Magical Mistakes(4)

Anger came to her rescue, banishing the painful hurt. How dare he? He had no idea who he was messing 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.

And the black smoke curling at his ankles.

Ice flowed through her veins as the fumes surrounded the startled man. Her heartbeat kicked up another notch but this time, not from triumph. The spell she’d cast shouldn’t be reacting in such a physical way. Ciar was supposed to look at her with adoration, not be swallowed by inky dark fumes.

“Oh crap,” she whispered as she watched the cloud swallow him.

Bursting from the doorway, Mikayla raced for the swirling mass of black smoke, trying to think of a rhyme to break the spell. Whatever had a hold of him, it wasn’t the magic she’d called.

Or thought she’d called.

Words and incantations swirled in her brain as she tried to act, but panic made it impossible to string the correct order of the spell together. There must be a way to stop it. Something to undo her foolish mistake.

But before any words could leave her lips, the smoke parted and rolled away.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, stumbling to a halt. “I am so dead.”





Chapter Two




“Mikayla?” Wyn’s voice called out from behind her. Mikayla turned to see her sister poke her head through the side door before turning to call back inside, “Tamsyn, she headed this way.” Wyn stepped out into the alley. “What are you doing out here, little sis?”

“We were looking for you,” Tamsyn added as she left the bar.

Together they strode to Mikayla’s frozen side.

“What the hell is that?” Wyn asked when she stopped beside her sister.

“That,” Mikayla croaked, pointing toward the ground, “is Ciar.”

The three sisters looked down in horror at the creature sitting by their feet.

“Ciar?” Tamsyn whispered.

“I tried a spell and…”

“That’s the demon who strikes terror into the hearts of his enemies?” Wyn demanded.

“I don’t think terror is an emotion he’ll be invoking anytime soon,” Mikayla replied. “At least not until we reverse this and he destroys me.”

At their feet, a small bundle of white fluff yelped in annoyance.

“Is it what I think it is?” Wyn asked.

“Looks like a toy poodle,” Tamsyn replied.

A grin split Wyn’s face. “I have to say, for such a big guy he makes a rather adorable dog.”

“So, so dead,” Mikayla muttered to herself.

Tamsyn crouched down to get a better view of the dog before them. “Well, not necessarily. Do you think he understands what’s happening?”