Page 37 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Midlife

I bit my lip and looked over my shoulder again. My paranoia was at an all-time high, but I couldn’t help it. The succubus could be anywhere, even on the plane. “He says he was hiding from a succubus who was hunting him. And I’m guessing she framed him, too,” I said in a hushed whisper, despite the secrecy spell.

She leaned toward me, an eager gleam in her eyes. “For what?”

“Murder,” I answered with a grimace. “He’s charged with Lenny’s death and another in 1945.” Though I didn’t know Ric that well, I knew he couldn’t have been a murderer. He was too sexy to be psycho.

“How old is he?” she asked.

“A little over a hundred years.” I held my breath, waiting for her judgment, but she didn’t seem fazed at all. I guess a sixty-year age gap wasn’t such a big deal in the magical world when we lived for centuries.

She scratched the back of her head, her little button nose crinkling. “So he faked his death to hide from a succubus?”

I shrugged, pretending as if our lives weren’t unraveling. “Something like that.”

“This is deep, Luci.” She frowned. “I don’t want to end up like our parents.”

I squeezed her hand as flames of rage raced through my veins. “Neither do I, but I don’t think we have a choice. We need to expose this succubus and destroy her once and for all.”

She arched a thin brow. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“I don’t know yet.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know what to get for dinner.”

She crooked a smile. “Don’t get the fish, or you’ll end up with Colin breath. Now where were we before we got distracted by your love bite?” She tucked her hand beneath her chin and batted her lashes. “How was your date?”

I averted my gaze while toying with the zipper on my jacket, a simple gray hoodie with the logo for the Fiery Dragons, Des’s favorite ruggel team, on the sleeve. “It was fine.”

She whipped out her lipstick wand, crinkling her eyes while aiming her wand at my forehead. “Luciella Lovella, if you don’t spill the beans right now I’m hitting you with a confession spell.”

“Don’t you ever point that wand at my head again.” I slapped her hand away before checking to make sure Des was engrossed in his game. I could hear the music coming from his headphones, so I knew he couldn’t hear us. “Fine,” I said on a heated whisper. “I spent the night with him.” I paused to bite my lip while reminiscing on my magical night in his arms while wishing we were back in his hot tub right now. I heaved a wistful sigh. “And it was ahhh-mazing.”

Her hands flew to her mouth, and she let out an excited squeal like Puffy whenever Ethyl offered him a slice of banana bread, his favorite treat. “Details, details!”

I melted into my seat while remembering every kiss, every touch, every thrust. If sex fueled magic, I’d have enough energyto light up the whole world. “He did things to me I didn’t even know were possible, and his stamina!”

She leaned toward me, that devilish gleam in her eyes. “Did he do the purr?”

I froze like a gnome caught in a trap. “You know about the purr?”

She slanted a smile. “I’ve had a few lion shifters.”

I felt as if I was liquefying from the inside out as I slumped further in my seat. Goddess, what I wouldn’t give to be able to straddle him right now as I recalled the scent of his heady pheromones. “I’d sell my soul to feel that purr again.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sure there’s a few succubi who’d gladly take your soul.”

That was the splash of icy water my libido needed. I shot up, shooting her a glare. “Way to crap all over my happy cloud.”

“I’m sorry, Luci.” She squeezed my hand, a look of understanding flashing in her eyes. “We’re going to free him, you know?”

I swallowed as emotion clogged my throat. “How can you be sure?”

“He’s the last of his kind,” she said. “The Tribunal won’t want his race’s extinction on their conscience, and you know striga hierarchy usually favors mythical creatures.”

True. Mythical creatures were usually favored by the striga elites, and not just because of their rarity, but because of their strong magic. Most of them didn’t even need wands to strengthen their magic. “I hope you’re right.”

“I am. Don’t worry,” she said with a wink, exuding a strange confidence that I hadn’t seen from her before. “We’ll save him.”

Words couldn’t express my gratitude that I wasn’t doing this alone. Her confidence was infectious, for I was suddenly feeling better about our chances. All I had to do was convince a Tribunal of stuck-up witches that they had the wrong killer.

Part Two

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