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His wings slice through the void, propelling us ten feet over the chamomile lawn. The full moon shines down from a star-lit sky, turning the petals a delicate shade of silver.
“That night you and I slept in the same bed, I had a powerful dream about King Henry,” I murmur.
He stills.
“I saw your wedding night.”
“You did?”
“I was your wife in the dream, and I saw that she was working with a witch.”
“She had an entire coven at her command,” he snarls. “I had the lot of them executed for treason.”
An explosion sounds from below, its shockwaves pushing us past the enforcers and the confused-looking men, past the lawn and the rubble that was once the guest cottage, and past the compost heap.
We drift over the orchard, where two figures sprint through the trees. Aggie is tugging on a wooden stake attached to a naked man I vaguely remember from the village.
“Hurry up,” she snaps.
“I’ve got a good mind to tell those enforcers you transfigured me into a broomstick.”
“Good luck telling the Magical Council how you ran away of your own free will to cheat with my grandma,” she hisses. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
He sniffs. “At least the old lady didn’t take me for granted.”
Part of me wants to ask the Boogie Man to save Aggie, but then I remember all the broomstick’s tree sap. Everything makes complete sense now. Each time someone touched its shaft, it was like stroking a man’s erection.
I shake my head. Aggie is no better than any other member of our coven. The only difference is that she was more creative.
The Boogie Man nuzzles my neck, sending tingles across my skin. His arm tightens around my waist, and the cockhead sucking my slit pulses with up and down movements that make it throb.
My lips part with a moan. I wish the one in my pussy was a little longer.
“Would you like me to return your magic?” he asks.
Every muscle in my body stiffens, and my heart skips a beat. Of course, I want my magic back. Without it, I’m not even a witch, but it took the skills of Grandma to siphon power from an ancient corpse.
That magic disappeared when the Boogie Man tore it from his wife’s chest. Even if I was capable of finding that power, there’s no way on earth I’d be able to transfer something as nebulous as magic from one vessel to another.
I turn my head to meet his arresting green eyes. “How, when I can’t even use a wand?”
“Use mine.”
“But you don’t even have”—
It takes several seconds for me to realize he’s talking about his erection.
I slip my hand behind my back and wrap my fingers around his shaft. “This wand?”
His chest makes a deep rumble that sends sensation across my spine. “Precisely.”
“But how?”
“You must take the power for yourself.”
My brow furrows. “Don’t you need a bit of magic to be able to steal it?”
“It’s in my balls,” he murmurs. “If you wish, I can pump you full of power.”
