An American Witch In Paris

“Vampire.”

“I know that. I mean, what’s his deal? He’s so...angry.”

“Really? This coming from the angriest witch I’ve ever met?”

“You guys did kidnap me.”

“Point taken. Don’t give Pierce such a hard time. He generally works behind the desk telling others what to do. But I think this time it’s personal.”

“How so?”

Certainly shrugged. “Not sure. And even if I did have a clue? That’s for him to give to you, not me. Close your eyes.”

Tuesday did so because she was tired and wanted to get out of this stupid cage. Much as shackling her magic against anyone would piss her off, at the very least he wasn’t completely disabling her.

The witch chanted a spell that caused the rope to suddenly squeeze about her. She felt the sigil beneath her shirt warm and reach out for the rope. It didn’t like being controlled. Which was a good thing. And she counted on its retaliation.

In a matter of moments the witch said, “So mote it be.”

And the rope fell slack again, as if an ill-hung necklace. Tuesday let out a breath. Her skin tingled, but otherwise, she didn’t feel any different. In the next instant, the obsidian on the cord flew out from the witch’s pocket and landed smartly in Tuesday’s grasp.

The cage door opened and Ethan asked, “How will we know it worked?”

“It worked.” CJ stepped out of the cage. “My magic always works.” He winked at Tuesday. “I’m sorry, but the rope is the shackle. You’ll have to figure out your own style for that.” He turned to Ethan. “You going to take her upstairs for a bit, then...off to adventure?”

The men shared a look that was a few seconds too long for Tuesday not to wonder what had gone unspoken.

“Right,” Ethan suddenly said. “I’ve got some things to finish up in the office. Come on, witch.”

“Really? You’re going to let your new pet out on a leash?” She flopped the lariat around before her. “Aren’t you the kindest master ever.”

“Good luck,” CJ said and wandered out of the room.

“Get out of the cage, witch.”

She stepped up to the threshold. “My name is Tuesday. Treat me well and I will return the kindness.”

Ethan nodded. “Lead me to the demon and I’ll be more than grateful.”

“I’m not going to lead you anywhere without cold hard cash.”

“What?”

“You think I’m going to do this for nothing? Slavery went out last century. If you want me to cooperate we need to talk money.” She jumped down onto the concrete floor, blessedly relieved to have left the smothering confines of that magic-busting cage. With a shiver and a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she walked up to the man.

He stood a head higher than her, but she was accustomed to looking up to people, mostly men. Her stance spoke louder than her lacking height.

“How much do you want?” he asked, surprising her that he hadn’t argued.

“A million. US dollars, not your freaky French euros.”

He broke out into throaty laughter that, in any other circumstance, might have grasped her by the lusting heart and teased her to flutter her lashes at him. But this was not any other time. With a flick of her forefinger, Tuesday tossed a beam of pain at the vampire. The magic burst into a spray of violet sparks just inches from his face and dispersed.

Damn shackle.

“Good to see CJ’s spell works,” he said. “Tough luck, witch. I’m impervious to your magic now.”

Only so long as the shackle stayed in place. And her sigil was so hot that it could burn through pretty much anything right now...

“Half a million then,” she said.

“Ten grand.”

Tuesday spun and jumped up into the cage opening. “I think I’ll stay here then. Apparently, I’m the only one who can do what you need done. I’m worth more than a few bucks. You think about it, then get back to me.”

“I’ve got a budget, witch.”

“And I’ve got all the time in the world. Do you?”

He rubbed his stubble-shadowed jaw. Tuesday rather liked it when a man tickled his stubble over her skin, as his gaze journeyed down her stomach and lower. And his beard was frosted with a touch of grey in the dark brown, which added a delicious seasoning to his appearance. If the man wasn’t so obstinate he’d actually be sexy.

“A hundred thousand,” he offered. “That’s as high as I can go.”

“Deal.” Tuesday jumped down again and marched past him toward the door. She would have taken the ten grand. “Let’s get out of this dungeon. Did you forget I need to pee?”

* * *

The witch had gone into the private bathroom attached to the office Ethan occupied in headquarters. There were no windows in the small washroom for her to escape through, so he trusted her to shut the door.

Meanwhile, he checked his email. No new orders waiting for retrieval assignment. And he’d sent details regarding his taking this particular mission to the Council. No reply, so far, was good news.

He glanced to the maple-wood bathroom door. He and CJ had only planned things so far. And that plan hadn’t quite come to complete fruition. It would, soon enough. He wasn’t sure how he was going to work with the witch.

She was obstinate. A smart-ass. And he hadn’t expected her to be gorgeous. Utterly beautiful. In a weird, silver Goth sort of way. Behind her defensive, smart mouth and angry rubber band-snapping machinations he felt sure a sensual goddess inhabited the irresistible curves and gemstone blue eyes.

He raked fingers through his hair and shook his head. What was he thinking? He needed to do this right. He was the boss. And he wasn’t about to show weakness or failure to his employees by letting his thoughts stray from the task at hand.

He’d handle the witch with a strong hand and command. He had to stay on guard with her. To set an example for others. But it would prove a challenge, not only because of her odd appeal, but also because it had been so long since he’d actually worked a mission. If she learned that he was questioning his own abilities—and thus had taken the job to prove he wasn’t washed up and was physically capable of handling such a mission—he’d never succeed.

* * *

They headed out, Tuesday following Ethan’s sure gait. It was a confident walk. A sexy walk. After many turns and an elevator ride down four floors, the sight of a door up ahead gave her great glee. Soon.

She pressed her hand over the shackle rope, which she’d been holding snug against the sigil. The rope fibers were hot and smoldering. It was working.

“I don’t live far from here. We’ll walk,” Ethan said.

He’d mentioned they would discuss a plan for capturing the demon. Why they didn’t simply do it in his office was beyond her, but she appreciated the opportunity to get out of the building. And away.