The bastard’s weaving magic around us, and he thinks I haven’t noticed him. It’s a cunning spell, designed to trap its victims in a snare from which they can’t escape. It’s potent, and it works more often than not—but I am not an easy target.
I know it—and more importantly; the warlock knows it too.
This won’t be the only spell he’s casting, and he’s probably not alone. This is dangerous and Adriana’s carrying on oblivious, debating whether she prefers roses or peonies.
“Get both.”
“We don’t need both,” she replies.
I smile and push a little magic out, subtly counteracting the warlock’s spell. “Technically, no one needs cut flowers. If you like them, get them. You can thank me later.”
Adriana’s head snaps around, and it gives me the perfect opportunity to take a step back.
“What are you going to make me do?”
“Nothing, baby,” I say, calm despite the control shattering inside me.
The warlock thinks this is the time to strike, and he’s making a fundamental error. I’m already counteracting the first spell he’s attempting to trap us with, and I’ve caught the trace of another two. The man is in way over his head and I’m going to kill him.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Unless it’s necessary to kill him faster to keep Adriana safe.
“You always want something,” she says and huffs. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I always want you.” I laugh. “You’re fucking hot and I can’t resist the temptation. Especially when you show me that sexy little body of yours.”
Adriana blushes and squirms, ignoring the compliment as she looks to use this moment to her advantage.
“You don’t care what I want. As long as I’m a good little whore.”
My dick throbs and now I’m fighting a battle on three fronts. This is getting awkward and I’m going to have to deal with this. Decisively. Before my cock has enough and the overwhelming need to fuck Adriana obscures my better judgment.
“This isn’t the time for this discussion, baby.” My voice is a whisper to push her into the florist, and I pull out my bank card. “Get whatever flowers you want and we can discuss your sluttiness over drinks.”
“I don’t believe you,” Adriana huffs.
I smile and ignore the urge to shake her until she sees sense or put her over my knee and spank her. My girl is right to be cautious, but her disobedience is putting her at risk.
“On this occasion, you should. I’ll make you a deal. Buy whatever flowers please you and I won’t say a word about them. No consequences. Just no more than two bouquets, baby.”
“Really?”
She squeals, and I delight in finding a new way to manipulate her. Adriana thinks she’s gotten one over on me and it’s given her a thrill that will make her easier to control—and on another occasion, it’ll be a fucking pleasure to crush her confidence.
“Really, baby.” I give her my card. “Remember, no more than two bouquets.”
My girl leaps and bounds toward the shop, skipping like a schoolgirl. I smile as she looks back over her shoulder and waves at me—and when she talks to the florist, the façade on my face drops.
I’m done playing nice.
The warlock pulses magic in a surge that should sweep me off my feet. I push back against him, meeting his black magic with one of my own. One far more potent and far more sinister. It’s vicious. It’s twisted. It’s pure, unbridled evil and I refuse to hold it back.
Light fades as the storm clouds gather and darkness descends on the streets of London. The warlock knows I’m holding him at bay and he reaches for one of the other spells. It’s a different type of enchantment, borne of Hell and brim fire, of sin and deceit, and it’s just as potent as his first trick.
The asshole launches all his power into both simultaneously, and the surprise is enough to catch me ever so slightly off guard. I knew he was powerful, but I’d underestimated him and I pull up something from the depths of Hell itself to guard against the darkness trying to wrap itself around me.
