Layla glanced around nervously. She’d been hoping to avoid this. She’d always been an outsider growing up and hadn’t had any friends until recently. Still, her Coven was hardly typical, and she really didn’t want to embarrass herself by being the last one left without a partner on her first day.

A girl with curly brown hair caught her eye. Layla smiled tentatively. Everyone else was scurrying to find a partner for their first project of the semester, a water color portrait.

The girl edged over. “Hi. I’m Megan. Do you want to partner with me?”

“I’d love to!” Layla sighed in relief as she moved over for Megan to sit next to her. She had a lot of ideas, but she was nervous to voice them. She’d gained a lot of self-confidence in the last six months, but being in a new place with new people was bringing back all her old insecurities.

Fortunately, Megan didn’t seem to require her to talk. She started expounding on her ideas at top speed. Layla listened and doodled on her notepad. After a few minutes, she even spoke up with some of her own ideas. Surprisingly, Megan was nice and easy to work with. Soon, they both had a page of notes and were ready to get started.

The bell rang, taking Layla off guard. It felt like the class had just started. She followed everyone out, still deep in discussion with Megan about their portrait project.

“We should meet up sometime this week to work on it. You free for lunch on Wednesday?” Megan brushed her hair out of her eyes as she walked, still clutching her notebook with their ideas.

“Yes, definitely. I’ll start working on the initial sketch tonight, and we can compare when we meet.”

They said goodbye at the cafeteria and Layla grinned at nothing. Unless she was much mistaken, she’d just made a new friend.

Her pace quickened as she made for the parking lot. It had only been a couple of hours since she’d seen Hunter, but it felt like forever. She scanned the full lot and didn’t have to look for long. Hunter was leaning against his motorcycle, his black hair and dark eyes framing his chiseled face above a body that any girl would swoon over.

Layla almost skipped toward him and flung her arms around his neck. Hunter kissed her long and deeply, ignoring the stares they were getting from other students.

“How was your day?” he murmured.

“Much better now that you’re here.”

He pulled away and came up with a helmet, putting it gently on her head.

“I still don’t see why I have to wear one of these and you don’t,” Layla grouched.

“Because you’re only half demon, which means only half as tough as I am.”

“We’ll see who’s tough,” she muttered, poking him in the ribs, trying to hide her smile. The fact was that she loved how concerned he was for her safety. It had taken a solid month for her to persuade him to let her ride his bike with him, which was especially ridiculous considering at the time he’d only had his license for a month, while she’d had hers for several. She had to admit, though, he was a good driver, both in her car and on his bike. He claimed it was his superior demon reflexes.

She swung on behind him, sitting as close to him as she could get and wrapping her arms around his waist. She let out a sigh as she leaned her head against his back. She loved him so much and was constantly amazed that he felt the same way about her.

The ride back was invigorating. She’d remembered to tie her hair back this time. The last time she’d forgotten, her long brown waves had turned into nightmarish tangled ropes. Hunter had had to persuade her not to chop it off in her frustration and had accordingly spent hours helping her untangle it.

Hunter sped up once they were out of the city. Layla closed her eyes against the roar of the wind as the made their way home.

Cord was lounging in the yard when they got back. Layla knew he wanted to spend time with Hunter before he left again. While Hunter had picked up carpentry as a job, Cord now worked on a fishing boat that went away for months at a time. Layla had been surprised by this, but Hunter told her that Cord’s family was mostly sailors, and he missed it.

She felt a little bad monopolizing Hunter’s attention, but he assured her he’d rather spend time with her. He and Cord would have more time to hang out now that college had started for her. Hunter merely waved before putting an arm around her waist and pulling her to the small cabin they shared behind the main house where Cord lived with Phoenix and Fisher.

She could just hear music playing from what she knew was Phoenix’s room. He’d taken to human culture like none of the other demons had. He loved it here. She giggled as the sound of the Spice Girls floated through the window.

Lizeth had had such a strong fit of the giggles when she’d first heard Phoenix rhapsodize about his favorite singers – mostly the Spice Girls and Taylor Swift – that she’d had to duck out of the room. No one had told Phoenix what was so funny, but seeing a hulking, intimidating demon who could probably crush you with one hand singing along to “Love Story” was quite something.

Layla smiled as they entered the cabin. She’d spent a lot of time decorating their cabin, making it a pretty and cozy home. She’d painted the curtains herself with blue and purple swirls. Hunter had insisted on putting every one of her drawings up on the walls, even going so far as framing them.

She’d had to hide some of the ones she didn’t want displayed; once Hunter saw them, he’d insist that they go up with the rest and wouldn’t hear a word to the contrary.

The small pots of flowers she tended to were on the windowsill. Apart from being decorations, certain plants were used in spells, and having a stock of them proved handy. She put her bag down and turned to the kitchen, intending to make tea, but Hunter had other ideas. He took her hand and pulled her to the couch, an irresistible invitation.

She lay back against his chest and let him untie her hair.

“Tell me everything,” Hunter demanded.

Layla didn’t need any more coaxing than that. She launched into a detailed description of her first day, entailing everything from the tour of campus to the cafeteria food to her classes and the people in them.

“I think I made a friend, Hunter! Isn’t that amazing? On my first day!”

“Hardly. You’re amazing. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?”

Layla reflected that maybe now that she was slowly gaining some confidence in herself, she was more open to making friends, more open to believing she deserved them.

She told Hunter all about her assignments, which lecturers were good and which were dull, and who she sat next to in each class.

“Sounds like a good first day,” he commented when she’d finally talked herself out.

“It was incredible! I always thought I’d be in my thirties before I could afford college, and then I’d never fit in. Almost everyone is just like me, coming straight from school.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say they’re just like you.”

“I suppose they’re probably not half witches,” Layla conceded with a grin. Speaking of witches, she checked her phone. As she’d expected, she had a message from her best friend, Sophie, who was also the high priestess of her Coven.

“Sophie wants to know all about my day.”

“Sophie will have you later this evening. Right now, I’m keeping you all to myself.”

Hunter plucked the phone out of her hand and tossed it lightly onto a chair.

“What about you? How’s your day been?”

“Funny you should ask. I have something to show you.”

Hunter pulled her up and led her toward the kitchen. The door was closed, unusually so, and Layla realized that he might have had double motives for keeping her out of there.

He opened the door to reveal a very different room to the one she remembered.

“Hunter, it’s beautiful! When did you do it?” Layla examined the wooden table and four chairs. They were beautifully made, with rounded edges and a rich, dark wood that had twisting veins through it.

“I’ve been working on and off between projects for clients. I know how you hated that old table. Phoenix has been eyeing it; it’s going to be his new desk.”

Layla sat down in one of the chairs. Each had a different colored cushion attached to the seat. Hunter pulled out a plain white, unadorned tablecloth.

“I thought you might want to paint this.”

“You know me so well,” Layla squealed, grabbing the cloth, already envisioning what she’d paint. For most of her life, she’d drawn and written stories. Only recently, after Hunter had persuaded her to share his sizeable bank account, had she had money for expensive canvases, oil paints, and acrylics.

She found she loved painting just as much as drawing and had taken two courses on it in her arts degree. Already she was itching to try out some of the techniques she’d learned in one of her classes.

Hunter put on the kettle as Layla ran her hands over the table, admiring Hunter’s work.

“What about your other clients? How’s that cabinet for Mrs. Harriet going?”

“I’ve done the frame, and I’m working on the drawers now. I think I need to get some new tools, the ones I’ve got aren’t quite right for this kind of project.”

He entered a rather technical explanation involving wood grains and the names of tools Layla didn’t recognize. Layla found herself gazing at him as he talked, admiring how well he’d come to fit into the human world in just six months. Sometimes she felt he was more at home here than she was, and she’d grown up here. Growing up in the underworld, Hunter had had a lot to learn when he’d first come to Earth.

It had been rough at first, what with rogue witch killers wandering around and Sophie being opposed to a relationship between the two of them. Opposed was putting it lightly. She’d tried to kill Hunter when she’d found out.

Layla smiled at the thought of how far Sophie and the others had come. When she’d told the Coven that they either accept Hunter or kick her out, they’d chosen to try to look past several lifetimes of prejudices. Sophie wouldn’t admit it, but Layla knew that she’d actually grown to like Hunter.

“Do you need anything? I’ll probably go to town tomorrow to look at some of the hardware stores. I can get you some more paints for the tablecloth?”

Layla grimaced. “You don’t need to buy me paints. You’re already paying for my college…”

Hunter rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming, but Layla continued anyway.

“Thank you so much for that. I know I’ve said it before, but you really didn’t need to. I would have saved up enough to pay for it myself eventually.”

“Layla, we’ve been through this,” Hunter said sternly, cutting her off. “I’m your mate. What’s mine is yours. Would it make you feel better if we got a joint bank account?”

Layla shook her head. “No, I already use that card you gave me too much. I’m working on getting more clients for my spells. Soon I’ll be able to contribute more.”

Hunter sighed, looking both affectionate and exasperated. “Do I need to run numbers with you again? I don’t think you get how truly easy it is for demons. One month’s salary from the underworld translates to a fortune that would last a lifetime up here, and I worked many jobs before I came here.”

“I guess we know why gold is rare; it’s all in the underworld, being used as demon currency.”

“Exactly. Now, do I need to get those bank statements in here?”

“No,” Layla said quickly. Those bank statements had been scary. Growing up with very little money, it was a little overwhelming being presented with the codes to Hunter’s sizeable bank account. He’d basically shoved the credit card into her hand.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?”

“I guess not.” Layla was going to contribute more when she could, no matter what he said.

Hunter handed her a cup of tea, made exactly the way she liked it. Layla sipped at it while Hunter told her some more about his current projects. He was working with a clockmaker to repair an old grandfather clock and had a rather boring project that involved repairing a sundeck.

Hunter absently played with her hair as he talked, and Layla closed her eyes, enjoying it. Hunter trailed off, and she opened her eyes to see him giving her a heated look. She knew that look and reached for him.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss. Hunter grabbed her waist and pulled her over onto his chair so that she was sitting on his lap. Layla moaned against his mouth. No matter how many times she touched Hunter, she didn’t think she’d ever get enough.

She was barely aware of Hunter standing, his arms wrapped securely around her, lifting her with him. She curled her legs around his waist, though he didn’t need any help holding her up. The next thing she knew, Layla felt a soft flump as she was laid back on the bed.

She tugged at Hunter’s clothes, eager to feel his skin on hers. His kisses moved down her body, leaving her breathless and wanting. He always knew just how to touch her to make her lose control, and she loved every second of it.

The clothes hit the floor in a pile a million miles away. Hunter’s skin was hot against hers, and his dark eyes seemed to pierce her soul. The rest of the world disappeared, leaving only Hunter’s arms around her. There was nowhere Layla would rather be.