Free This Wicked Magic by Michele Hauf

Certainly Jones. Have you been so busy you haven’t taken the time to kiss a woman?”
    “Pretty damn close. I get it when I need it.” That had been a vulgar confession. She didn’t seem to mind. “I just...” He touched her lower lip, wanting to remember the shape of it, to imprint its seductive power upon his flesh. “I think you just touched parts of me that haven’t seen light in a long time.”
    “Really?” She glanced above their heads. “Even with all this prismatic noise going on?”
    “Vika, there are places inside me that will never see the light.”
    “That’s awful to say.” A stroke of her fingers along his jaw, and he closed his eyes to focus on the exploring touch, to memorize it. “We’ll get the demons out.”
    “You’ve suddenly become my cheerleader for demon expulsion.”
    She gestured with a shrug of her shoulders. “Guess I figured out you might be worth the trouble.” She kissed him again and, spreading her fingers through his, entwined both her hands within his near their thighs. “Between fighting for my life with the menace demon earlier and walking beneath this amazing constellation of light, my world view has altered in a way not even magic could manage. I’ve always liked things a certain way, neat and tidy. You disperse disorder, chaos and menace with every footstep you make.”
    “It’s not something I can control.”
    “I know, you explained that. But, well...” She smiled a blushing smile, and her thick lashes fluttered coyly, like butterfly fringe. “I think I understand now why my sister is always falling for the bad boys.”
    CJ’s shoulders straightened proudly. “Are you saying I’m a bad boy? I’m just me. Certainly Jones. Boring ole archivist and occasional adventurer to places no human or paranormal breed should ever venture. Fearful of the dark, and keeper of prismatic light.”
    “And the best kiss I’ve had.”
    He tilted down his head as if to say “really?”.
    “Ever. And that’s saying a lot, trust me.”
    “Guess I’m not so rusty as I think.” She strolled past him toward the door, and Certainly’s heartbeat stuttered. “You’re leaving?”
    “Yes.” She twisted an end of red hair about her finger. “I feel compelled to leave the night where it stands, kind of wondrous and new. To save some anticipation.”
    Really? That’s what women wanted? Anticipation?
    “I want to spend some time browsing through my grimoires tonight, see if I can find something to expel demons.” She paused at the door, hand falling onto the knob. “You didn’t expect me to stay?”
    “Oh, no. I mean, not unless you wanted to.” At her raised brow, he rushed out another forced refusal. “No. That would be forward. I’m not that kind of guy.” He winced. “I’ve never been that kind of guy.”
    He wanted to change that, though, to somehow fit into Vika’s idea of anticipation.
    She smiled, and her emerald eyes beamed brighter than the crystals overhead. “See you tomorrow, Certainly. If you happen to feel a stray soul brush up against you, grab it, will you?”
    “How do I contain it?”
    “With a mirror. You know catoptromancy?”
    “Of course.” The practice involved catching souls with a mirror. He should be able to manage that, even with his lesser powers. “Good night, Vika, Purveyor of Anticipation.”
    She tilted her head and blew him a kiss.
    And he felt it land in the vicinity of his core, there in his center where the demons roiled, anticipating the night. The darkness. Yet something bright and bold had touched their incorporeal carcasses.
    And they didn’t like it one bit.
    * * *
    Vika spun beneath the chandelier in her living room, only to crash into her sister. Libby held her back, her eyes wide and a silly smirk tickling her lips. “What is up with you, sister mine?”
    “Don’t ask,” Vika rushed out. “You’ll just laugh.”
    “I have never seen you dancing in the middle of the room as if you were at a Samhain