Broomstick Breakdown Read online

  Broomstick Breakdown

  Copyright © October 2010, Eve Langlais

  Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah © October 2010

  Amira Press, LLC

  Charlotte, NC 28227

  www.amirapress.com

  ISBN: 978-1-936279-50-0

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

  Chapter One

  The magic powering her broom coughed and sputtered. Sophia held on tight as she lost altitude and weaved drunkenly through the night sky.

  “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she muttered aloud. Apparently spelling a broom while frazzled and rushed had unwanted side effects. Like becoming intimately acquainted with the ground. Oops.

  She fought with the roughening antics of her broom, its wooden handle jerking between her hands. As she cursed her bad luck in language not fit for human ears, she spotted the lights of a gas station easily visible in the dark and aimed herself at it for an emergency landing. She also prayed to the Dark Lord—“No road rash. No road rash.” She’d taken weeks to heal the raw patches the last time she’d crashed her broom. A natural broom flyer she was not, and she’d put in a request for the rare and popular Ali Baba book of spells. Somehow carpet flying sounded a lot safer than the traditional witchy method of travel.

  The ground came up to meet her and with one last quick prayer, she used her feet to slow her momentum, stumbling several feet before she came to a halt on the pavement. I didn’t crash. Yay! Sophia swung off her broom and glared at it, the problem easily evident. Most of the bristles had fallen out, along with the magic that imbued them with flight.

  Shoot. Now, how am I supposed to get to the All Hallows’ Eve Convention on time? She was still staring at her only means of transportation in consternation when a man came out of the garage and into the pool of light surrounding the gas pumps where she’d landed. He rubbed his hands on a rag, and the corded muscles of his arms gleamed with sweat even though the air was somewhat cool.

  Any other time, she would have taken the time to admire the way the fabric of his dark T-shirt stretched across an impossibly wide chest and clearly delineated a mountainous amount of muscle. If her concern over being late had not overshadowed all thought, she would have also noticed the way his well-worn jeans clung snugly to his groin and thickly muscled thighs. Oh, who was she kidding, even in the midst of a calamity, she couldn’t help but notice how hot the mechanic was with his tanned skin, ruffled dark hair, and strutting walk. Any other time, she would have enjoyed playing the damsel in distress, a routine that involved the shedding of clothes and inhibitions, but she had an appointment to keep, and while lateness ran in her blood, the senior witches of her coven frowned—with rather unpleasant results—on junior witches who couldn’t show up on time.

  Most people under the glare of fluorescent lights looked sickly. Not this babe, though. Vivid eyes peered at her from under dark brows, and the hunky stranger’s full lips twitched as he gave her the once-over, a look that made her nipples tighten in response and moisture soften her cleft.

  As she cleared her throat and blushed under his frank perusal, she drew her plump self up, all of her five-foot two inches, and in a voice that emerged squeakier than intended said, “Um, hi there.” Although she might be a witch of questionable morals, a witty conversationalist she was not.

  Brilliant white teeth gleamed as he grinned at her, and a deep dimple formed in his left cheek that sent her awakening libido into full sexual crush mode and dampened her panties even further. Damn, pity I can’t bottle him, because I’d make a fortune—after I’d enjoyed him first of course. Her dirty thoughts made her blush even deeper, and she thanked the Dark Lord that the man couldn’t read her mind even if her body seemed unable to stop betraying her.

  “Hello.” His deep voice rumbled pleasantly, and Sophia fought an urge to shiver—and to throw herself at him, begging him to whisper naughty nothings with his sexy voice. She didn’t understand her body’s out-of-proportion reaction to this stud. Sure, he was hotter than molten lava, but since when did her hormones drool and scream at her to maul a stranger on sight? She usually required a drink and dinner first at the very least.

  She ignored how her body tingled and vibrated and got straight to the point. “Do you have a broom I could borrow by any chance?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, and one corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “A broom? Feeling a sudden urge to clean?”

  Sophia blushed again then remembered who she was. A witch, a junior one maybe, but a witch nevertheless, so he, a mere human, shouldn’t mock her. She straightened her spine and tried to adopt a chilly tone and face, not an easy task with her rounded cheeks and full lips. “Yes, I need a broom, if you please.”

  With a look that said ‘Whatever you say, crazy lady,’ he went back into the open garage bay, and she found herself watching the hypnotic and enticing view of his ass in tight jeans as he strode out of sight. Sigh. He really was a nice male specimen. Maybe she’d make a detour on the way back.

  A few moments later, he brought out a monstrosity of a broom, its wooden handle and wide brush head covered in grease and dirt. He held it out to her, and Sophia wrinkled her nose, not making a move to touch the filthy thing. “You know the purpose of a broom for most people is to clean, not create a bigger mess.”

  “This is a garage. We don’t care if it’s clean. We just use it push the crap out of the way.” His tone and expression held a note of impatience, a feeling she found imbuing her as well.

  “Well I can’t use that, that thing. Dammit, are there any stores around here that sell clean brooms?”

  “Sure,” he drawled. “ ’Course they’re all closed at this hour.”

  Frustration almost made steam pour from her ears, and it must have shown in her face, for he dropped his mocking attitude. “Listen, I don’t quite understand why you need a broom at this hour of night, but surely it can wait for morning. Now, why don’t you tell me where you left your car and I’ll walk you back to it.”

  “I don’t have a car. Why the hell do you think I needed a broom?” she grumbled only when she realized that his face had creased in confusion because what she had said made no sense. To a human anyway.

  She crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she nibbled her lower lip in an attempt to think of a solution to still make it to the coven meeting on time. She couldn’t afford to wait ’til morning when the stores opened. She’d started her trip late and would barely make it as it was. Broom flying, while allowing you to avoid obstacles and fly in a direct path, was very tiring and required frequent pit stops—at least she and her poor, aching ass did. Apparently a full bottom didn’t count for much on a stick only a few fingers wide.

  “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  His question and solution to her current dilemma made Sophia mentally slap herself in the forehead, because, of course, she should have thought to ask the hunk if he had a vehicle. It made sense after all, given his occupation. However, she needed more than just a quick drive into town.

  Lifting her chin, she smiled at him. “If you don’t mind, then, yes, I do need a lift.”

  “Okay. Just give me a minute to close up and then you can tell me where to drop you off.”

  How about the next state over? It was a good thing she’d learned the spells of forgetfulness and persuasion, for she’d need both before the next twenty-four hours were done. First to make him take her where she needed, then to forget he’d ever met her.

  He closed up his shop quickly and came strutting toward her dangling a set of keys. He gestured to her wi
th a tilt of his head and walked off to the side of the garage. She followed, once again admiring the view of his ass. She admired it so intently, her mind mentally x-raying the fabric of his jeans and wondering if he wore boxers or briefs, that she almost ran into him when he stopped abruptly. Catching herself, she looked up to see a monstrous truck in front of her. No, seriously, the thing even had a painted fresco with the word Monster emblazoned on its side. The truck sat high, high enough that she’d need a boost to get in, and it screamed, I never grew up. In other words, a total guy toy.

  The mechanic-turned-chauffeur pulled open the passenger door and stood back to allow her to get in. She peered dubiously up at the highly perched seat and wondered if there was a graceful way to climb in. As if sensing her dilemma, he simply grabbed her about the waist and hoisted her into the cab of the truck as if she weighed less than a feather. Sophia squeaked, and he chuckled.

  Before she could say a word, the door slammed shut. A moment later, he clambered into the driver seat and placed the key in the ignition. He turned to her before starting the engine.

  “So where to Miss…” He trailed off enquiringly.

  “Sophia.” Actually it was Sophia-Anne, but she’d shortened her name a long time ago.

  “Nice to meet you, Sophia. I’m Aidan.”

  Sophia shivered at the way he said her name. Damn, her hormones were in overdrive and in the confines of the truck cab, his heated presence and subtle scent—soap and man—intoxicated her, making her mind shy from the question and instead go straight into a fantasy of him dragging her onto his lap and using his mouth for something other than talking.

  “So, where do you want me to drop you?” he repeated.

  She snapped out of her erotic thoughts, hornier than ever, and froze, unsure of an answer, knowing if she told him the truth—I need you to drive with me for about eight hours or so, depending on traffic—he’d just laugh and ditch her, probably at the nearest insane asylum. She did, however, have a trick up her sleeve. A witchy one.

  She’d made sure to learn the spell of persuasion before coming on this trip. The Witchcraft for Dummies book had highly recommended it and a spell of forgetfulness to those starting out in the craft in order to ease their way through a world not yet ready for the concept of witches and magic. At least they no longer had to worry about being burned at the stake, but, then again, being dissected by scientists wasn’t exactly a step up.

  Taking a deep breath, Sophia recited the words to the spell of persuasion and imbued it with her innate power. With a flourish of her hands—and a mental apology for using him—she flung the invisible but magical result at him. Then she crossed her fingers, hoping she’d done it right.

  Chapter Two

  The revelation came when the little hottie who’d arrived out of nowhere with a pitiful-looking broom, spoke in a funny language that tickled his skin, and waved her hands at him.

  She’s a bloody witch.

  Had he not been so busy trying not to ravish her tempting body, he might have recognized the scent she gave off—part ozone swirled with flowers and vanilla. She smelled delicious, temptingly so, and it made him want to dive between her thighs and eat her up, especially since he kept catching tantalizing whiffs of her reciprocated desire. She definitely wasn’t immune to him.

  Even more interesting, his inner furry friend liked her, actually more than liked, he yipped and growled in agitation, trying to tell Aidan something. Actually the word that kept coming to mind was mine. Unusual behavior for his usually behaved animal half whose usual demands were eat, hunt, or fuck. Even odder, something about this scenario tickled his brain. He was sure he’d think of the reason why later.

  But, back to the matter at hand, her broomstick had obviously experienced some type of breakdown, and, even more evident, she needed his assistance getting somewhere. Much more interesting was the fact she didn’t seem to have a clue he was a werewolf, immune to her magic. Which left him with a choice. Did he laugh and tell her the spell she’d attempted had failed or did he play along and see where she led him? If he was lucky, he would end up naked in bed with her in an interspecies sexual tango.

  “Where do you need to go, sweetheart? Your wish is my command.” He took a wild guess as to the purpose of her spell and almost laughed at the look of relief and delight on her face.

  “We need to make it to Covenhouse Inn before tomorrow night. So, we need to get going.”

  His impish side made him want to ask her where the hell this inn was, but he didn’t want her ditching him for another ride, so biting back a grin at her imperially given order, he put the truck in drive. They evidently had a long way to go.

  And lucky for her—and him—he knew of the perfect pit stop on the way to her destination, where they could rest, among other things. His throbbing shaft couldn’t wait.

  * * * *

  Sophia kept sneaking glances over at Aidan. She admired his strong profile while combating the heat that suffused her at his nearness. She still couldn’t believe her spell of persuasion had worked so well. She’d expected more questions from him for, after all, her spell wasn’t one of pure obedience, but he’d meekly followed her command, a heady feeling indeed. It made her wonder what else he’d be amenable to. Her gaze strayed to his crotch and the bulge within.

  A low growl startled her, and she raised her eyes to him, but his gaze remained fixated on the road, and she chewed her lower lip. She must have imagined it, but she thanked the change in direction of her thoughts. Tempting as she found him, to take advantage of his body under these circumstances would be inappropriate, for how could she ensure his response was voluntary and not the spell forcing his will, pleasurable as they both might find it.

  “So, Sophia, where are you traveling from?”

  She debated lying, but without her last name and given the size of the city she lived in, he’d have a difficult time finding her. Besides, once she’d cast the spell of forgetfulness, he’d never even remember meeting her—what a pity. “Niagara, right on the Canadian and U.S. border.”

  “Nice place.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  They exchanged small talk back and forth. She told him she worked as a legal secretary. He shared the fact he was half-owner of the garage with his brother and that tomorrow just happened to be his day off, so there was no problem with him driving her.

  Sophia began to wonder after talking with him for a while if he wouldn’t have driven her even without the spell. Aidan seemed like a genuinely nice guy, one who probably would have extended a helping hand, or in this case a drive, to a lady in need. Too late now, though, with the spell already cast and in effect for around twenty-four hours, or so the manual said.

  They’d only driven for about two hours, chatting like old friends—one whose bones she wanted to jump—when he slowed down and pulled off into a roadside diner.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “I’m starving. Don’t tell me you’re not hungry, too, for the best burger and greasiest home fries in the whole state?”

  Actually, her stomach could use refueling. She hadn’t eaten since the morning. Before she could answer, he got out of the truck. She shrugged and swung the passenger door open, only somewhat surprised to see him already standing in the opening. The man moved incredibly fast.

  He reached up and grabbed her around the waist to swing her down out of the truck. Her breath caught for a second at the effortless way he kept handling her. Not just pretty muscle, apparently he had strength to go with it. When he set her on her feet, she swayed for a moment and she automatically put a hand out to steady herself, touching his chest. She snatched her hand away quickly as if scalded. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin exuded heat, scorchingly so, and her body responded by pouring a liquid languor throughout all her muscles.

  Aidan looked down at her with eyes she could have sworn glowed. He brushed his fingers down her cheek, making her nerve endings tingle rapturously.

  “Let’s go eat.”
He stroked her cheek with his hand, then he dropped it down and laced his fingers around hers, finally tugging her toward the bustling diner. Sophia, still dazed from his touch, stumbled along in a fog. I know what I want to eat, and I bet it’s not on the menu. Regardless of how hot he made her, though, she needed to remind herself he was under a spell, meaning he was off limits no matter how much her body craved him.

  Big trucks with long trailers filled the parking lot. When she entered the restaurant, Sophia became keenly aware of the fact she was the only female client amidst a roomful of men—and more than one turned around for a peek at her. Sophia tucked in closer to Aidan, who released her hand and, as if sensing her trepidation, slung an arm around her waist as he guided her to a table against a wall.

  Sophia slid into one chair while Aidan sat down across from her absently, too busy frowning at the room in general. She wondered why. “Is there something wrong?”

  He turned to face her, his brow furrowed and his mouth set. “I don’t like the way they looked at you.”

  Sophia almost gaped at him. He sounded so…possessive. And she liked it even as she knew she shouldn’t. “It’s probably because I’m the only woman in here other than the waitresses.” Who looked old enough to have birthed most of the men in the restaurant.

  Speaking of whom, a frizzy haired blonde with a pencil stuck in a hairdo that had never graced the cover of any magazine slapped two menus down.

  “Evening, Aidan. What can I get you and your lady?”

  Sophia guessed she shouldn’t be surprised the waitress knew Aidan. He apparently knew the place, and, honestly, who could forget him.

  “We’ll have two of your burger specials, Lena. The usual toppings for mine with a coffee. And the lady will take hers…” He eyed her questioningly.

  “Fully loaded with water, please.”

  Screw calories, she’d given up counting a long time ago. Some women just weren’t meant to be skinny. And she did so enjoy her food.