She’d started to worry when she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him for over a month.
Then the email that started her new nightmare had arrived.
Dee,
Thought you might like to know that my Emo phase is over. Thank God, right? It’s got to be some kind of miracle. I wish we could go out and dance to celebrate, like old times, but I’ll be traveling for a while. Where I’m going, they probably won’t have cell service, so I won’t be able to keep our weekly phone date for the foreseeable future.
Don’t hate me.
You are, without a doubt, the best friend a guy could have. You didn’t have to stand by me all these years when I was being such an ass, but you did. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.
When I can tell you more, I will. I promise. For now, just know that I finally believe in magic. After what I’ve experienced with my new husband, it has to be real.
(Yes, I said husband. Don’t pass out).
In other news, I’m letting a friend of said-husband and mine stay at the condo. He’s unusual, so he should fit right in. His name is Z, and he’s absolutely gorgeous and brilliant and…just be good and don’t give him too much grief, okay?
I hope I’ll be able to talk to you soon,
Kansas
Husband had been the first thing she’d had to wrap her head around. He hadn’t even told her he’d been dating again! But what struck her the most was that his short, vague email sounded like a goodbye. Was his new husband part of a farmer’s cult? One that didn’t believe in technology? Why couldn’t he stay in touch with her?
What the hell was going on?
She’d called Kansas’ Uncle Frayne to find that he’d gotten a similar email. He wasn’t worried though. He assured her that Kansas wouldn’t be able to stay away from them for long. “Probably just on his honeymoon,” he’d chuckled.
As for the Lothario that had moved in before she’d even closed her email? The second she’d seen him she’d recognized him and known exactly what he was. It had made her even more concerned about her best friend’s fate.
What was Kansas doing hanging out with wizards?
Z. She’d seen him in her dreams for weeks before he’d shown up. The golden man with a silver tongue. Her Aunt Glin had always said she would know when a particularly dangerous sorcerer was nearby. That it was part of her gift.
She’d been right about that. It felt like static under her skin. A strange tug in her stomach.
A voice in her head.
Witches and wizards were natural enemies. Like tricksters, a wizard would use subterfuge, seduction and anything else at his disposal to drain a witch’s power. Their favorite trick, she’d been told, was pretending to be in love with their target.
Her aunt had taught her how to shield her magic and her thoughts from an early age. If they couldn’t find her, she assured the young Dorothy, she might be safe.
“But if one ever does,” Aunt Glin had warned. “Get away as fast and far as you can. Don’t succumb. No magic exists that can protect you from a broken heart.”
Pouring her cocoa into a large mug, she wandered around her dark upstairs living room. She was at the window before she’d asked her feet to take her there, and she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t to look across the courtyard to the condo on the other side. The light turned on instantly, as if he’d been waiting for her to arrive. Bastard.
Three beautiful, naked bodies walked toward the kitchen, a journey Dorothy followed through the wide bay windows that lined the living room. The woman had silky, short brown curls and an athlete’s body. A young giant of a man followed close behind. She laughed coyly and jumped out of reach when his hands reached out to caress the tempting skin in front of him.
And then there was Z.
What was that about anyway? What kind of guy had an initial for a name? Did he think it made him sound mysterious instead of pretentious? Did he do it knowing people would stay up at night wondering what it stood for? Zeke? Zachary? Zed? Zazu?
Not that she’d given it much thought at all.
She held her breath when he paused by the window, offering her a long, drool-worthy glimpse of his bare, golden body. Good Goddess, it never got old.
She’d seen him in all his impossibly perfect glory so many times that she should have gotten used to it by now. But she was still riveted to those smooth, lickable pecs, his rippling abs and that…well, it had to be around ten inches of thick, hard masculine pride hanging between his muscular thighs.
Danger. It’s a trap. Don’t give in.