell reversed, changing Ciar’s
fur back to its natural white.

“Right, well, as fun as that was, we’re hitting nothing but
roadblocks here, ladies,” Wyn said, moving back to the stove to the potion she
was brewing.

Tamsyn nodded. “We’ve pretty much exhausted all the magical
texts we have.”

“We can’t give up,” Mikayla protested.

“No,” Tamsyn agreed. “But, honey, maybe we have to wait for
the spell to run its course. Obviously you were working some heavy magic last
night to craft an enchantment this strong. There must have been a reason.”

Mikayla sighed, dropping into a chair. The dog struggled to
find his balance perched on her knees. “I just need to remember the damn
incantation.”

“In the meantime,” Wyn said, spooning her blue potion into
three glass vials, “I’ve got something for each of us.”

She handed out the vials.

“What is it?” Mikayla asked, tilting the blue vial up to the
light.

“A forgetting potion,” she replied. “On the off chance that
we actually manage to reverse the spell and get Ciar back to his natural form,
I figured we’d better have some on hand. There’s no telling what he’ll
remember. It could be nothing, but it could also be an insatiable lust for
puppy chow. Better safe than sorry.”

“How do we use it?” Tamsyn asked.

“Simple, throw the potion on him the second he changes back.
It should knock out his memory for the last few days.” She glanced at the dog.
“It’s pretty strong, so I don’t advise using it on him in this form. I doubt
poodles and memory potions mix well.”

Mikayla eyed the potion. “I wish we didn’t have to use it,”
she said. “I’ve already hurt him enough.”

Wyn reached out to touch her shoulder. “You know demons,
sis. He won’t forgive you for this.”

Mikayla lifted Ciar up and rested her brow against his
little head. “I know,” she whispered as the dog licked her nose. “Look, guys,
we’ve been working all day. I need a break.”

“Sure,” Tamsyn agreed. “Leave Ciar here and we’ll keep
working on him.”

The dog whined.

“Nuh-uh,” Mikayla said. “I’m not leaving him unsupervised
with you two again. Who knows what you’ll turn him into this time. Come on,
Ciar.” She set him on the ground before rising to her feet. The dog trailed
after her as she left the room.

Mikayla headed back to her bedroom. She set the small vial
of blue potion on her nightstand before collapsing onto the wide bed. Ciar
leapt onto the comforter beside her.

“What could I have cursed you with?” she asked him, twisting
her head. “I shouldn’t have been able to perform a spell this powerful.”

The dog crept closer, crawling on his belly to her side.

Mikayla reached out to run a hand over his soft fur. “What a
mess this is and I know it’s my fault but you’re not exactly blameless, buddy.
I don’t know what you found so defective about me, but you know what? It’s your
damage. As soon as we reverse this I’m not wasting any more time on you.” She
rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. “I really need to find a lover.”

The quiet growl from the dog at her side startled her.
Mikayla sat up, watching as the poodle bared his teeth and growled louder.

“Ciar?” she asked, reaching out a hand to him.

Before her fingers could touch his fur, black smoke twisted
from the bedspread and surrounded him.

Mikayla watched in horror as the smoke grew in size. She was
about to run for the door when a solid figure burst through the blackness.

Ciar sat before her looking as shocked as she felt. He
looked exactly as he had at the bar, dressed all in black and wickedly
handsome. Slowly, he lifted a hand to his face, running his fingers over his
furless skin.

“I’m back,” he whispered.

Mikayla swore. Throwing herself away from the transformed
demon, she clawed at the nightstand for the forgetting potion.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ciar snarled, grabbing her arms and
pinning them above her head with one strong hand. “You are not taking my
memories, witch.”

Mikayla froze beneath his hard body, staring up at him in
horror. “Memories? How do you know what the potion does?”

Ciar narrowed his eyes. “Woof, woof.”

He knew, she realized. He’d been conscious the whole time.
He knew she’d cast a spell on him and he knew he’d been held here by her
sisters. It wasn’t just her he’d exact his vengeance on. They were all in
danger.

“Let me go!” she cried, fighting in earnest to free herself.

Ciar growled, throwing a leg over her flailing limbs to stop
her writhing. As hard as Mikayla struggled, she was no match for his strength.
A fact that couldn’t have pissed her off more. But what she lacked in physical
strength she made up for in magic.

“Free of thee I wish to be,” she snapped, weaving a spell to
win her freedom. “By the time I count to thr—”

Ciar’s lips silenced her, cutting off the magic she had
summoned. Mikayla lay frozen beneath him as his mouth claimed hers. All the
times she’d spent fantasizing kissing him paled in comparison to reality. He
kissed her like he wanted to dominate her, possess her. Mikayla knew she could
fight him off but her body refused to do anything but writhe under his. How
long had she dreamed of him touching her just like this? She had no intention
of stopping now. Instead she parted her lips under his, tasting him for the
first time.

He held her firmly in place as he drew his lips over hers.
Mikayla wanted to touch him but she couldn’t break free from the hand that
trapped her wrists. Instead she arched under him, pressing their bodies
together. Ciar hissed at the contact but didn’t pull away. He kissed her
harder, sliding a knee between her legs.

Mikayla knew how foolish she was acting. Any demon who’d
been treated the way he had would want revenge. She should be preparing for
battle, not enjoying her enemy. But even if he’d released her, she wouldn’t
have been able to pull herself away from his arms. She’d always known it would
feel like this. With him.

His free hand slid up her body to cup her breast. She gasped
against his lips at the forbidden pleasure. All she wanted was to forget the
world around them and enjoy his touch while she had the chance.

Why was he doing this now? He’d never wanted her before.

As soon as the thought entered her mind, she froze. He
didn’t want her. But he had been a dog long enough to learn just how much she
wanted him.

She tore her mouth from his with a cry of pain. This was his
vengeance. He was using her emotions against her as a weapon. Anger curled
through her. She was due, she knew, but it didn’t make his revenge any easier
to take.

“Don’t touch me,” she commanded, turning her face away from
his.

Ciar stilled, looking down at her. “You weren’t complaining
a second ago.”

Humiliation flooded her. How easy she’d been to fool. The
desperate little witch, wanting the one man she could never have.

“This is cruel,” she said, forcing her voice to stay strong.
“Even for you.”

The smile slipped from Ciar’s face. Catching her chin with
his fingers he forced her face back to him. “Cruel?” he asked. “This from a
woman who cursed me?”

Mikayla didn’t flinch from the accusation in his gaze. “It
was a mistake.”

“And the plot to take my memories? What was that, then?”

She understood his rage. If their positions were reversed
she’d have done everything she could to remove his head from his shoulders.
What could she possibly say in her defense?

“I’m sorry.” The words escaped her before she could call
back the flimsy sentiment. Her apologies wouldn’t matter to him in the least.

His fingers tightened on her chin. “Not good enough,” he
told her. “Not nearly.”

Mikayla looked up at his determined face and saw no mercy in
his eyes. She knew how demons dealt with their enemies. She’d heard stories of
their legendary viciousness, everyone had. But would Ciar truly turn the
cruelty in his nature against her?

“It’s my fault,” she told him. “Don’t you dare harm my
sisters.”

A nameless emotion flickered in his cold silver eyes. His
fingers brushed over her skin as he leaned closer to her. “What do you expect
me to do?”

She said nothing.

“Come, Mikayla. What do you think I’m capable of?”

“Anything,” she answered, refusing to cower before him.

He tilted his head to the side, studying her wide eyes.
“Even hurting you?”

The urge to drop her gaze and hide was nearly overwhelming.
But if there was ever a time to be strong it was now. “I bespelled you.”

“I remember.”

“And I’ve heard stories of your kind…”

He narrowed his eyes. “I told you before, you know nothing
of me,” he said. “This is further proof.”

Ciar rolled off her before she could reply. He leapt from
the bed before pacing to the window.

For a moment Mikayla froze, uncertain whether to go to him
or call up her magic. His back was to her, as if he didn’t consider her a
threat despite all the evidence to the contrary. She could take his memories so
easily. Instead she slipped from the bed and padded over to him on quiet feet.

“Witches,” he murmured when she drew near. “Such trouble.”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You use your magic as
a weapon.”

“Not always,” she said. “I’m not that kind of witch.”

“Could have fooled me.”

The barb struck home and Mikayla flinched. “What I did…” She
paused, unsure of her words.

Ciar waited, saying nothing to absolve her guilt.

“What I did to you doesn’t get forgiven,” she said, staring
at his back. “Do you think I don’t understand that? I never use my magic to
hurt. And then I went and did this. To you of all people.” Hot shame spiraled
through her. “I have no excuse. Tell me how I can ever make amends and I will
do it gladly.”

She expected more bitter words. Part of her wanted him to
yell and rail at her the way she deserved. Instead a feather-light touch
trailed down her cheek. She wanted to look away but the gentle pressure of his
fingers left her no choice but to look up at him.

She met his unreadable gaze. Guilt ate at her. She could
handle his anger easier than his pity.

“Amends,” he murmured. “Perhaps you are not the only one
with recompense to make.”

It would be so easy to accept his absolution but Mikayla
knew it was wrong. This was her fault. She’d cast the spell. “You didn’t do
anything wrong,” she whispered. “You just told me the truth. I should have left
you alone. I shouldn’t have forced my company on you.”

A small smile twisted his lips. “Such a torture, your
company.”

She flinched.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Always misunderstanding me.”

“Then make your meanings clear.”

He stepped closer and lowered his head until his mouth was a
breath from hers. “Understand now?”

“Getting there.” She tilted her head up to brush her lips
over his.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entrance.
Mikayla opened her mouth eagerly. An arm wrapped around her waist as Ciar
hauled her up against his chest. He swept his tongue into her mouth, teasing
her with his expert touch. Mikayla clung to his shoulders as she fought the
overwhelming desire. Nothing existed except the feel of his body against hers.
He invaded all her senses.

Her back hit the wall as he crowded her back. Ciar pressed a
leg between hers, rubbing against her sensitive flesh. She felt his hard cock
straining to be free and smiled against his mouth. It hadn’t been in her head.
He did want her, at least her body.

She wasn’t a woman to pine for more than she could have. At least
not much. If this was all he could give her, she’d enjoy it and smile at the
memories long after he’d left her.

Impatient hands tugged at her shirt. Mikayla hissed a sharp
breath when his palms pressed against the naked skin of her abdomen. Skin to skin.
Finally. Her fingers curled in the material of his t-shirt, she wished she
could touch him as he touched her.

A lone fingertip teased along the edge of her jeans. She
shivered at the touch.
Yes
, she wanted to plead.
More.

Ciar ran his hot mouth down her throat and she threw back
her head to give him better access. Her body vibrated with need. Never had she
experienced such desperation. She wanted this man. Now.

She’d always known it would be this way. If only he’d
believed her sooner. Damn demon. Far too stubborn for his own good.

“Mikayla,” he breathed, his voice rough. “I need you.”

Sweeter words had never been spoken.

She grinned, about to reply, when the door burst open.
Mikayla whipped around, pushing past Ciar even as her body protested the interrupted
embrace.

“Mikayla, Tamsyn found another spell she wants to try,” Wyn
called, striding into the room.

Mikayla opened her mouth to reply when she heard a small
“poof” behind her.

“What are you doing?” Wyn asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Wyn, look. Ciar is—” The words died on her tongue when
Mikayla glanced behind her.

A small, enraged puff ball sat at her feet. The poodle was
back.