Beatrix

I watched as slow horror dawned on him.

I’d been the one to turn him into a prick. Carpathia had said he was a good warlock, not at all a prick. At least, not in a bad way.

“I’m so sorry.” But fuck, how did one apologize for turning a guy into a porcupine?

Especially a hot guy.

And Peter Johnson, despite his name, was so hot. Hotter than the ends of my hair that had been on fire for the last three days. Goddess, and I probably smelled like burning hair. Puke. Not that he’d even look at me after what I’d done to him.

I just couldn’t catch a break.

Thanks, Nightshade Primarosa. Some fairy godmother you were. I couldn’t bespell myself out of a wet paper bag, but I could sure hex someone into one.

“What did I ever do to you?” Peter asked me.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He nodded slowly. “Nothing.” His voice dropped an octave. “So, would you care to tell me WHY THE HELL YOU CURSED ME?”

I bit my lip. There was something seriously wrong with me. More than just how all my magic went wrong. I actually liked the way his vein was pulsing in the middle of his forehead. It turned me on.

Yeah, I was so screwed up.

“I wish I knew.”

“You know,” he growled, stepping toward me. “This would be a much less sour pill to swallow if I’d wronged you. Or even Carpathia. But if I hadn’t found someone to love me, I’d have been stuck as a porcupine familiar forever.”

“Carpathia said it would be okay. She said your witch wouldn’t be able to help but love you.”

“Carpathia knew?” He took another step toward me.

“She had an idea.” My mouth had gone dry. He was so close. I probably wasn’t supposed to be turned on.

“So how are you going to make reparations?”

I licked my lips. “What do you want?”

I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t suppose that could actually be considered making reparations. I mean, reparations weren’t supposed to be enjoyable, right?

He ran his hand through his cartoonishly Prince Charming hair. “Damn, I hadn’t gotten that far. I was so pissed at being cursed… what makes up for taking away years of my life?”

“Shit,” I squeaked. “I guess a blowjob doesn’t quite cut it, does it?”

He spluttered. “Excuse me? I don’t believe I ever suggested—”

I wasn’t sure if I was blushing or if my face had actually caught fire. It was probably on fire. “No, you didn’t, but it would be a start.”

“I’m not that kind of warlock,” he said.

But his eyes had dilated, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one feeling the fires of attraction. Of course, it was possible, I was just feeling my hair on fire.

“What kind of warlock? The kind that likes blowjobs?”

“Listen, you wicked little witch. I mean, no offense, but after you cursed me, why would you think I’d want you anywhere near my warlock bits?”

“Oh.” I nodded. “I see. That makes sense.” Too bad for me. I wanted to see what he had going on under there. I’d heard about Peter Johnson. His fairy godmother had gifted him mightily, or so I’d heard. Carpathia had nothing but good things to say about him.

And his Peter.

Johnson.

I snickered to myself.

But I really shouldn’t have been laughing. I’d done an awful thing. It had been accident, but still an awful thing. I could’ve gotten in big trouble. I still could.

“Look, whatever you want, okay? I’ll do it. I really do feel terribly bad.”

“Then why, pray tell, are you laughing?”

“Because seriously? It’s laugh or cry. You know how you’ve gotten jokes about your name for your whole life? I’ve gotten teased about my magic and all the ways it goes wrong.”

He sighed and with a wave of his hand fixed the hole I’d blasted in the door. His magic was so powerful. That made my knees weak, too. Here was a warlock who could withstand me.

Too bad he didn’t want anything I had to offer. Not that I blamed him.

“Why don’t you tell me about it? Maybe I can help you.”

His tone didn’t sound like he really wanted to help, but who could blame him? I mean, I wouldn’t want to help me if I’d turned me into a… well, you get the point.

“Probably not, but you’re a gentleman for asking.”

He motioned. “Come on. Just tell me.”

“Well, see, it all started with fairy godmother. She didn’t much want to be a fairy godmother and didn’t want to be bothered. So she cursed me the day I was born to get everything I wanted.”

“Yeah, I can see how that would be bad.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

“Everything,” I reiterated. “Only not the way I ask it. There’s always some twist. You know like the story of the Monkey’s Paw?”

“So what did you want that turned me into a porcupine?”

“She was dating Andre Nox, okay?”

“What does that smarmy womb ferret have to do with me?”

“Nothing, really. Except I cursed Andre.” I bit my lip. “Or, I thought I was cursing him. I should’ve known better. I said that the warlock Carpathia loved instead of calling him by name.” I held up my hand. “But to be fair, she was crying. Okay? I mean…”

“Carpathia was crying?” He narrowed his eyes and looked at me like I was a new kind of bug he’d never seen before.

Which was probably close to true.

Carpathia wasn’t the kind of witch who cried. About anything. You could probably chop off a limb and she’d open the gates to a hell dimension. Not cry.

“I mean, you see I had to do something.” Really, what else was I going to do?

He nodded. “I understand. I’d have acted, too. I don’t want to live in a world where Carpathia Cromwell cries over a warlock. I see it had to be fixed. But if this is the case, that means she loves me.”

“Yeah. There’s that.” I bit my lip again and his gaze centered on my mouth.

Oh, so he wasn’t immune.

Goddess, don’t think about wanting him. Don’t. Do. It. This can only go poorly. You know how this turns out.

I couldn’t help it. I wanted that warlock to pin me against the wall and bang me like a screen door in a hurricane.

“I don’t think she’s pining for you or anything.”

He breathed a visible sigh of relief.

“But she does love you. Like a friendship kind of love. Which was totally my bad in the verbiage of the curse.” Yeah. Goddess, why was I such a fuck up?

He sighed. “Did you at least hit Nox with it, too?”

The hopeful feeling that had started to bloom quietly in my chest shriveled on itself. “No. It’s what made her realize she didn’t actually love him. Not even a little. It was more her pride than anything.”

“Well, lovely for her. But I was a fucking porcupine.”

“I hear you helped a witch become an angel! How cool is that? That has to have earned you some great karma.” That probably wasn’t the most helpful thing I could’ve said.

“Yes, it earned me a blowjob from a witch whose hair is still on fire and… what else?” He eyed me.

My shoulders slumped. “You don’t even want the blowjob.”

“Well, maybe I was a little hasty. I mean, sex is like pizza, right? Even if it’s bad, it’s still pizza.”

“You think it’s going to be bad?”

“Let’s look at this objectively. Your hair is literally still on fire.”

“I thought you were going to help me with that?”

“I can try. I don’t know if we’ll get anywhere. Let’s see that book of hexes.”

“Really?” After what I’d done to him, he actually wanted to help me? “If you wanted to curse me, I’d totally deserve it.”

“It’s not your fault, Beatrix. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to be mad. I mean, I’d met a girl and she wasn’t into me after she found out I wasn’t really a porcupine—”

“How did you know my name?” That was a dumb question. I was the worst witch ever. Of course, he knew who I was. “I’m infamous, aren’t I?”

“Celine told me Carpathia had a roommate named Beatrix and that you were a bit of a disaster. She wasn’t mean about it.”

“No, she wouldn’t be. You can’t fault someone for being honest.” A bit of a disaster was actually very kind.

For once, I wanted someone to just want me. No strings attached. I didn’t want to be the poor little witch who couldn’t get anything right. I didn’t want to be the maiden who needed saving.

I wanted to be the object of desire.

Specifically, his desire.

My magic crackled and the spell began to weave itself before I could stop it. “Oh Goddess! Run!”

“What?” Instead of running, he froze.

The magic curled in on itself, winding around that knot in my gut. Oh, this was going to be ugly. So. Very. Ugly.

“Magic,” I gasped.

It tried to climb up my throat, but I clamped my teeth together, as if that could hold it back.

“What did you do?”

I knew if I opened my mouth to answer, it would come swirling out in a hot fiery wave like some kind of shitty dragon. (Dragons are so shitty, you just don’t even know.)

Instead of running for his life, like any sane person would’ve done around me, he leaned closer.

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head violently, which made my stomach worse, rattled that magic around and made my guts bubble like taco night coupled with cheap beer. It was only a matter of time.

He reached out to touch my shoulder and the contact was like flipping a switch.

The heat of his hand scoring my skin through the thin material of my shirt kicked my lust into overdrive and my control to zero.

Pathetic.

Even more pathetic?

I couldn’t hold the magic back any longer. It erupted out of my mouth and smashed into the poor bastard I’d already cursed once, knocking him off his feet and flat on his back.

Wave after wave of glittering pink and gold power radiated from me, all sticking to him and crawling under his skin.

He laid there, shivering and shaking until finally, he was still.

Wiping the magic off my mouth, I crept a closer to him. His chest was still, and his eyes were closed.

Oh shit, was he dead?

Had I killed him?

I nudged his arm with my foot. There was no reaction.

Oh gods, the wrongs I’d done this warlock.

Don’t let him be dead. Don’t let him be dead. Don’t let him be dead…

I leaned over him and pressed my ear to his chest. I couldn’t hear a heartbeat. Frantically, I pressed my fingers to this throat to see if I could feel the pulse I couldn’t hear.

Still nothing.

Okay, CPR. Rescue breaths. I positioned my mouth over his. This was really not how I’d envisioned our lips touching.

Yeah, that’s what you get, wicked witch. You shouldn’t have been envisioning shit. You know what happens. This is your fault.

I pinched his nose and just as I was about to force air into his lungs, his eyes opened wide and he grabbed me, pinning me to the ground beneath him.

His eyes were still swirling with magic, all pink and gold. Like a happy snow globe from my childhood.

Except what was happening between us now had nothing to do with childhood.

His dick was harder than stone pressed against me, and I realized I’d gotten exactly what I wanted.

He wanted me.

I waited for the twist. The other shoe to drop. Because inevitably, it would. I’d wanted his desire and I got it, but things were never so easy.

Not to mention this was tampering with his free will. I didn’t mean to. I’d never knowingly use that kind of dark magic.

Maybe that was the twist. I’d gotten what I’d asked for, but I couldn’t actually have it. It went against all of my morals. Having sex with him under the influence of my spell was no better than rape. There was no real consent there. He might’ve thought he wanted me, but the spell was the same as if I’d slipped him a mickey, or gotten him drunk.

“What have you done to me?” he hissed against my mouth.

“Why didn’t you run?” I whimpered. He felt so good. No one had really touched me in so long. Even my friends were afraid of my magic. Except for Carpathia, and she wasn’t the touchy sort.

“Because I thought you were hurt.”

My heart sank. I was poison. I always had been. Poison in pink. I sighed. “You’re a good warlock. I’m so sorry.”

“Tell me what you did.” He raked his cheek against mine, the faint stubble rough on my skin.

“I wanted you.”

“Why?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Wanted. Lusted.”

“Oh,” he said, suddenly enamored with my hair.

I realized the flames had gone out. That was helpful.

“It’s so soft. Where did the fire go?”

“I don’t know.”

“It smells like hydrangeas.” He buried his face in my hair.

“You shouldn’t do that,” I said.

“Why not? I thought you wanted me.”

“I wanted you honestly. Not from magic. I won’t take advantage of you.”

He grabbed my hips and pressed against me. “It’s what you wanted. Now, it’s what I want. After everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done to me, you won’t give me some small relief?”

When he phrased it like that… No. I had to remain strong. It was only the spell and, after it was broken, this would feel like yet another violation. “If the situation were reversed, what would you think of a warlock who cursed a witch to feel lust that wasn’t there before and then took advantage of her?”

“I’d think he was the lowest piece of leviathan shit.” His hands had moved to my breasts. I knew I should stop him, but it felt so good. “But here’s the thing, little witch. I was eying what you had to offer before this little mishap.”

“Eyeing isn’t the same as acting.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t try to get my broom between your thighs while you were in distress. And your hair on fire standing in front of a smoking hole in your door is definitely distress.” He pressed his mouth to my throat. “But now, you’ve made your desires clear.”

“Goddess, we have to break this spell.” I motioned, and the book of hexes came to my hand and I shoved it into the space I made between us. “The answer is in here. We’ll break the spell, then if you still feel the same about me, we’ll go to a beach in Costa Rica and I’ll ride you like the Kentucky Derby until we both need a bucket of vitamin E and a Gatorade IV. Okay?”