blood drained from my brain and rocketed straight to my cock. The very thought of her sprawled on her back, her legs spread while she used this on herself, had my canines sharpening.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered.
Slamming the vibrator back inside the box it came in, I folded the flaps, found some tape in a kitchen drawer, and sealed it as best I could. By the time I finished, my chest was heaving.
Propped under my arm, I marched for the door to go deliver it to the Savoie porch. Anonymously. As I opened my front door, I stopped and stared across their driveway to the house, imagining what Isadora would do if she knew I’d accidentally opened and discovered her new naughty toy. Then I remembered her infernal list in my pocket. A wicked smile split across my face.
“You shouldn’t,” I told myself.
But I already knew that I would. I stepped back inside the house, feeling “exceedingly superior” about my plan as I carried Isadora’s package with me.
Chapter 6
~ISADORA~
“Oh, yes,” I could hear Clara saying with enthusiasm to a customer in the shop as I stood in the inventory closet. “It will not only keep enemies away but will likely turn many of them into your friends.” She paused. “Hmm. One in particular, I think.”
“Why would I want an enemy to be a friend?” asked the woman, obviously puzzled.
Even though Clara whispered, I could hear her clearly. “Because one will be your next lover.”
The woman gasped, then stammered out, “I’ll take the crystal. And two packs of the l’amour tea.”
“Absolutely,” said Clara cheerily. “You won’t regret it.”
I smiled as I stared at my inventory spreadsheet on my clipboard. Clara had obviously tapped into her minor psychic ability with the customer. Each of my sisters held power in their specific magical discipline, but they also had a touch of other gifts. Like telekinesis and psychic ability. All of my sisters were powerful telekinetics. But I wasn’t. For some reason, I was a weak telekinetic and barely possessed the psychic abilities most witches had. But I was proud of my strength as a Conduit, even though it frustrated me sometimes that I was deficient in other areas.
I hung my clipboard with the updated inventory list on the nail on the inside of the closet and stepped out.
“Bye, now,” said Clara, waving after her smiling customer.
I stepped over to the counter and pet Z, who was curled up on the cashier counter in a basket with a pink polka-dot cushion.
“Why did you buy Z a pink bed?” Because Clara was in charge of the shop, it had to be her who’d bought it. Even though Z was technically Evie’s, we all loved him to distraction.
“I didn’t buy it. I made it.”
“But pink?” I asked.
“Real men can wear pink,” she emphasized, smiling at Z who was now purring in that sputtering way of his.
When I pulled energy from the room, the light blinked twice. I then poured a warm droplet of magic into my fingertips as I scratched him under the chin before calling out louder to Clara, “I hope you didn’t tell that lady the l’amour tea would bring her true love or anything.”
Clara scoffed, moving out from behind the register to straighten the bookshelf. “I told her the truth, of course. That it could draw someone who is attracted to her to make his move.”
“Mmm.” My stomach growled. “Well, I’m going to pop over and get Sam to make us some lunch. You want the usual?”
“Yep. Don’t forget the extra pickles please.”
“Never!” I called back, aghast.
She laughed behind me as I opened the shop door, the bell jingling overhead, then stepped into the alley that separated Maybelle’s from our bar. I strolled to the kitchen entrance and let myself in with my key on the rubber ring I kept around my wrist during the day. I always waited till past the lunch rush because I didn’t want to be a burden on Sam or Elsie, the line cooks who fixed our lunch most workdays.
“Hey, there, Iz,” said Sam, stacking an open-faced po’boy with crispy fried shrimp.
My mouth immediately watered. “Do you have time for an order for me and Clara?”
Sam glanced over, giving me a smirky smile. “I always have time for you.”
I grinned. Sam liked to flirt, but there had never been anything between him and the Savoie sisters. We’d come to think of him more like a brother. Same for JJ, our bartender, who’d been working for us for years. Our