“No one says stud muffin anymore.” Pandora bit her lip as she thought back. All the magic she’d done that had actually worked had been performed in Cole’s proximity. The candle and the sealing spell. And maybe the summoning spell. He was just a few floors down, after all.

And while the spell hadn’t found any unfinished magic, it had brought Gertrude out of the ether. Whether or not that was actually a positive remained to be seen. “What does it mean that my magic works around him?”

“He’s a familiar. And not just any familiar, he’s yours.” She gave Pandora a naughty wink. “Touching him will awaken feelings in both of you, but to seal the bond and keep him from bonding with any other witch, you need to get a little more intimate. You know what I mean? You need to get—”

“I know what intimate means, so settle down. Let’s go back to what you first said, because I don’t understand all of this. Familiars are like cats and birds and rats. There’s a member of our coven who has a bearded dragon.”

“You could at least kiss him, that’s all I’m saying.” Gertrude hovered close enough that Pandora realized she was wearing false eyelashes. “And yes, familiars are usually animals. Sometimes, they’re people who can shift into animals.”

“Cole’s not a shifter.”

“Ah, but he is. You can see it in his aura.”

“I can’t see auras.”

“Didn’t get that gift, eh? It’s all right. Not many do. But trust me, being a familiar is an essential part of who Cole is. After all, my Ulysses was one.”

Pandora did a quick mental check on all the stories she’d heard about Gertrude and her husband. “I’ve never heard that about you two.”

Gertrude’s drawn-on eyebrows rose abruptly. “So you’ve heard things about me, then?”

“My mother knows—knew you.”

“Who’s she?”

“Corette Williams.”

Gertrude nodded. “I remember her. You ask her about human familiars. You’ll see. They’re rare, and those of us who are fortunate enough to get one, don’t talk about it, because there are less-scrupulous witches out there who’d like to steal them away. Some witches spend their whole lives trying to find one, but human familiars don’t work that way. They find the witch who needs them, not the other way around. And if one finds you, then you are a very lucky witch indeed.”

Pandora’s head was spinning. “But why doesn’t he know he’s one, if that’s what he is?”

Gertrude shot up into the air and hovered several feet above the floor, her gaze shifting over Pandora’s shoulder. “Gotta go!”

“Wait!” Pandora put her hand out, but Gertrude was gone.

Behind her, the attic door opened.

“You okay up here?”

She turned. Cole stood at the landing. Gertrude was right. He really was a stud muffin. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just coming back down.”

“Were you talking to someone?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know where to start.”

He walked over, his gaze on the book in her hand. “Please tell me that book wasn’t on the floor when you came up here.”

“No. Why?”

“It kept falling off the shelf earlier.”

Pandora nodded. More like it kept getting pushed off the shelf by a crazy old woman with drawn-on eyebrows and a penchant for glitter. “I think I know what’s going on with you, but you’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t like it now. Tell me your thoughts. I’ll be as open-minded as I can be.”

Gertrude’s words rang in Pandora’s brain. “This is going to sound crazy, but you might be something called a familiar.”

“Familiar with what?”

“No, a familiar. A witch’s companion.”

His expression didn’t change for a moment, then he started laughing. “Okay, you got me. Good one.”

“No, I’m serious.” She held out the book to him. “You should read this.”

He held his hands up. “Pandora, c’mon. That’s so bananas I don’t even know where to start. Certainly not with that dusty old book.”

Reluctantly, she put the book back on the shelf. “You said you’d be open-minded.”

“Yes, but a witch’s companion? As in your companion? Is this your way of trying to get me to believe? It’s cute, I’ll give you that.”

Kiss him, a voice whispered in her ear.

So she did.

Cole registered Pandora getting closer, her eyes closing, her lips puckering. He knew on some level what all those things meant. And yet he was still surprised when her mouth made contact with his.

Not so surprised he couldn’t react. His growing desire to be near her, to touch her and hold her, spiked into incalculable territory. His arms slipped around her of their own volition. She was as warm and soft and curvy as she looked. Maybe more.

Her lips fit his perfectly, and as her tongue brushed the seam of his mouth, he groaned in pleasure, unable to hold back the sheer joy of tasting her. Kissing Pandora was torture in the most amazing way.

She kissed with the kind of tentative pressure that made him realize she had no idea how he felt about her. And why would she? He’d been a jerk.

Then, maybe because she’d figured out he wasn’t resisting, she leaned in and really kissed him.