“Yes, the kitchen.” Vika shook her head admonishingly at CJ and directed the soul bringer through the swinging kitchen doors. “You stay under the light,” she called back to CJ.
“Uh-huh. The light.” The French doors swung shut with a snap. CJ looked to Libby. “What the hell?”
“It’s routine,” Libby said, still holding his arm, as if she had enough strength to hold him off from storming the kitchen and making sure his woman did not strip for the brutish stranger.
His woman? Far from it. But wouldn’t he like to make that claim, and mean it? Not if she got naked for every man who passed through her front door, or her ether, as the situation was.
“Is that how it’s always done? She gets naked for him. Every time?”
“Well, she usually has on her bra and undies—which I’m sure she’s wearing today. Maybe. Rarely is she completely naked. Though there are occasions. It’s all cool. Reichardt is...” Libby sighed heavily. “Emotionless.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not copping a feel.”
“Oh, I think it does. He doesn’t actually touch her to scrub the souls. He uses a form of catoptromancy, but the mirrors he uses are his eyes. They go all silvery when he’s performing the scrub. I’m not sure he sees the nude body in the same manner a normal man would.” Again, another sigh. “I wouldn’t let it bother you. Trust me. It’ll only screw with your head.”
Less than five minutes later, Vika breezed through the kitchen doors, followed by Reichardt. Vika tugged at the neckline of her dress and flipped her hair over a shoulder. CJ eyed the soul bringer warily. He didn’t look overly satisfied to have just felt up his girlfriend.
She’s not your girlfriend!
Still.
“Libby,” the soul bringer said.
Libby perked.
“Have you another of those cookies?”
“Really? Yes!” With a delighted squeal, Libby headed toward the kitchen, grabbing Reichardt’s hand as she did and tugging him bodily through the swinging doorway.
Vika approached CJ with a smirk. “She’s a crush on the guy.”
“That explains the wistful sighs.”
“Sighs and fantasies that will never come true. Poor girl. Of all the paranormal breeds in this universe, she had to fall for the one completely lacking in emotion. I’m not sure his glass heart beats. How sad is that?”
“The sad part is, he just got to see you naked, and I did not.”
“I was wearing panties. And he doesn’t see me. He goes into some weird trance and I think he only sees the souls. He got the soul, by the way. I’m safe.”
“Safe, but still not naked,” CJ said teasingly. “Just panties? So he saw your...?”
“Is that all you men think about? Getting a woman naked?”
“It is a favorite thought, but not exclusive to the male brain. We also think a lot about food, entertainment—usually of the sporting kind—sex, cars, magic—in my case—sex, and yes, more naked women. Tell me you ladies don’t undress we men with your eyes?”
“Well.” She let her eyes travel down his chest, and CJ suddenly felt very naked. It was not an undesired feeling, either. “Yes, I suppose we do.”
She turned and walked off, turning to crook a finger at him. “Want me to show you my spells?”
Thinking he’d rather see her panties, CJ cast a look to the chandelier above. Out the window the sky had brightened, and the clouds had moved away. Safe, for now. He followed the witch into the spell room.
Chapter 7
Inviting CJ into her spell room was putting her trust out there as far as she dared. This room was personal to Libby and her. Most witches did not eagerly invite others to peruse their spell rooms, but she had snooped over CJ’s domain. This wasn’t so much an “I owe you a peek” offer, as an “I need to get to know you better” show of trust. And he had once already been inside, not at her invitation, so to now wrest control put her in a place of power.
Vika stood in the doorway, arms crossed and hip against the door frame, as Certainly strode about the room, studying the glass drawers for ingredients. She liked the contrast now of dark and light. Wherever CJ went he insinuated darkness. Not purposefully, but merely by being. His was a complicated darkness, woven with strands so twisted and complex Vika wondered if he could ever become untangled.
“Did you ever not want to practice dark magic?” she asked.
“No. My parents practiced the same.” He ran a long finger over the front of a glass door, behind