The Secret Life of a Witch 3 (Mystic Willow Bay, Witches 3)

My lip twitches that he knew exactly where my thoughts were. “Nope. I was actually thinking about how much this place reeks like a sewer. That’s probably because of all the demons lurking around.”

Instead of getting irritated, he smirks. “You and I both know that you think I smell”—he makes air quotes—“ ‘lovely’.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re a little confused about the proper way to use air quotes.”

His smirk never falters. “And why’s that?”

“Because, at some point, I would’ve had to say you smelled lovely, and I can assure you I never have.” Aloud, anyway.

His lips span into a haughty grin. “Are you sure about that?”

“Um, yeah.” I try to convey confidence, but the arrogance in his expression is making me all squirrely.

He reaches forward to lightly tug on a strand of my hair. “You know, you’re quite the little sleep talker. At first, I was a little annoyed, especially when you kept going on and on about that stupid blond, wannabe punk rocker wizard. But when you shifted your focus on me …” He grins. “Well, I found it quite amusing and very insightful.”

My heart thunders in my chest. “I don’t sleep talk.”

“You can’t possibly know that for sure.” He gently tugs on my hair again. “And I assure you, you do. A lot. In fact, you might be even more chatty while you’re asleep.” His gaze drops to my lips. “And those little moaning noises you make are absolutely delicious.”

My cheeks flame, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of rage. “I don’t moan in my sleep, nor do I talk. And even if I did, I’d never, ever talk about you. At least, not in a positive way.”

The stupid grin remains as he grazes his knuckles across my cheekbone with a look of fascination. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

I angle my head away from his hand, despite the shiver his touch elicited. “Don’t touch me.”

“Demons can’t blush, you know,” he continues on, ignoring me. “At least, I’ve never seen one do it. But you, my little rainbow trout, are a complete anomaly. And an adorable one at that.”

“Stop calling me adorable like that,” I gripe while casting a glance at the rest of the demons.

Great, they’re all watching this little scene unfold, looking both annoyed and fascinated.

His brows furrow. “Like what?”

“Like I’m this cute, little sprite or something. It’s unflattering.”

“Sprites aren’t cute,” he assures me. “They’re tasty.”

My eyes pop wide. “You eat sprites?”

He gives a shrug. “I haven’t personally, but a lot of us do.” He points over his shoulder at the rest of the demons. “I don’t know why you’re getting upset after you just said it was unflattering to be compared to a sprite. I mean, clearly you don’t think that highly of them.”

I cross my arms. “Just because I think it’s unflattering to be compared to a creature that thinks the best day ever is giggling for three hours straight while circling a seven-year-old’s head and poking her until she cries, doesn’t mean I think it’s okay to eat them.”

He gives me a suspicious look. “Did this seven-year-old happen to have rainbow trout eyes and a very stubborn personality?”

“I’m not stubborn,” I protest.

He snorts a laugh. “Okay.”

My lip twitches in annoyance. “Just because I don’t fall at your feet after you kidnap me or dive into your arms when you ask me to kiss you, doesn’t make me stubborn. It makes me smart.”

“Fall at my feet, huh?” He rubs his jaw thoughtfully. “No, I’m pretty sure you did do that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He leans in toward me, his smile all shiny and annoyingly attractive. “Yes, you did.”

“Dropping me at your feet doesn’t count.” I refuse to budge, even when he slants closer.

Sure, every instinct in me is screaming to run, that he’s a demon; but with no other place to go, all I can do is stand my ground and pretend to be more badass than I am.

He rolls his eyes. “Why on earth would I ever drop you?”

“Um, because you’re a demon,” I say, like duh. “And that’s what demons do.”

Amusement dances in his eyes. “They drop pretty witches? Huh, I guess I’ll have to add that to the demon handbook, because I’m pretty sure none of us know about that rule. If we did, we might do it more often. And I think, while I’m at it, I’ll add a rule where we have to carry around pretty witches with rainbow eyes around on our shoulders while they sleep and make hot moaning noises, because that was by far my favorite part.” He winks at me.

My heart flutters. Yes, it actually flutters. In my defense, it lasts for only a snap of a finger.

“You’re so annoying.”

He winks at me again. “Don?

??t pretend like you don’t like it.”

“If I were you, I’d get that thing checked out.” I circle my finger in front of his eye. “Because, from what I hear, when a demon’s eye starts to twitch, it means he’s prematurely aging.”

He stares at me, unimpressed. “Demons don’t age, but nice try.”

“Are you sure about that?” I slant forward and squint at his eye. “I’m pretty sure all these lines around your eyes are crow’s feet.”

He really doesn’t have any lines, but demons are vain, and I know my comment will bug the crap out of him. At least, I thought it would. All he does is lean in closer and put his lips beside my ear.

“I know for a fact you don’t think I have crow’s feet. Just like I know for a fact that you think I smell lovely and find me completely and utterly sexy in a way you’re unfamiliar with.” His hand finds my waist, his fingers folding inward. “But I won’t make you admit that.” He pauses. “Yet. Not when I have bigger things to worry about.”

I open my mouth to tell him there’s no chance in demon hell that I find him attractive, but the words are ripped from my lips when he chants a sleep curse.

Heat blasts through me, starting in my chest and working outward, making my limbs go limp.

“You evil troll …” My voice echoes away as I teeter sideways toward the ground. “Why does everyone keep putting me to sleep?”

Instead of hitting the rocky floor, I fall straight into Max’s arms.

Scooping me up, he turns and carries me away from the crack in the wall.

“Where are you taking me?” I mumble through the dizziness sloshing around in my head.

He continues walking with his eyes trained ahead. “To my room.”

“Why?” I murmur sleepily. “What’re you going to do to me?”

He chuckles, a low sound that reverberates throughout my body. “Well, to start with, we’re going to talk.” He holds me tighter against his chest. “Then, after that, we’ll see.”