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  Magical Mistakes

  Victoria Davies

  Mikayla knows better than to wield magic when her emotions run hot—and they’re never hotter than when Ciar is firing her hormones and ignoring her advances. Determined to blast the chip off his shoulder once and for all, Mikayla casts a bit of ill-timed, if not well-deserved, magic. The results are as horrifying as they are hilarious. Fluffy and adorable as Ciar is, Mikayla never intended to reduce the sexy demon to a toy poodle. She can only pray she can reverse the spell—and that he doesn’t remember a thing.

  Ciar is not amused to find himself in Mikayla’s purse, though it’s difficult to hold a grudge against a woman so obviously guilt-ridden. It doesn’t take long to discover that every time they let the passion simmering between them boil over, Ciar returns to his natural form, albeit temporarily. Taking Mikayla to bed is his vengeance and his pleasure. Ciar’s denied himself, and her, too long. Yet the more time he spends exploring her body, controlling her pleasure, the easier it is to forget all the reasons he had for keeping her at a distance in the first place.

  A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Magical Mistakes

  Victoria Davies

  Chapter One

  “Don’t even think about it,” Tamsyn growled at her side.

  Mikayla glanced at her sister. These days the scowl on Tamsyn’s beautiful face seemed ever present. It seemed neither one of her sisters approved of Mikayla’s fascination and Tamsyn made no bones about her displeasure.

  “Not your call, Tam,” she said, taking a sip of the beer before her.

  A sigh sounded from her other side. “Like that’s going to work,” her second eldest sibling said. “You know how protective Tamsyn can be.”

  “I’m a big girl, Wyn. I can take care of myself.”

  “Against him?” she asked, jutting her thumb over her shoulder at the object of Mikayla’s scrutiny. “You know how demons are.”

  “Not exactly the cuddly types,” Tamsyn added.

  Mikayla lifted her drink to her lips, ignoring her elder sisters’ concern. Over the rim of her glass she gazed at the cause of their discontent.

  Ciar leaned against the bar, watching the crowd before him with dispassionate silver eyes. An untouched beer sat beside him. Mikayla had always wondered why he came here. He rarely spoke to anyone and though he ordered a pint every time, she’d never seen him take a single sip. Even in a venue that catered to the less than human, patrons were wary about approaching one of his kind. Not that they didn’t have good cause. The species had a habit of being unpredictable at the best of times.

  But the danger didn’t stop Ciar from being noticed, even if only from afar. Towering over Mikayla’s own six-foot frame, he presented an intimidating figure. Long black hair was pulled back and tied at his nape with a black ribbon so nothing softened the hard planes of his face. Clad in all black, Ciar obviously had a body made for war. Demons tended to be a violent race—he wouldn’t have survived if he wasn’t a strong warrior. Despite the bar being a conflict-free zone, Ciar did nothing to hide the dagger strapped to his hip. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to mess with him. After all, people who crossed demons ended up disappearing. For good.

  “Kay,” Tamsyn hissed. “We’re going to ban you from coming to the Black Cat if you don’t stop staring at him.”

  Sighing, Mikayla vowed to leave her sisters at home the next time she wanted a night out.

  Wyn tapped her fingers rhythmically on the countertop. “You two are totally harshing my buzz. It’s Halloween, ladies. As in drink until someone looks good and make some mistakes you’ll enjoy regretting in the morning. Tamsyn, stop mothering and have a shot. Mikayla, leave Ciar alone so we can dance the night away instead of picking up the pieces of your dismembered body.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come out tonight,” Tamsyn mused.

  “On Halloween?” Mikayla asked, her patience thinning. “Wyn’s right. What kind of witches would we be if we stayed in on a night like this?”

  Tamsyn arched a brow. “The kind who like to keep their baby sisters away from big bad demons who might eat them.”

  Mikayla growled in annoyance. “In the six months he’s been here have you ever seen Ciar hurt anyone?”

  “Just because we haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened,” Tamsyn pointed out.

  “Not to gang up on you, little sis, but you’ve flirted with the man for months with nothing to show for it. And you know what his people are like. They screw anything that moves,” Wyn added.

  Mikayla flinched at the reminder that she couldn’t even tempt a lustful demon. In truth, she didn’t know what Ciar’s problem was. While she might not be as curvy as Wyn or as petite and cute as Tamsyn, she wasn’t unattractive. Tall and slender, she didn’t match her sisters, but none of her other lovers had ever complained.

  Granted, her curly brown hair was a little plain, but she’d always thought her clear green eyes more than made up for it. There was no reason for Ciar to rebuff her every time they talked. It wasn’t like she was asking for forever. She’d settle for a single night with the magnetic man.

  She knew she should move on. After all, it wasn’t like he was the first man to turn her down. But despite her best efforts, there was no shaking him from her mind. It wasn’t like her to chase someone who didn’t want to be caught but every time she closed her eyes, she remembered the first time they’d met. There had been lust in his eyes then. Lust that had seared her with its heat. Never before had she felt as alive as she had when he’d looked at her with desire.

  And she wanted to feel that way again. Just once more.

  As she watched him, Ciar shifted and glanced her way. For a second, his gaze locked with hers. A tremor ran through her.

  Notice me, she willed. Want me.

  He inclined his head to her before turning his eyes back to the dancing revelers in the bar.

  Mikayla fought the urge to slump in defeat.

  When they’d first met months ago things had played out quite differently. It’d been here, in this very bar. Mikayla had come alone in an effort to relieve some stress and had been happy to dance the night away. Then she’d looked across the floor and seen Ciar for the first time.

  New to town, he’d looked like he was aching for a fight. There hadn’t been anything soft or inviting about the man, but in Mikayla’s mind that only added to his appeal.

  The demon had raked the dance floor with his shimmering gaze and the moment their eyes had met, her breath had frozen in her chest. Heat had flared in his gaze before he’d given her a thorough once-over. Oh yes, he had liked what he’d seen. Mikayla could still remember the desire flashing through her, the way the club around them seemed to disappear. He hadn’t found her lacking that night.

  But her cell had gone off and she’d headed outside in an effort to hear Tamsyn better. She’d taken the side exit, stepping into the dark alley. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been alone.

  A barfly too drunk to know better followed her, and a demon with lust in his eyes had followed him. Ciar had no doubt intended to play knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress.

  Too bad she’d never made a good damsel.

  The second the barfly had made a grab for her she’d snapped her fingers and pinned the bastard to the wall. Unaware of her audience, she’d slammed the hapless man with a sleep spell that would leave him with one hell of a hangover. Content with her defense, she’d been about to call her sister back when she’d spied Ciar watching everything.

  The lust in his eyes had turned hostile.

  “Looks like you can handle yourself, witch,” he’d said. The first words they’d ever shared. Before she could reply, he’d disappeared back in
to the bar.

  Honestly, how was she to know the man of her dreams had a thing against her kind?

  Unfortunately his rejection had the opposite effect than he’d no doubt hoped for. There was no forgetting the alluring man. Time and again she’d seen him over the months. She’d flirted, teased and, every now and then, seen that spark of warmth in his eyes. The sight was an addicting one. Mikayla never backed down from a challenge and she swore one day she’d crack him. He’d look at her and she’d see only the desire and none of the distrust. He had wanted her, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. The hot lust in his eyes still featured prominently in her dreams. She just had to get him to admit it.

  “Maybe we can set you up with someone in the bar,” Tamsyn said, oblivious to Mikayla’s mood. “I swear every magical being within the city limits is here tonight. A nice warlock is exactly what you need.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure.” Mikayla glanced behind her sisters and sighed. “I don’t mean to be alarmist, but there’s a werewolf stalking us.”

  “Henry,” Tamsyn piped up, excitement lighting her eyes as she spotted the large man moving through the crowd toward them. “You girls don’t mind if I disappear for a bit, do you?”

  “Don’t let the dog give you fleas,” Wyn replied.

  Sticking her tongue out at her sister, Tamsyn hopped down from the bar. A smile curved her lips as she strode forward to meet the wolf.

  Mikayla watched her go with a twinge of jealousy. Her sisters never had any trouble with their men. They would never pine over some unrequited lust. She tapped her fingers against the bar as she fought back the desire to give in to self-pity. It wasn’t like her. She fought for what she wanted. Even if that meant her pride took a beating or two in the process. Ciar, she had no doubt, would be worth the wait.

  “And then there were two,” Wyn said, drinking her beer.

  Mikayla glanced at Ciar again. Surely not even he was immune to the excitement and energy in the air tonight.

  “You know, Wyn,” she said, her eyes on Ciar, “maybe Tam has a point. There have to be some decent prospects here, what with the holiday and all. Why don’t you do a little reconnaissance? I promise to meet the warlock of your choosing.”

  Wyn lit up at her words. “Really?” she asked, eying the crowd. “You’ll be all right by yourself for a few minutes?”

  “Hey, I’ll have both your beers to finish. Don’t worry about me.”

  “All right, sis. I’m sure I can round up something to take your mind off Ciar.” She winked. “For a night, at least.”

  Mikayla grinned as she watched Wyn disappear into the crowd. Free at last.

  She took a bracing gulp of beer before slipping off the barstool. Her heart thundered in her chest as she pushed through the dancing crowd. Halloween always ensured everyone went home blind drunk and, by the looks of things, the night was well under way.

  Butterflies filled her stomach as she moved close to her quarry. She tried to conjure up her usual confident self and not the tongue-tied teenager she invariably morphed into whenever she got within ten feet of Ciar. This was Halloween. Tonight was her night. There was no time for nerves.

  Brushing off a random reveler trying to gain her attention, Mikayla slid up next to Ciar.

  “Happy Halloween,” she said.

  The demon glanced down at her. “And to you,” he replied in his velvety voice.

  Mikayla waited for Ciar to say something else but he turned his gaze back to the crowd.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  His eyes flickered back to her. “Of course. It’s the one bar in the city where I don’t have to pretend to be human.”

  “Right,” Mikayla muttered. Mentally she cringed. Why, oh why, couldn’t she be as effortlessly charming as Tamsyn or as flirtatious as Wyn?

  “I came with my sisters tonight,” she said, reaching for something to fill the uncomfortable silence. “You know us witches. We like to roll together.”

  His eyes darkened with an unnamed emotion before he dropped his gaze. “How nice.”

  Smooth, she mocked herself. Remind him of the main reason he doesn’t want you. Of course, a far more insidious voice within her whispered, there might be other reasons he didn’t want her. Ones that had nothing to do with her species.

  “Are you here alone?” she asked, shaking off the nagging doubts.

  “Always.”

  “You could come have a drink with us.”

  He glanced behind her toward where she’d been sitting before shaking his head. “Bad idea. Your sisters aren’t comfortable around me.”

  “I am.”

  Interest leapt to his eyes before the heartening emotion was banished and his cool mask put firmly back in place. “But then again, you don’t know me.”

  “I’ve known you for months.”

  “And learned nothing. Not if you are here once more.”

  She flinched but lifted her chin another notch. Fine. She might not know him well but Ciar was the most secretive man she’d ever met. If he trusted her just a little bit she’d treasure every revelation.

  “I could know you,” she offered. “It’s Halloween. What do you have to lose?”

  He watched her in silence. His face betrayed no hint of emotion.

  “It’s not a matter of loss but gain.” His gaze swept over her, moving slowly down her body before returning to her face. “And I have nothing to gain.”

  She stiffened. Did he find her that lacking? The urge to mutter an excuse and retreat was strong. But tonight was her best chance of getting through to him. She wouldn’t run.

  “Then you’re not looking hard enough,” she said, putting a hand on her hip.

  He sighed before twisting to push her back up against the bar. Mikayla caught her breath as she stared up at him.

  “What do you want from me, little witch?”

  “I…” She stopped, not knowing what to say. What would he do if she whispered how she wanted him to show up at her door, how she’d delight if he pinned her to the kitchen table and slid the thin straps of her tank down her arms? How she’d crave the touch of his naked skin pressed against hers or revel in the sensation of him sinking into her?

  Ciar arched an elegant eyebrow in question.

  Mikayla straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Demons valued strength. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her. “I want you to give me a chance. I’m worth it.” She met his gaze and refused to look away. Time to play all her cards. This was a night of revels and she wanted hers to be with him.

  For a moment he didn’t move, merely watched her with his unreadable eyes. Finally, he leaned closer until his mouth was a breath away from hers.

  Mikayla tilted her head up to him, parting her lips in anticipation of his kiss. After all this time, he was responding to her the way he had the first night.

  But his lips never touched hers.

  “Trust me,” he murmured against her mouth. “That’s the last thing you should want.” He pushed away from her before she could protest. “Leave me alone, witch,” he told her. “I’ll never be interested.”

  Ciar strode away without a backward glance.

  Mikayla stood stunned and alone. Within seconds her shock gave way to crushing humiliation. Was she that unattractive? That clumsy and unsophisticated that she couldn’t even talk a demon into a one-night stand? Pain tore through her. He couldn’t have picked his words better to shred her pride. Had she misread the lust she’d seen in his eyes when they’d first met? Had he been laughing at her all this time as she’d tried to gain his interest? Mikayla, the foolish witch who couldn’t even figure out when all a man wanted from her was an escape route. She gripped the bar, gauging little crescents into the polished wood with her nails. He had been deliberately cruel. More than was necessary. She’d always heard demons were vicious but she’d never expected him to treat her with such cold disregard.

  Anger came to her rescue, banishing the painful hurt. How dare he? He had no idea who he was mess
ing with. Did he think she was some weak-willed human to roll over and accept contempt she’d done nothing to deserve? Not a chance. With single-minded determination she stepped away from the bar and followed Ciar. He owed her an apology.

  She tracked him through the crowd and watched as he slipped out the side door. Hurrying to the exit, she pushed the door open a crack and saw Ciar striding down the dark alley.

  Mikayla watched him walk away without a care in the world while she was battered and bruised. Her hands curled to fists at her side. Red flashed across her vision as fury surged within her. She’d spent months being nothing but kind to him and what was her reward? Mockery and contempt. Well, no longer. She was done chasing after him in hopes of any scrap of affection. It was time to show him exactly what kind of woman she was. Ciar had hurt her and the bastard would pay. Without any thought, she opened her mouth and called up her magic.

  “Show him the meaning of love’s full range, cause his low view of me to change,” she said. All the hairs on her arms stood on end as magic rushed across her skin to coil in her hand. Heat expanded down her fingers, making her palms itch. Calling her magic was like trying to hold on to something that didn’t want to be held. She gritted her teeth and battled the desire to release the spell. The longer she could contain the magic, the stronger it would be. Focusing on Ciar, she poured more energy into her hand. The magic twisted against her fingers almost like a physical presence.

  Satisfied with the strength of her spell, she cast out her hand and watched the flash of her power as it snaked toward the retreating demon. The attack hit him square in the back.

  A triumphant smile twisted her lips. Let’s see how he likes me now. Would he race back to her, begging to be hers? A cold smile curved her lips. She rather liked the idea of turning the tables and crushing him instead.

  For a moment everything froze. Nothing moved in the still night. The rush of the traffic faded away to silence as she waited for her spell to take effect. Mikayla hardly dared to breathe. Pins and needles pricked at her palm in the aftermath of the magic gathered there but she gave the sensation no notice. All she saw was Ciar.