Free The Spell by Heather Killough-Walden

road that ran along the front of the house. She glanced once behind her at the shrinking facade of her two-story house. Not for the first time that night, she thought of how crazy she was behaving. And then Caige began to pick up tremendous speed, putting distance between her and the safety of her home as if his life depended on it.

Chapter Five: “Toil and Trouble”
    She wondered where they were going. They’d been driving the mist-shrouded streets for at least ten minutes, neither of them attempting to speak over the Harley’s engine. Not that she wasn’t fine with just riding.
    The September night was cool and crisp. The smell of wood smoke permeated the sky, and between the drifting, low-lying clouds, Danny could make out the thick starlit strip of the Milky Way. She was glad she’d grabbed her jacket before leaving the house. She could easily heal any malady she picked up due to a compromised immune system, but it was always easier to just not get sick in the first place.
    Still, she wasn’t completely cold. Lucas’s body was like a furnace in front of her. Did werewolves just burn hot, or did he have a fever? He was radiating enough warmth that the only really chilly parts of her own body were her nose and ears. The smell of his aftershave, scented soap and leather jacket drifted over her, buffeted by the wind, but still strong enough to warm her on the inside as well as his nearness was warming her on the outside.
    She felt comfortable there behind him. She seemed to fit there, her body pressed against his, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Caige carved the corners in the road as if he’d been riding for fifty years – and maybe he had. The bike seemed an extension of him more than a vehicle of any sort, and even its roar fit Lucas’s dark, un-kept character.
    Every now and then, she glanced over the black leather on his broad shoulder to catch glimpses of his switching grip on the throttle, his black motorcycle boot on the gear shift, the strong line of his jaw with the five o’clock shadow… and she felt a warmth somewhere deeper. More private.
    He was getting to her. Every square millimeter of the man was pure, unadulterated masculinity.
    Danny closed her eyes and leaned forward to rest her cheek on the solid wall of his back. She knew she was playing with fire. Dark, black, cold-burning fire that would sear the shit out of her if she wasn’t careful. But there were the dreams to contend with. And Imani was right. Things weren’t going to get better.
    The truth of it was that despite Caige’s infamous dislike of magic of any kind, Danny had always sort of admired him from afar. It was why she knew so much about him – his past, his brother, even some of his habits. She had always been interested in the black-eyed werewolf who stood apart from the others. The loner.
    Of course, she’d never revealed herself to him. Now, as she rode behind him, pressed so tightly against him, she had to wonder why. Why hadn’t she ever wanted Caige to see her in person when the werewolf community called in the witches for help? Why hadn’t she ever wanted him to know she was a witch?
    Because I’ve always liked him.
    Danny blinked and straightened in the saddle. Crap, she thought . I never wanted him to know because I didn’t want him to associate me with something he hated. I wanted him to like me instead. Even before her dormant-induced werewolf dreams had ever started… she’d had a thing for Lucas Caige.
    As this realization rolled over her like a bank of mind-numbing fog, Lucas slowed the bike down and turned onto a smaller street. Danny recognized the street, as well as the lights that were making the night time sky glow over the tree tops in the near distance.
    At the moment, around the next corner, the Trinidad Fall Festival was taking place. There would be music, food, arts and crafts booths, games, a bon fire, and several performances by actors, magicians and the like. The festivities began