An American Witch In Paris. Michele Hauf
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Tuesday did feel a shiver of caution, and the touch of someone’s fingers from behind, sliding across her ass, made her jump. Right against Ethan’s arm, which slid across her shoulder and directed her back toward the stairs.
“We’re leaving,” he said more to her than the randy demons. “But before we do...” He cocked a look over his shoulder at the silver-toothed leader. “Any of you familiar with Gazariel?”
“He means The Beautiful One,” Tuesday quickly amended. It was not cool to call demons by their names, especially around others.
“Get that witch out of here,” Silver Tooth said.
“But the demon I’m looking for—” Ethan began.
“No pretty demons in this club, vampire. And if you don’t take your pet witch and leave we’ll make sure no one ever calls her pretty, either.”
Ethan clasped Tuesday’s hand and led her down the stairs. The couple was still making out. Blood beaded in various spots on the man’s chest and neck. Ethan quickened their pace.
When they landed on the main floor, he directed her toward a wall, where a private moment could be found behind it, as it was set off from the frenzy of dancers.
“I had no idea that was a demons-only area,” she said. “But you don’t score points for rescuing me. I was fine.”
“I know that. But no funny stuff, remember? And I like to take care of my assets. Make sure they survive the length of the job.”
“I’m an asset to you? I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. I’m guessing not especially good.”
“You are valuable. What’s so bad about that?”
“My value, as determined by what I can do for you, is a very bad thing. Any man who tries to put a—” she made air quotes “—‘value’ on a woman is not a man at all.”
Feminism was her right, and she would never stop to point out the patriarchy’s misguided beliefs and lacking empathy for those who were their equals. She strode off toward the front hallway, where they had entered. “He’s not here. Let’s blow this joint.”
Once outside on the street, she walked swiftly away from the nondescript doors, but abruptly hit an invisible wall and couldn’t press onward. Curse that vampire! She cast a glance over her shoulder. Ethan stood a good distance away, unmoving, giving her a sly wave.
“Such a Richard,” she muttered. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
“I’m going this way.” He pointed over his shoulder, then turned and walked off.
And the pull of the binding dragged Tuesday along after him.
* * *
“It was a stupid thing to do anyway,” Tuesday muttered as she followed Ethan down the quiet, dark Parisian street toward wherever he was headed. She hadn’t a choice in the matter. “Going to that club? Why would The Beautiful One hang out at that depressing place? Do you even know who you’re after? That demon likes to shine. To see and be seen. He’s vain and all about pleasure and self-gratification. He thrives on attention. Adoration. Love. He’s not for darkness and murk. That’s why he pawned off his curse on me.”
Ethan cast a glance over his shoulder at her, then resumed his pace.
“What kind of sorry adventuring detective vampire are you?” she called. “Don’t you know how to do this stuff? I mean, let’s go to the least likely place the dude is going to be and feed the witch to the demons, why don’t we?”
She smirked to think about getting hit on by those nasty demons. The one with the silver teeth had to have doused himself in body spray for the young and bepimpled. Ugh. And then Ethan had felt the need to intervene. Like some kind of rescuing hero? She could have taken care of herself. But how often did a man step in to try and help her? So rarely, she couldn’t think back that far.
“I’m hungry!” she announced in frustration. “That pizza was terrible. Who sells pizza slices out of a freezer? That’s like 7-Eleven stuff. So wrong. I thought Paris was classier? Let’s get something to eat. Do you have to walk so fast? It’s not as if we’re going to find the demon now. I’d guess he’s more of a day kind of demon. All the better to allow others to admire his beaming gorgeousness. Are you even listening to me, Pierce? Bueller?”
With that, the vampire swung round, marched up to her, bracketed her face with his hands and...
...kissed her.
For no reason. And with no grace. He planted a firm, seconds-long kiss on her mouth. And for those few seconds Tuesday’s heart thundered and a tickle-thrill shimmied up the back of her neck. She didn’t mind the kiss. In fact, it proved a scintillating connection. The vibrations between them shivered haphazardly, but then quickly started to harmonize. To actually blend—as if they were meant to come together. How weird was that?
But the kiss ended as quickly as it had landed on her mouth. And she hadn’t time to determine why it had felt so right.
Ethan stepped back, hands splaying outward. With a sexy wink, he then said, “I knew that would work.”
Tuesday touched her lips, stunned that he’d taken her by surprise, but even more stunned that she wasn’t upset about the attack kiss.
“I figured a kiss would get you to shut up,” he said. Turning, he marched onward.
Really? He’d employed the kiss to make her stop talking? Of all the nerve! She was not one of his victims he could subdue with persuasion or a plunge of fang into vein. And so what if she had been talking? It wasn’t as if he’d shown an eagerness to converse with her. She was alone in a strange, foreign city, being led around by a bossy vampire who held her captive with a magical bond. Damn right she was going to chatter away nervously when the mood struck!
On the other hand, she wasn’t about to let some cocky vampire feel he had gotten the upper hand with her.
Tuesday raced up behind Ethan. “You want to use kisses as weapons?” She shoved him and he spun to face her with a questioning gape. “One thing you need to know about me—I’m always cocked and loaded.”
Grabbing his coat lapel, she pulled him in and planted a kiss on his mouth. This one was as unwarranted and desperately seeking as his had been. The man stumbled backward and his shoulders hit a brick wall, and it gave her the opportunity to move in and deepen the kiss.
His hand caught at the base of her spine under her coat, and he pressed her closer to his hard abs and hugged hip-to-hip. And Tuesday forgot that she was angry and let the lust and want rise and play out.
The man’s mouth was incredible. His lips were warm and firm, and when their tongues danced she couldn’t imagine doing such a tango with anyone else. And she had tangoed with many in her lifetime. Cinnamon mingled with his clean taste, brewing a cocktail more heady than any weird concoction served in a demonic dance club.
But she was kissing him to make a point. And she’d hate to let him think she actually wanted this kiss. She did not. Mostly. Yes, she did!
But that was not how she intended to play her hand.
Shoving away from him, Tuesday swept her hair over her shoulder and assumed a cocky stance. “I won that one, vampire.”
If a smirk could get any sexier, she didn’t know. A few fine wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes, and she even noticed glints of gray strands silvering the hair at his temples. So sexy. Urm, in a completely uninteresting way, of course.
“Sounds fine by me,” Ethan said. “You can have the win, partner.”
“Right. Partner.” She wrinkled her nose at that one. She had suggested they could be partners, hadn’t she? “About that food?”
“Just up the street, there’s a cheesy little bar that might still be open. It’s owned by a couple