“Now, now. No need for Draconian measures,” Victoria’s words were laced with compulsion.

“Stop that!” Aisha stared her kinswoman straight in the eye.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Victoria thinned her mouth into a harsh line. “Why were you instigating problems?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re taking about.” Aisha mimicked her grandmother’s words down to matching the inflection.

“Oh for the love of the goddess, let’s drop this ridiculous game. Why were you encouraging Hector to lie? It wouldn’t have done you much good. Contrary to what you believe, the cat isn’t particularly fond of me.”

“It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly.” Defensiveness carved a path through her. Victoria frequently had that effect, mostly because she was a master at grabbing the upper hand and hanging onto it.

“Let’s not split hairs. You wanted me back here. I knew that last night.” She sent a knowing look down her aquiline nose. Aisha had always hated that look with its combination of superciliousness and mild contempt.

No reason to deny it, so Aisha folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Tell me what you know about Liam.”

“Why?”

Aisha ground her teeth. “How about this? If I fuck him, will I live to regret it? You and Mom are always nattering away about me keeping the family line going. I can’t do that if I don’t have sex.”

Victoria spun one hand in a tired circle. “Depends what kind of spawn you want to produce, but no, he’s not the best choice.”

“Why? What don’t I know?”

“Oh, very well.” Victoria’s nostrils flared. “He’s a dragon shifter, and—”

Breath whooshed from Aisha. If a mule had kicked her in the guts, it would have produced much the same effect.

“Oh come now, child. Surely you guessed something was up with him. Otherwise, why pick him and not some garden-variety cowboy? They have dicks too.”

“I picked him because I was attracted to him.” Aisha tried for dignity but fell short. She felt stupid. Magic called to its own, and she should have known.

Laughter spewed from her grandmother until Aisha wanted to strangle her. When she got hold of herself, she said, “Of course, you’d be ‘attracted’ to him. He’s the most potent magic wielder around here by a good big bunch.”

“But,” Aisha sputtered, “all the dragons left Earth.”

“At least you got something right.” Victoria skewered her with one of her looks—again.

Aisha shook her head, hoping for clearer thoughts. “They can’t be gone and here at the same time.”

“To the best of my knowledge, he’s the only one here. He was a bad dragon, and his kin banished him. I believe it was a time-linked eviction, but I don’t have details.”

Aisha chewed her lower lip. “Which means he’s due to leave Earth sometime.”

“Smart witch.” Victoria patted her arm, ghostly fingers feeling chilly when they connected. “I’ll save you the trouble of putting it together. If you bind yourself to him, it means you’ll end up leaving too. Dragons have strong ties to their home world. Really strong.” She slitted her hazel eyes. “That cannot happen. Someone must be here. On this land. With our horses.”

“How come you didn’t tell me all this last night?”

Her grannie shrugged. “I hadn’t thought things through. Last night, I saw the humorous side, but I kicked it around with your mother, and we decided one of us had to stop you.”

“Mmph. I guess I didn’t need to co-opt Hector. Or try to. While I’m on that topic, what the hell is he?”

Victoria shook a finger beneath her nose. “Enough classified information for one day.”

Aisha strengthened her casting. “What if I said I wouldn’t release you until you told me?”

“That would be a big mistake, dearie. A very big mistake. Do you want to be looking over your shoulder for the next century wondering how I’m going to retaliate?”

“Erm. No.” Aisha swallowed hard, dropped her hands to her sides, and reeled in her magic. Victoria was more than capable of making good on her threat, and Aisha had enough problems.

“Better.” Victoria smiled benignly. “Lovely chat. I’ll be on my way.”

“But what should I do about my love charm?”

“It’ll run its course. You might want to lie low for a few days.” Victoria’s glistening form took on a liquid aspect before it shimmered into nothingness, leaving Aisha standing dead center in her empty kitchen.

She owed Hector an apology but didn’t want to take the time to run him down, so she sent warm thoughts and a clear telepathic invitation to come back inside. He must have been close because he slunk through the cat door and made a beeline for his dish, all without glancing her way.

Water dripped from his luxuriant coat, forming puddles on the floor. She thought about wrapping him in a towel to soak up some of the excess, but she’d done enough damage for one day. He hated it when she touched him. Checking on stew meat she’d taken out of the freezer earlier in the day, she tossed it into a pressure cooker along with carrots, onions, and seasonings. After setting the whole mess atop a burner, she headed for the other end of the downstairs.

Now that she knew what Liam was, she could research dragon shifters. The more she knew, the better she could protect herself. In case he hunted her down or something. Breath whistled from between her teeth. Crap on a cracker. What if she’d had sex with him, and he’d branded her somehow?

Worse, what if she actually wanted to walk away from her witchy heritage and follow him to wherever the dragons lived? Would fucking him turn her into a dragon shifter too? The idea repelled and excited her by turns. What would it be like to fly? To breathe fire?

To get laid a hundred feet in the air?

“Whoa, there, sweetie.” Aisha put a lid on her thoughts. She was still desperate for the feel of a cock buried between her legs. Just thinking about it slicked her female bits with lust. She stopped in front of one of the home’s many bookcases and drew a small box out from behind a magical tome. She’d be much more efficient researching Liam if she came first.

That way, her head wouldn’t be fogged with lust and need and visions of his body naked and atop her, plumbing her with what was probably an amazing appendage. If his other form was a dragon, he had to be hung like no one’s business.

She was breathing faster, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she pulled a dual stimulator from her treasure trove of sex toys. Women who had partners probably didn’t need all those things. The variety and number of toys in the box spoke to how long she’d been alone. Any other day, she’d have felt sorry for herself, but she was too aroused to let her overflowing toy collection bring her down.

Her nipples had turned to distended peaks beneath her sweatshirt top. Reaching one hand beneath it, she cupped a breast and rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Sensation rushed straight to her crotch, and she groaned, rubbing her thighs tight together.

The vibrator could wait for her second orgasm.

She inserted a hand beneath her waistband, shivering as her fingertips grazed her stomach before moving lower. Her clit was slick and swollen. She swirled an index finger around it before she abandoned any pretense of drawing this out and began to rub herself in earnest. Hard little circles that set her hips into a pagan rhythm as she thrust against her fingers.

Desire thickened the air around her until she could have sworn she tasted sex. Smelled it and was practically rolling in it. Her fingers snugged around her nipple and beat a tattoo against her clit. Far from elegant, orgasm caught her up and spun her around, leaving her breathless and shaking.

The shaking got her attention. She’d been so keyed up, she was still on her feet, hands thrust into her clothing like an errant teenager hoping to sneak in a climax with no one noticing.

The image made her laugh. She’d had plenty of surreptitious orgasms with a pillow stuffed between her legs, but not for a long time. Her nether regions still hummed with arousal. One climax had never been enough to satisfy her, but this time she sank to the floor and tugged one leg out of her sweatpants. She reached for her dual-headed vibrator with visions of Liam cavorting through her mind—a buck naked Liam with beautiful bronze skin and all his glorious hair tickling her as he strung kisses from the hollow in her neck to her breasts.

A lusty, Mrowwww, snapped her head up.

Hector sat about two feet away, leering at her.

Back when she’d thought he was a cat, she’d never given his presence a second thought, but now, when she was no longer certain, it felt perverse to frig herself in front of him.

“Shoo.” She waved both hands in his direction.

Mrowwww. His pink tongue snaked out, sweeping across his upper lip, while his eerie feline gaze remained glued on her.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Well, you have to go out and hunt sometime.”

He shook his head twice, once to the left and once back to the right.

Fantasies of Liam aside, she was too self-conscious to continue, so she rolled onto one side and dropped the vibrator back into the box with all the other gadgets she’d collected.

“Fine.” She wrinkled her nose at the cat and jumped to her feet. The pressure regulator was rocking like a dervish gone wild, so she turned down the heat beneath her stew and returned to the section of her library devoted to shifters.

Maybe not exactly “her” library, but it had fallen into her hands by default. Never mind all the generations of witches who’d gathered the books, scrolls, and tattered pages. Blowing off dust, she picked her way through the most promising shelf and tugged books and scrolls out as she went—along with a couple of leather-bound notebooks that looked like they dated back to the Middle Ages.

She poured herself a brandy and dragged her loot to a low table next to her favorite chair. Dinner would be at least an hour, even with the pressure cooker, and she’d make good use of the time. When she looked around for the cat, he was gone.

“Fucking voyeur,” she called in the general direction of the cat door, but Hector didn’t answer.

She hadn’t expected him to.

Aisha was most of the way through dinner and her second brandy when she found what she’d been looking for. Focusing magic, she slogged through what turned out to be an early version of German mixed with Gaelic. After reading for an hour, she slumped against the creased-leather easy chair. The dragon shifters home world was Xara. They’d moved there a few centuries after Atlantis sank into the North Sea.

She’d always assumed Atlantis ended up in the Aegean, but she’d been wrong. Dragon shifters mated for life. Infidelity wasn’t tolerated, nor were single dragons. Her mouth curved into a soft smile. What had Liam done to get himself kicked out of the fold. She’d bet her last spell it had something to do with sex. If any man lived, ate, and breathed sensuality, it was him.

What color was he as a dragon? How old? Dragon shifters weren’t exactly immortal but close to it.

A puzzled whinny blasted through her mind, followed by a veritable cacophony. Aisha started to laugh. Her darlings wanted their dinner—and her. She always bid them good night and swathed them in protective magic. They were just like children, and they missed their nightly ritual.

She scrambled to her feet and walked her dish to the sink. The stew would keep overnight, so she pushed it to the back of the stove and settled the lid atop the pot. It had stopped raining at least an hour ago, but the yard would be muddy, so she shoved her feet into Muck boots and her arms into a rain slicker.

Flicking on the yard lights, she threaded her way among puddles and into the barn. The horses nickered and cooed, welcoming her. Aisha breathed deep. She loved horsey smells, and nothing compared with being surrounded by equine love. They adored her. She was their mother. Their goddess. It ran far deeper than her keeping the barn clean and their troughs full.

As she scratched ears and rubbed noses and passed out broken bits of carrot and apple she kept in a small fridge in the barn, she thought about Liam. He’d never fit into her life. The horses would sense his differentness and might react badly. They weren’t overly fond of wolf shifters, viewing them the same way they saw wolves—as a potential enemy.

Dragons weren’t exactly on their horsey radar, but she didn’t expect things to go well. A brisk meow announced Hector’s presence. The horses ignored him, and his only use for them was culling through discarded bits of food seeing if they’d left anything he might be interested in.

Hmmm. Not that Hector was anything like a dragon shifter, but she was pretty certain he wasn’t a cat. If the horses accepted him, maybe she was wrong about Liam.

“Oh for pity’s sake, get a life,” she muttered.

The striking dragon shifter barely knew she existed, and here she was spinning fantasies about a life together. She was pathetic. Deserved her spinster status. She’d halfway been expecting him to pull into the driveway, but apparently her spell hadn’t affected him the same way it might have influenced a lesser magic wielder.

She made a face. He must have felt the charm, known its source, and thumbed his nose at her efforts. Pretentious bastard. She’d always courted challenge with a bring-it-on vibe, but this was ridiculous.

If I’d known…

Her thoughts trailed off, remaining unfinished. Perhaps at some level, she had known, but she’d forged ahead anyway.

As if her visit gave them permission to pack it in for the night, the horses wandered into their stalls. She wove a protection spell, killed the lights, and slogged back to the house through puddles and mud. Maybe next summer she’d put in drainage tiles. She’d been planning to do that these past five years, but it was a huge job requiring a backhoe, which she’d have to rent.

Summers were busy. She always had newborn foals and customers stopping by to purchase either them—once they grew old enough to leave their mothers—or one of the older breeding stock. Resignation licked at her heels as she held the kitchen door open for Hector. Maybe this was the life that was ordained for her. It wasn’t a bad one.

Once she got past the lonely part.

Hector strode past, tail still drooping from his stint outside in the rain. She shut the door, latching the cat door to keep raccoons and other small rodents out, and trudged up the ladder to her bed. A focused jot of magic lit one of her pillar candles. It sent crazy shadows creeping up the walls as she stripped out of her sweats and donned a flannel nightgown.

The garment had been her mother’s, and if anything made her feel like an old maid, it was this nightgown. Maybe that’s why she’d selected it. To pound home that she’d never find a mate.

What had her grandmother said about the love charm? Oh yeah, that she should lie low for a couple days until it lost its punch. She could do that—for the most part. She’d made a commitment to help the other women set up a dance tomorrow night. Her part was decorations and serving booze-laden punch to the party-goers.

In truth, she’d been looking forward to the party. She almost never went anywhere. As it was, she’d have to explain to the horses they’d be going to bed without her tomorrow night. They wouldn’t like it. They’d guilt-trip the hell out of her, which was why she rarely went anywhere.

Goddess’s tits. What the hell was I thinking when I cast that love charm?

Only a horse-witch would put up with what I have to. Most people like to travel, go places. I can barely go out to dinner.

Before she sank deeper into a funk, she focused on the candleflame, letting it soothe her as she cast a relaxation spell. Her life hadn’t changed one whit.

“Yeah, and that’s the problem,” she muttered. “Either I come to terms with that little fact, or I have to stand up to Mom and Grannie. Tell them to rustle up some other witch to watch over Lazy Witch Acres.”

Her impromptu label brought a smile, but then she winced. Big words. Confronting her female kin would be a tough nut to crack. Easier to stuff her head up her ass like she’d been doing and let each day follow on the heels of the one before. She did love the horses. And they loved her.

She’d have to figure out a way to make sure their mutual admiration was enough.