Magical Mistakes(11)

Wyn nodded. “Makes sense.” She glanced back at Tamsyn. “Are you thinking what I am?”

Tamsyn inclined her head, looking none too happy.

“Hell,” Wyn sighed, leaning back in her chair. “She cast a Beauty-and-the-Beast spell.”

“I couldn’t have,” Mikayla argued. “They require time and training. Not a two-sentence spell mumbled in the spur of the moment.”

“Be that as it may, you did cast the spell on Halloween,” Tamsyn said, her voice gentling. “It changes all the rules. You changed his appearance into an unnatural form and made the condition of his release…”

“No,” Mikayla whispered.

Wyn placed a hand on her shoulder, finishing Tamsyn’s explanation. “Love. He has to fall for someone before he can regain his true form.”

“It would explain why none of our reversal spells have worked,” Tamsyn added. “Nothing can break a Beauty-and-the-Beast spell.”

“Nothing except Ciar falling in love. And he’s made it very clear that I am not a suitable contestant for that game,” Mikayla said.

Tamsyn and Wyn glanced at each other. Neither sister had any words of comfort to offer.

Mikayla closed her eyes. As much as she wished this could all be resolved with a happy ending, she knew the truth. Ciar hadn’t wanted her before. Even if he was starting to see her appeal, even if it led to fantastic sex, it wouldn’t be enough to break the spell. If this was a Beauty-and-the-Beast spell it meant he had to fall completely and utterly in love with someone. And it wouldn’t be the witch who had trapped him in such an unforgivable way.

“We have to find a woman he can love,” she said.

“Mikayla,” Tamsyn breathed.

Mikayla looked at her sister, forcing a smile to her lips. “Will you and Wyn go to the Black Cat tonight? See if you can find any info on Ciar’s previous relationships. Maybe there’s a woman in his past we can use.”

Wyn tapped her fingers on the table. “I’m all for getting this man out of your life, don’t get me wrong, but are you sure you want to do this?”

“This has nothing to do with me.” Mikayla gritted her teeth and forced the words out. “This is about righting an unforgivable wrong.”

“Maybe he could love you,” Tamsyn offered, ignoring Wyn’s derisive snort. Mikayla shook her head even as her heart leapt at the thought. “He already has a hang-up about witches and now I’ve gone and done this to him. Demons don’t forgive. You know that.”

Without another word she left the room.

* * * * *

It had been hours since the sisters had left and he was still a damn dog. Mikayla sat close by, crossed-legged on the bedspread. She appeared to be attempting to have a staring contest with him. His tail wagged in annoyance, the movement still startling. He might have lived centuries but having a tail was new even for him.

“No one else is around,” Mikayla said, interrupting his thoughts. “You can change back now.”

He growled. If he could change back, didn’t the maddening witch think he would have? After all, he was more than willing to pick up where they’d left off. He wanted to find out if her naked body looked as good as it felt.

A tremor ran through him, like he’d touched a live wire. If he’d been in his natural form he would have frowned. What the hell was that?

Mikayla was oblivious to whatever strange powers were at work. She chewed on her lower lip and his gaze followed the movement. How he’d like to use his tongue to ease the abused flesh. Another tremor hit him.

Mikayla plucked at her t-shirt as if she was nervous about something. He cocked his head to the side. What was the witch up to?

“Ciar?” she asked, reaching out to stroke his fur.

He closed his eyes at the contact. It was becoming a habit for her, one he had no wish to break.

“I have something I want to try.”

He hadn’t imagined it. There was uncertainty in her eyes. The sight would have made him smile if he’d had his own body. Mikayla was such a contradiction. Tough as nails and ready to battle anyone who crossed her one minute, shy and unsure the next.

His pleasure vanished, shame replacing it. Her hesitation with him was more trained than instinctive. He’d taught her to expect only a rebuff when she approached him.

She rose to her knees, gripping the hem of her shirt.

He sat up, alert. What was she doing now?

With a swift jerk she pulled the material over her head.

Electricity raced through him. There was no denying the sight of Mikayla in only a black, lacy bra inspired desire but this was different. His claws curled into the bedspread as his body vibrated with energy. The tremors refused to let up, growing in intensity. He gritted his sharp teeth, sure his body was about to explode. There was no surviving the sensations ripping him apart. He opened his mouth to howl when black clouded over his vision.