Well, Icould, but it would be a bad idea. I’m full of ideas, but they’re good ones. At least, I like to think so.
Still, I run to my room to the chest where I keep all my supplies and grab a red altar candle. “Offering, offering…” I mutter to myself.
Amber said devils like gross things and precious things. Still holding the wand, I open up the wooden jewelry box I keep on my dressing table. I riffle through my jewelry; most of it is too precious to leave as an offering: my Mom’s old heart shaped door knockers that are still my favorite pair of earrings, bangles left behind by my Grandmother, my Gramp’s class ring he gifted to me when I was accepted to college.
I find the pair of dangling flower earrings Alexander bought me for our three month anniversary. I was absolutely floored by them when he first presented them to me. He informed–or maybe bragged to–me that those were real teardrop diamonds hanging from the intricate flower posts decorated with what I recognized as citrine. I wore them exclusively on date nights with Alexander. Now looking at them, all I can think about is his long face and his long frown looking at me and saying nothing while I cry.
I grab both earrings and return to my living room, setting the earrings down at the base of the candle before lighting the wick. Looking at my work, I realize I have everything the spells needs. Well, I want to clean up my sketch more and go over it with white chalk. Maybe I should put the candle and offering on a proper altar instead of on the floor? But still, it was pretty impressive work for one day and all by myself. Light from street lamps pours through my windows.
The last step is the incantation, a spark to start the reaction. I lazily point the wand at the center of the circle and whisper the incantation, as if speaking in a low voice could hide my words from the universe.
This was ill advised, I realize a second too late, as the flame of the candle plumes past the wax wall that contained it. I stop speaking, but the flame keeps growing. The candle melts like it’s inside an oven, red rivers of wax pouring onto the floor and onto the offering.
Theone timeI want things to stop, it’s too late. If I don’t keep speaking, the spell will still…occur. Not the spell I intended to cast, butsomethingwill happen. I keep my wand pointed at the center of the circle and continue the chant, not letting myself dwell on my mistake. It feels like the magic circle is pulling me in, trying to consume me along with the offering and the candle. I brace myself, digging my heels into the wood floor.
Then, the candle extinguishes. Once brand new, it’s now over halfway burned, with arms of wax around it like a spider web. The earrings left as offerings are lost in a river of wax. Smoke hangs in the room; at first, I think it’s from the candle, only to see it’s the chalk lifting and disappearing off the wood floor returning to the air as dust. I hold my breath, not wanting to get chalk dust in my lungs. The dust swirls, though there’s no breeze in my apartment and begins to gather at the center of the circle surrounding the candle.
Then, nothing.
I huff, accepting the spell failed. Then the candle is alight again, now with an eerie purple flame. A sound like a garbage truck hitting a semi rips through my apartment. I cover my ears and shut my eyes trying to drown it out. When I open my eyes, it’s all gone: the chalk, the candles, the offering. And standing in their absence is a man.
A very naked man.
CHAPTERTWO
MINNIE
I have never been moregrateful to see a stranger’s bare behind, because at least that means the man hasn’t seen me yet. I stare–more like gawk–at the figure with olive skin like aged parchment. Black curls brush his shoulders. My eyes wander further down, and I try to focus on the dimples right above his rear instead of looking any lower. But damn it, his butt is perfectly toned without losing its roundness.
He clears his throat. My eyes jolt up and are caught by a single golden eye glaring at me over a shoulder. Not golden like brown with hints of yellow, but golden like his eyes are solid gold coins. The contrast of his inky black curls and his warm eyes is breathtaking enough, but the way his eyes bore into me takes my breath away.
Finally the figure turns to face me. “Oh–” I wince, covering half his body with my hand. I like the view, sure, but I’m not really ready to see this stranger’s family jewels.
A low, smokey voice speaks. “You summoned me.”
I blink, and it hits me that the spell worked–too well. “I was practicing,” I breathe.
He doesn’t seem to hear me. “Yousummonedme?” his gravelly voice repeats, though this time it’s a touch mocking.
I furrow my brows. “It appears that way, doesn’t it?” The figure scoffs and starts to walk away, right to my front door. “No, no, no–” I panic, running to block his exit and press my back against the door.
This doesn’t stop the man, who walks right up to me. “Move,” he commands.
“Absolutely not!” I respond, shaking my head. “You aremuchtoo naked to be going anywhere–”
He lifts a brow. “Naked?”
“A-and I summoned you here!” I straighten my back and lift my chin. “Which means you have to listen to me.”
The figure chuckles, showing off bone white teeth. “I listen to no one, little witch.”
I hadn’t taken in the entirety of his face before this moment. Lips so full I’m jealous rest on a square jaw with a jutting chin. His nose is curved, long, and distinct like the rest of him. Though his eyes are striking, they’re probably his smallest feature, almond shaped and cat-like. He towers above me like everyone else, the joys of being 5'1”, but his broad shoulders somehow make me feel more trapped than if he had just been tall.
“Look, if you leave this apartment looking like you do, you’re going to get arrested.”
“What?” he snarls.
Somehow that’s the most polite thing he’s said so far. “You’re going to be attacked if you leave, but we really need to talk about–'' There's a knock at my door. I freeze–more than freeze. Ice pumps through my veins. If I could shatter like a lake in March, I would.
