Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell #2) - Juliette Cross Page 0,25
details.”
“I’m open to all suggestions at this point. Anything to catch these assholes.”
“I’ll text you later.” I left and headed to my rental sportscar on the curb, my brain spinning with my still-forming plan.
I glanced up the street and couldn’t help looking in the direction Isadora had gone. I wondered where she was headed this morning. All chipper and smiling. That is, until she’d seen me and I’d called her name.
Why was she so offended by my presence? I was a likeable guy, dammit.
There was the fact I’d hit her with my car. True.
I found her fascinating. Was it because she seemed to want to flee my presence the second we were ever alone? I wasn’t sure. Something about her made me want to know her better. Yes, I was accustomed to people liking me. Especially women. But Isadora Savoie did not, that was for sure.
And now, this fucking list of hers.
I pulled it out of my back pocket and then started the engine, wanting to take a look at her pros and cons list of “Devraj Egomaniac Kumar.”
I was not an egomaniac. Just because I was better at just about everything than the average person or supernatural didn’t mean I was an egomaniac. Huffing a sigh, I read to myself.
Pros:
Nice physique, but typical of most vampires really
Somewhat considerate—after he runs people over with his expensive car
Charming—but kind of over-the-top with it (note to vampire: stop trying so hard)
Pretty hair
I grinned. She thought my hair was pretty? Then I frowned. That was the only thing she didn’t have a negative addendum tacked onto her pseudo-compliments. I sped the few blocks down Magazine Street but stopped for the red light next to Mystic Maybelle’s. I reread the rest of the list then.
Cons:
Exceedingly superior and full of himself
Needs to be the center of attention
Too rich, clothes too fancy; obviously overcompensating for something
Ridiculously expensive car and social media pics point to SPS
Following that, there was a doodle of a man’s torso and a micro-penis between his legs. I couldn’t help but laugh. Her illustration must have been of me suffering from Small Penis Syndrome.
I hung a right toward my rental house and then slowed as I passed the Savoie residence, grinning and shaking my head.
Isadora was intriguing. And funny, even when she didn’t intend to be. The sight of her this morning, her face fresh and bare, her walk light and free, her clothes casual but pretty in that Bohemian way. That’s when it hit me what it was about her.
She wore no masks of any kind and a no-nonsense attitude with pride. There was no artifice to her at all. Living in a world where everyone around me had mastered the art of deception, I couldn’t help but find her compelling. A strange creature I hadn’t met before. One whose forthright and honest outlook made me want to stop and take note. To look. And linger.
I pulled into the driveway and stared down at the list one more time before stuffing it into my pocket. This witch loathed me on principle, but she definitely had a lot of misconceptions about me. And the gauntlet she inadvertently threw down with this damn list had my mind turning.
“Challenge accepted,” I whispered to myself before marching up the walk to find a brown box sitting by the door. Frowning, I immediately scanned with my senses to determine if this was a threat or if it was dropped off by one.
No sign of any supernatural scent on the box. And no dangerous smell emanated from within. No magical energy anywhere. Only human.
I picked up the package. Strange. I didn’t order anything. Was it something the movers forgot and I’d overlooked?
I unlocked the doors, waltzed into the kitchen, and dropped my keys on the granite countertop. After lifting a knife out of the butcher block, I slit the tape and opened the box, then lifted another smaller box from within.
And stopped.
And stared.
“What in the—?”
I flipped it over to check out the package promotion that read: Buckle up for fun with Big John! 9 vibration modes to deliver wide sensations. Waterproof for bath and shower fun. Whisper quiet motor for wild fantasy play. Explosive pleasure-inducing orgasms guaranteed.
Chuckling, I flipped it back over to read the vibrator’s name. Some lucky lady was obviously going to miss out on nine modes of vibration to take her to ecstasy. I lifted the brown box it was packaged in and read the name and address.