A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch (Glimmer Falls, #2)

The sound of trickling water grew louder. They reached a small stream tumbling down the slope. The terrain was still uneven, but Calladia made a triumphant sound and pointed. “There we go.”

Downstream, the water curved around a boulder. On the opposite bank was a shelf of rock, and beyond that a narrow patch of earth before the trees crowded in. Calladia led the way, picking over rocks and fallen wood, and Astaroth followed. Curious about the potential for a bath, he dipped a finger in the water, then shuddered. He would not be washing in that.

“Do you know any bathing spells?” he asked. “The water’s bloody freezing.”

She laughed. “Not really, but I do know spells to make you smell better. Do you want to smell like roses or lilies?”

Astaroth considered. “Lilies, if I must.”

“Wow, I was sure you were going to ask me to make you smell like sandalwood and leather or something.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not really sure what sandalwood smells like, to be honest.”

“It’s a nice scent, if cliché.” Somewhere along the line, romantic literature had informed men they could smell like a few oddly specific things: sandalwood, pine, leather, and musk. What kind of musk? Who could say. Since some perfumers expressed beaver anal glands to produce castoreum as a tincture, he suspected most people would rather not know the particulars.

“Someday I will find a subject you don’t have a hoity-toity opinion on,” Calladia said, shaking her head.

They reached the curve in the stream where the water shallowed by the rock ledge. The stone was cool, though it held a modicum of heat from the setting sun. Not enough to please a demon, but true heat was hard to come by this time of year.

They set up the tent in the strip of earth beside the ledge. It was a decent spot, and the overhanging branches provided a barrier in case of rain.

Once everything was set up and their packs tucked away, Calladia stretched. “I’m hoping we can find a hot spring nearby.” She undid the knots in the yarn and tied more. “Tarqui en pinnisen.” Moments later, the dowsing rod zoomed into view, coming to a quivering stop in front of her. Calladia wound the cord around her wrist and palm. “Pinnisibsen a chauvodasi.”

The stick started gliding into the woods.

Calladia grabbed towels from her pack. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get warm.”



* * *





The hot spring was small, tucked away at the base of a hill formed from an old rockslide. Wafts of steam rose toward the sky, which had darkened to a dusky purple spattered with stars.

Calladia cast another spell, and two floating yellow orbs sparked to life, casting a gentle glow over the scene. The pool was cloudy turquoise ringed by orange mineral buildup, and flowers bloomed around it in a riot of color. The blossom-tinged air had a faintly sulfurous edge, though Astaroth’s nose acclimated within a few breaths.

“Isn’t it late in the season for flowers?” he asked, leaning down to touch the purple petals of a night-blooming orchid. Its stamen gleamed as silvery white as the stars above.

“There’s magic in these mountains,” Calladia said. “It’s most concentrated in Glimmer Falls and the area immediately around it, but the ley lines extend all over the place. Hot springs tend to pop up over those ley lines, and the magic and heat keep the foliage blooming year-round.” She gave him a crooked smile. “Mariel explained that to me. She can feel the magic in the earth in a way I can’t.”

Mariel’s name hovered in the air between them, an invisible reminder of the conflict holding them apart. Astaroth didn’t feel like reliving whatever he’d done to Mariel, but instinctively, he knew she was the key to breaking down the remaining antipathy between him and Calladia. “Tell me about her,” he said.

Calladia looked surprised. “What do you want to know?”

Astaroth bent to unlace his shoes. “What’s she like? How did you become friends?” He toed off his shoes and socks, then stripped off his jacket and shirt.

Calladia was staring at his chest. When he cleared his throat, she shook her head and turned away. “She’s funny,” Calladia said as she started unbuttoning her own top. “Her brain jumps all over the place, and she asks the weirdest questions. And she’s kind. Like, freakishly so. She bakes muffins for the neighbors, goes out of her way to rescue lost people or animals, and will drop everything to help a friend out.”

Great. Astaroth had not only harmed Calladia’s friend; he’d harmed a muffin-baking philanthropist. “You said she can feel the magic in the earth,” he said, shoving his trousers down. He considered stripping off his undergarments, then decided against it for the moment. “She must be very powerful.”

“You still can’t have her soul,” Calladia snapped.

Hurt arrowed through Astaroth’s chest. “That’s not why I’m asking.”

“Then why are you asking?” Calladia asked, planting her hands on her hips. She looked suspicious, which was the exact opposite of what he’d hoped to accomplish.

Astaroth scrambled to defuse her temper. “Because she matters to you, and I want to know everything about you.”

Calladia’s lips parted, and suspicion turned to surprise.

Astaroth shifted, feeling awkward. That had been too much to reveal. If she suspected the depth of his obsession with her, she’d probably be disgusted.

“Well,” Calladia said. “That’s . . .”

“So,” he blurted. “Tell me more. If you want, of course.” He hurried to the edge of the hot spring and sat on the edge, dunking his feet in the water. Oh, that was nice. He slid into the pool, gripping the edge until his feet found purchase. The water came up to mid-chest, and it was rapidly warming him up to a decent temperature. He’d been chilled for days, his physiology struggling in the colder human realm.

Calladia continued stripping, a process Astaroth watched avidly. Unfortunately, she stopped with bra and underwear still on, but the view was still divine. Her thighs were thick with muscle, her calves sharply defined, and the curves of her hips and breasts were subtle but elegant. Her body was a finely honed weapon, and Astaroth would gladly be her victim.

“You’re ogling me,” she said as she approached the pool.

“I am,” he readily agreed. Her underwear looked to be plain gray cotton, and he wanted to get his mouth on her until the fabric darkened with her arousal. Then he’d pull them aside, licking all over her slick skin before sucking her clit.

Below the water, his cock began to stiffen.

She shook her head as she lowered herself to the edge of the pool. “Shameless.” She dipped her toes in and hissed.

Astaroth ducked under and came back up, then made a show of shaking out his hair, sending drops flying.

Calladia shrieked, shielding her face, then started laughing. “Bad demon! We aren’t all blessed with your tolerance for heat.”

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