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“What?”

His voice is low now. Rough.

“I mean it. Who said that to you?”

“W-Why?”

“Because they were dead fucking wrong and someone should let them know. I can do that.”

“What?”

He takes another step closer, and dear Goddess, he is big.

Tall. Built. Utterly, brutally beautiful.

I should back away.

I don't.

“You heard me.”

“Damian—”

His hand rises slowly, giving me every opportunity to stop him. I don't do that either.

His fingertips brush my cheek.

Instant heat.

Those strange golden sparks flicker beneath my skin.

Damian looks down, touches my hand and the sparkles go crazy.

His eyes flash red.

“See?” I whisper. “You make my magic go weird.”

His gaze drops to my mouth.

“Little Witch, I'm starting to think you make everything about me go weird.”

My breath catches.

“That's not very romantic.”

“I'm a Jersey Devil, Sweet. We're not known for poetry.”

I smile despite myself.

“Then what are you known for?”

His thumb traces my cheek.

“Bad decisions.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It should.”