MagicalMistakes

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

“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
into 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.