This Wicked Magic - By Michele Hauf Page 0,31

which sat her mortars, one of which had been hand carved by her father in sandstone. “My brother and sister and I have never known anything different. Dark magic is not evil, Vika.”

“I know that.”

“But it’s not clean, either,” he added, turning and leaning against the counter, opposite the room from her.

His implication was loud and clear. She liked things clean. What was wrong with that?

“Have you a book of shadows?” he asked.

She nodded to the book open on the marble table that mastered the center of the room. “Been working on it since I could hold an ink pen and recite spells. Do you have a copy at the archives?”

“Probably. The Book of All Spells generates a page every time a witch creates a new spell. Dezideriel Merovech allows me access to the book frequently to keep things up-to-date.”

Dez was a nearly millennium-old witch who was married to vampire Ivan Drake, who served on the Council, along with his parents, Nikolaus and Raven. But they lived in the States, so CJ must travel to view the book.

“I’d love a peek inside that book,” Vika said.

“Even with all the dark magic lurking within its pages?”

“Even so. Curiosity doesn’t imply I have to practice it.”

“True. I do admire a curious heart.”

He placed his tattooed hand over his heart. The dark ink work blended against his black shirt. How painful to have endured the needle on what Vika guessed must be one of the most sensitive places on the human body.

“What are you working on at the moment?” he asked. “Anything I can help you with?”

Vika strolled to the spell table and tugged her book toward her. Normally she never shared her works in progress, but knowing CJ’s vast magical knowledge bolstered her eagerness to show him. And she wanted to share with him. It felt conducive to learning more about his life.

And anything that allowed them to converse closely appealed to her desire to have him near her.

“This is my latest interest.”

He slid onto the clear Lucite stool beside her and leaned over the book. Tugging a pair of foldable glasses from his shirt pocket, he put them on and read. That he wore glasses ratcheted up his sexiness level to a new degree. Smart men targeted Vika’s libido like chocolate and oysters did to some women. And though she knew glasses did not imply smartness, the look worked for her.

And his closeness stirred her senses to ultra-alert. He was so...there. Warmth rose from him in tangible waves. A solid entity she could not disregard. And he smelled like her herbarium, a wild mix of scents she could pick out, such as thyme, basil and bergamot, and then the scent would dissipate and allow another to rise, such as the dry sweetness of cedar she’d noticed last night. He wore the world on his skin. And she wanted to explore that world.

“Fire and water fusion. I like it,” he said, tapping the page in her book with a finger. Taking off his glasses, he tucked them away. “Show me?”

“I’m still in practice mode, but I can do little tricks.” She pulled a beeswax candle set in a silver holder to her and, with a breath and the thought lumiere, brought the wick to flame.

“You’ve mastered fire?”

“No, all witches know that simple trick.”

He leaned his elbows on the counter, which rubbed his arm against hers, and Vika stood there a moment, staring at the candle flame, while her attention was focused on the intimate contact. Skin on skin would feel better. Cedar and bergamot permeating her flesh and warming her senses to a heady desire.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

Gliding her fingers above the flame, not touching, she recited the spell. “Earth, fire, bone, water.” With a tap of her finger to the flame, the red heat transformed to blue water and continued to flicker in flame shape.

“Nice,” CJ said.

“You can probably reduce an entire burning building to water,” she said, catching her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “Am I right?”

He shrugged. He could, but he was nice enough not to say so after her small accomplishment.

“Draw it out,” he said with a nod to the watery flame.

“I haven’t gotten that far in my study yet.”

“It’s all in the hands and intention.” He took her hand and she spread her fingers wide, accepting the intense heat of their connection. CJ smoothed his palm across hers with the untattooed hand, indicating she should hold it flat before

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