Curse of the Witching Hour

by Sarina Dorie

  His skin prickled as if his fur couldn’t make up its mind whether it wanted to grow or recede. Every muscle in his body cramped, including his stomach. He raced out from under the bed and made it to the litter box in the bathroom before he was sick. At least he made it this time, unlike when he’d transformed in Abigail’s closet.

  Lucifer lay curled up in the bathtub, shivering as fever and chills coursed through him. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he realized he was cramped by the confines and didn’t fit very well. He was too groggy to even feel success over his change.

  Lucifer shifted the litter box out of the tub so it wouldn’t get wet and took a hot shower. The caress of the water invigorated him and banished the desire to sleep.

  Gertrude and her current lover were silent in the other room. When Lucifer emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he found her asleep beside a dark-skinned man who might have been a Spaniard. The man had a five o’clock shadow that Gertrude probably found rakish. Lucifer thought he looked shady, his expression smug and devious even in slumber.

  Gertrude was gorgeous in sleep with her hair mussed. She wore no makeup and used no glamour. Her allure was a combination of physical perfection and the siren magic she couldn’t camouflage. Desire rose in Lucifer just gazing at her.

  He sat down at the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. He kept his voice low so that he wouldn’t wake her guest. “Gertrude, I changed back.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she curled around him. “That’s nice.”

  That void inside him seemed to grow bigger. She didn’t even care. Abigail would have cared.

  “I’m human, but I don’t know how long it will last.” Gazing at her perfect pink lips, he wouldn’t have minded fueling himself this way with her. Guilt raked through him a moment later. Abigail was the only woman he wanted. She was the reason he needed to be a man.

  He hated making himself vulnerable and speaking about his affinity so freely, but it was necessary for Gertrude to understand. “I need to fuel my incubus magic so I can stay this way.”

  “I bet you do,” she said into her pillow.

  “I need you to get rid of this mutton head so that you can make love to me.” His voice came out a growl, his annoyance oozing through.

  The man in the bed beside Gertrude stirred but didn’t wake.

  When she still didn’t rise, he bit her exposed neck. She gasped, and her heart lurched. She was fully awake now. Her fingers twined through his long hair, and she yanked his face to hers to kiss him.

  When she at last broke away, gasping for breath, her eyes were alert. She smoothed a hand over his cheek. “You look so much like him. It’s uncanny.”

  Lucifer felt his forehead crinkle up in confusion. “Who?” He hoped she didn’t mean his brother.

  She sat up and pushed back the blankets. “I’ll be right back.” Her voice was sweet and melodic.

  Lucifer felt himself sinking into the notes of music that careened through the space between them. She sauntered to the bathroom, her hips swaying to a rhythm that seemed to match his heartbeat. She smiled coquettishly over her shoulder and winked at him.

  Without clothes to hide her figure, Gertrude resembled a naked Barbie doll with exaggerated feminine proportions that sexualized the female body. Abigail hadn’t wanted her girls to play with Barbies because they perpetuated negative stereotypes young women wouldn’t be able to attain.

  Somehow Gertrude had attained that figure.

  Even after Gertrude had closed the bathroom door, Lucifer couldn’t stop staring at the spot where she’d been. She had undressed in front of him plenty of times without shame. His cat body hadn’t found her particularly interesting. He was more entranced when she invited him to curl up on her lap as she read a book and she stroked his fur.

  “Who are you?” a man asked, speaking with a thick French accent.

  Lucifer jolted back into himself, the siren allure fading as he took in Gertrude’s guest on the bed beside him.

  The stranger rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was covered in almost enough body hair that he could have passed for a balding sasquatch. The man didn’t look particularly disturbed that a stranger twice his body weight was looming over him, naked save for a towel.

  Lucifer considered what answer might drive Gertrude’s lover out of the room the fastest. Probably if he pretended to be her jealous lover. No, better yet, her enraged husband.

  “I’m Abigail’s husband,” Lucifer said coolly.

  “Who’s Abigail? Is she a friend of Gertrude?”

  Ugh. Lucifer couldn’t believe that Freudian slip had made it out of his mouth. Obviously, he didn’t have complete control of his mental faculties as a man yet.

  “I’m Antoine.” The man stretched, the movement as sinuous as a cat.

  Lucifer didn’t introduce himself. “When are you leaving?”

  Antoine laughed. “Why would I leave? The evening is still young, and my passion is endless.”

  Lucifer’s lips curled back. A growl sounded low in his throat.

  Antoine chuckled. “I’m a werejaguar. What kind of shifter are you?” He sniffed at Lucifer.

  “None of your business.” Lucifer edged back. “I’m going to give you thirty seconds to get out of this bed and leave.”

  Gertrude’s singsong voice came from behind him. “Lucy, play nice.” She sauntered up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  Antoine’s eyes widened. “This is your friend Lucy? I thought this Lucy was a female.”

  Gertrude laughed. “You didn’t!”

  “You told him about me?” Lucifer asked.

  Gertrude laid a palm on his chest. “I just told him you were a shifter who couldn’t change back.”

  Some of Lucifer’s fury melted away. Warm tingles of complacency rushed through him. He leaned against Gertrude’s hand, inhaling her fragrance of spring water and starlight. Her magic was almost powerful enough to wash away the scent of sexual activity, but not quite.

  Gertrude sat down on the edge of the bed. “I met Antoine yesterday at the bookstore. We had a stimulating conversation about shifters and curses—like the Sleeping Beauty Curse. It didn’t take much to convince him to come back home with me to meet you.” Gertrude’s grin grew sheepish. “I suppose we got a little distracted when we arrived. One thing led to another, and here we are. It seems like everything worked out in your favor.”

  Gertrude was a dangerous witch, not because she was cruel like Baba, but because she could bend Lucifer so easily to her will. He wasn’t sure how much of his desire for her was her sex goddess beauty and how much was because she had bewitched him with a spell.

  Nor did he particularly care.

  “I need to charge my magic so that I can remain human,” Lucifer said.

  Gertrude’s face brightened with excitement. “Oh goody! I’ve always wanted to have two men in my bed at once.”

  Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at Antoine. He had no interest in this stranger. The sooner he left, the better. Gertrude batted her eyelashes at him.

  Lucifer’s growl turned into a purr. Damn it! She was manipulating him with magic. They were going to need to set boundaries and have a serious discussion about this.

  Later.

  * * *

  Lucifer was surprised he managed to store any magic at all with how addled his mind was under the influence of Gertrude’s siren affinity. He lost track of time, had no sense of propriety—not that he had much to begin with—and went without sleep and food for a full day because he was so focused on indoor recreational activities. When he woke from a catnap, he was starving.

  Lucifer woke slowly. Guilt for succumbing to Gertrude’s spell so readily made him squirm away from his two lovers.

  Gertrude didn’t keep any food in her studio apartment. He considered leaving, but if he did, he didn’t know whether he would exit into Paris or Womby’s. Either way, he feared he migh
t not be able to find his way back to her door.

  He lay in bed, thinking over the surreal experience of being with a siren. He supposed he should have felt gratitude for Gertrude’s willingness to have sex with him and help him cure his curse, but he didn’t want to be with her again. Her magic took away his inhibitions to the point it made him drunk. It was the kind of dirty trick an incubus would have done—something he had always tried to ensure he didn’t do to Abigail back when they’d been teenagers and he had been a human.

  Eventually Gertrude stirred. She snuggled up to Lucifer. “How was that, pet? Do you think you’ll stay human this time?”

  He did feel different. Every muscle in his body ached, and his belly cramped—but that might have been hunger and physical exhaustion.

  His affinity felt strong at least.

  Lucifer didn’t feel as if he were about to change, but he hadn’t thought the change would be temporary last time either. What if this wasn’t permanent? He would be forced to bed her again to remain human. He didn’t know Gertrude. He wasn’t certain he liked her.

  He loved Abigail. She was the only one he wanted to be with. And yet, if he didn’t fuel himself this way, he would never rescue her—never mind the danger his own soul was in of turning feral.

  “I don’t want you to use siren magic on me again,” he said.

  She traced a finger over his jaw. “If I hadn’t, do you think you’d be human right now? Or do you think you would have changed back into a cat?”

  He didn’t know. He’d remained a few hours as a human with Abigail. When he glanced at the overcast sky through the skylight between columns of books, he couldn’t tell how much time had passed since he’d transformed. It was daylight.

  Gertrude sat up and stretched. “How about something to eat?” She poked Antoine. “Do you want to come with us to get breakfast?”

  “Perhaps it will be dinner, no?” Antoine yawned.

  If there was one thing Lucifer never refused, it was food.

  * * *

  Gertrude linked arms with her two lovers, one on each side of her. Lucifer was uncomfortably aware of the sideways glances they received as Gertrude laughed and flirted with Antoine while they walked down a Parisian lane. It was hard to say how many of those stares were because Gertrude was so attractive and how many were because it was obvious the three looked like lovers.

  Lucifer glared at anyone he caught staring and growled at an old woman who lifted her nose at them contemptuously. They were in France. People were supposed to be open to ménage à trois. Then again, he might have drawn attention when he hacked up a hair ball onto the sidewalk. Some cat habits were hard to break. He hoped that didn’t mean he was changing back.

  Antoine led them to a restaurant he liked to frequent.

  There was something off-putting about Antoine that needled under Lucifer’s skin. Antoine held himself with casual confidence, but his shifty eyes continually inspected the shadows, as if expecting someone to appear. His magic left an oily residue on Lucifer’s tongue, and Lucifer couldn’t tell how much of what he sensed was jealousy and his own bias versus instincts.

  “We must do the right thing and pay for our meal,” Lucifer said firmly. He could emphasize the importance of this now that he could speak.

  “I always pay for my meal.” Gertrude winked at him. “With magic.”

  He grimaced. “That isn’t what I mean.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you really expect a librarian at a school for at-risk youth to be able to pay full price for her vacation? I have magic at my disposal, and I’ve worked hard to gain it. Why not use it?”

  “So true,” Antoine said. “Witchkin should not have to bow down to Fae laws.”

  Lucifer eyed a cluster of birds circling in the darkening sky. “If you can’t be bothered to do the right thing because it’s ethical, at least consider refraining from using magic so you don’t draw attention to yourself.” He nodded to the birds. “Those might be Fae spies waiting to see if you make a mistake so they can catch you.”

  One of the birds let a splatter of excrement loose, the white goo splattering across the cobblestones before Lucifer. Now he was certain those foul fowls were Fae.

  “We must take precautions, of course.” Antoine avoided the white mess on the street and kept walking. “But we have magic, and these Morties do not. There was a time Witchkin were worshipped as gods. Now we are outcasts. It hardly seems fair.”

  Witchkin had never been revered as gods. That was the Fae. According to Baba, Witchkin had been revered—or feared—as witches.

  “Exactly!” Gertrude nodded emphatically. She continued to agree with Antoine’s assertions.

  Lucifer didn’t know who was a worse influence on whom.

  Gertrude smiled at Lucifer. Her skin gleamed like mother-of-pearl. His apprehensions melted away. When they arrived at the restaurant, some of her siren hold on him slipped away. Seated outside, he noticed the row of birds watching them. It had grown too dark to tell whether they were ravens or crows.

  Lucifer ordered beef bourguignon, an appetizer of cheese and bread, and a crème brûlée. Now that he was human, he wanted to fully taste everything he’d been missing out on for thirty years, and he felt as though he hadn’t eaten in days. The only thing that disturbed his appetite were the birds.

  “Look at them watching us. They’re waiting for us to use magic.” Had Lucifer been a cat, he would have pounced on them.

  “They cannot help gazing at Gertrude’s beauty.” Antoine laid a hand on hers.

  She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “Stop. You’re too much.”

  Lucifer kept his voice to a low rumble, hoping the cutlery on plates around them drowned out his voice. “Did you do something at the bookstore that drew attention to yourselves? Did you use any magic?”

  “Of course not.” Gertrude rolled her eyes. “You’re being paranoid.”

  Lucifer wondered whether she had enchanted Antoine in the bookstore and that was why these birds were following them. Even if they weren’t from the Raven Court, they might be from another Fae court, and they could be just as vicious.

  “Promise me you won’t use magic,” Lucifer said.

  Gertrude reached for his arm, but Lucifer pulled back, not wanting her to influence him against his will. More than that, he didn’t want her to use her magic so openly.

  “Come now, Lucy. We said we would be careful.” Antoine grinned a little too widely. “Let us not argue about this. We had such a pleasant day together.”

  Lucifer didn’t trust the man’s smile. Abigail had always accused Lucifer of being quick to attack other males. Perhaps she was right, and he was prejudiced against men. Or perhaps Antoine was going to entice Gertrude into folly.

  As the sky turned black, and the restaurant became lit with the amber glow of candlelight, more diners crowded the tables inside and out, almost drowning out the rustle of feathers.

  Lucifer had only just finished his appetizer when his belly began to cramp. Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He was going to change.

  In front of all these people.

  He stood, gripping the table as his knees turned to jelly. “Excuse me.” His voice came out a growl.

  He staggered off to find a restroom. He made it just in time to lock himself inside. The air was hot and stuffy. He pushed open the tiny window high on the wall that opened to the street. The air outside wasn’t much cooler.

  He vomited into the toilet before collapsing onto the grimy tiles. His bones lanced with fire, and he temporarily lost consciousness as he transformed back into a cat. The floor was hard underneath him as he woke.

  He was distantly aware of voices drifting in from outside. One voice stood out in particular.

  A man said, “A siren is a delicious find for the Queen of Pain and Pleasure.” It sounded like Antoine, but Lucifer wasn’t certain.

  Lucifer’s head was foggy, as if he were floating
in a sea of mist. He knew that royal title: the Queen of Pain and Pleasure. It was one that belonged to a Fae queen. He knew which one, but his head throbbed, and his muscles ached from the transformation. He couldn’t tell whether this was a dream or reality.

  A woman’s voice with a crisp British accent spoke so quietly Lucifer almost missed what she said with the cars rumbling by in the street beyond. “Our queen will commend you for this find, another teacher from Womby’s School for Wayward Witches. Mayhap we can use this one to lure Felix Thatch back home.”

  “Perhaps our queen will free me from her service for such a deed, no?” The man chuckled.

  Lucifer was more certain this was Antoine as he continued to listen. He lifted his head from the floor, his ears twitching. He didn’t know whom he spoke with. It wasn’t Gertrude.

  He sniffed at the air. The odor of cigarette smoke, the fragrance of perfume, and the aroma of food almost hid the dark-bright taste of magic in the air. It was bittersweet and wrong on Lucifer’s tongue. He tasted blood and death.

  “Once in our queen’s service, always in her service,” the woman said. “It isn’t a bargain you can shrug off so easily. Bringing the Raven Queen a siren is hardly going to warm Her Majesty’s heart.”

  Gertrude was a siren. She worked at Womby’s. Lucifer’s brain finally caught up with their words. They were talking about abducting Gertrude. They intended to catch her, probably for using magic. And they would take her to the Raven Queen. Lucifer had never trusted his brother, especially not after hearing about the rumors all those years ago when he’d been in her employment. But if the Raven Queen meant to use Gertrude to lure Felix, that meant he wasn’t in her employment anymore.

  Lucifer had been right in not trusting Antoine.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Raven Bait

  Lucifer’s heart slammed into his rib cage, and his head pounded. Or at least Lucifer thought it was his head. Then he realized it was someone’s insistent fist on the door.

  “Lucy, are you in there? Are you all right?” Gertrude asked.