She dropped her gaze, her heart cracking. She should have left him alone all those months ago, should have thought that he might have a valid reason to despise her. How could he have stood being with her these few days? How could he hold her now?
“Hey,” he said softly, tilting her face back up to his. “It was not your crime.”
“I’m a witch,” she whispered. “How can you move past that?”
His fingers traced over her cheek. “I didn’t think I could.”
She tried to draw away but he stopped her once more. “Then you cast this infernal spell on me.”
“I must have confirmed all your worst suspicions.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You know what I’ve seen these past few days? A family willing to do anything to protect each other. I’ve seen how hard you fight to right your wrongs. Nothing about you is malicious or evil.”
“Even though I did this to you?”
A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “I didn’t say you are a gifted spell caster.”
She hit his shoulder, smiling despite herself.
When his chuckles subsided a seriousness crept back into his gaze. “I didn’t think I could care for one of your kind.”
Her chest tightened. “And now?”
In response he leaned closer and kissed her. The touch was sweet, not passionate. It was gentle, tender. A gossamer caress that nearly brought tears to her eyes. He touched her as if she were a treasure. Never before had he treated her with such deliberate care.
“We should get back,” he said. “We will be missed.”
She blinked, unwilling to relinquish the moment.
“Mikayla,” he murmured, running a finger down her cheek. “We need to go.”
“I don’t want to.”
He inclined his head. “You know what it would take to keep me here. We wouldn’t have a deadline hanging over our heads.”
“Your deadline.” The words were whispered.
“Will you tell me?”
She kissed him in reply, much the way he had her. She could tell him the truth, or she could answer him with her feelings. She brushed her lips over his as she tried to show him how much he meant to her. Everything she did was to save him.
When she drew back there was no anger in his eyes over her refusal to answer. Instead his smile was almost sad.
“Let’s go,” he said.
As they dressed reality started to creep back into their idyllic time-out. By the time they were fully clothed Ciar’s expression had shuttered once more. With a last look at her, he turned and headed back to the house alone. Mikayla watched him go, wishing with everything she had that she could have made him stay.
Chapter Eight
Mikayla watched the sunset on her final day. She had spent every moment scouring books and trying out spells to no avail. She couldn’t reverse the curse and Ciar still hadn’t fallen in love.
Especially not with her.
She sighed as she looked out the living room window at the darkening street. What would happen, she wondered, when the clock struck midnight on their twisted fairy tale? What would Ciar do when she had no answers to give?
All day long she tried to ignore the weight of his gaze on her. Since their tryst in the garden everything had been both better and worse. Ciar had stopped sniping at her but now there was the unspoken promise hanging between them. Give him what he wanted and he’d be hers. For a little while, at least.
It was a bargain she was far too tempted by.
“Did the magic wear off?”
The sound of her sister’s voice drew her toward the kitchen. She paused in the hallway, listening in.
“Yeah,” Wyn replied. “Looks like Ciar is speaking in woofs again.”
Mikayla heard the flipping of pages and figured her sisters were still in research mode.
“I don’t know about you,” Wyn said, “but sharing a house with two demons is making me a little antsy.”
“I’m not worried about their presence so much as I am worried about their departure.”
Wyn sighed. “You mean, what their departure will do to Mikayla.”
Tamsyn nodded.
“Look, would it be so bad if he chose Alina?” Wyn asked after a moment. “A demon in the family does give new meaning to having a brother-in-law from hell.”
Tamsyn sighed at the words. “Are you going to tell her she can’t have him? I see that doing a lot of good.”
“Some people don’t know what’s best for them.”
“And you do?” Mikayla demanded, pushing the door open before the conversation could continue.
Both sisters looked up guiltily but there was no apology on their tongues.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Wyn said, not backing down. “Ciar belongs with Alina.”