“Tall, dark and handsome,” she snapped. Then dread added to the already unstable mix in her stomach. “Oh God, what did you do? Summon a demon to ask me out?”
“No, of course not.” But he wouldn’t meet her eyes even as he waved a hand to brush away her concerns. “Never mind. It’s probably nothing. Just do me a favor and don’t make any deals with him, okay?”
“What? I can date other men but I can only negotiate with you?”
He smiled, a quick, merciless, predatory smile. He stalked toward her and she held her ground, refusing to retreat. He loomed over her, brushed a thumb over her lower lip and her breathing quickened. “Sweetheart, you go on your date. Have a good time. But we both know you’ll only be thinking of me.”
She expected a quick, forceful, claiming of a kiss. She was braced for it, ready to defend herself against his domination, but she was completely unprepared for the soft, sweet brush of his mouth over hers. The gentle, coaxing invitation of his lips. She felt her knees loosen and just when she was certain he would press his advantage, overpowering her, branding her, he pulled away.
And winked. “Just something to think about on your date.” He pressed a finger to her lips like he was marking his place and then he was gone.
Leaving her with a lot to think about and defective knees.
Chapter Nineteen
Facebook Frenzy
The bell had been ringing nonstop all afternoon, so when it jangled again, Prometheus didn’t even glance up from the horde of teenage girls crowded around the register. Word had apparently gotten around at the speed of Facebook that Micah Hot-Jock had only asked Carly Theater-Geek to the prom and elevated her to such social status that she was named Prom Queen after Carly Theater-Geek had purchased an irresistibility charm at the Prometheus Unbound Bookshop and Spell Emporium.
He hadn’t even been sure he wanted to open the shop today, but when he saw the crowd of squealing girls waiting outside like he was auctioning off Taylor Lautner’s abs, he’d realized commerce therapy was exactly the cure for his current baseless irritation.
Now, three hours later, with his stock of irresistibility charms sold out and the more expensive true love charms going fast, his irritation was no longer baseless. He was losing patience with the seemingly endless supply of teenage girls looking for the summer fling that would define their very existences—especially because so few of them paid any attention to his warnings about side effects and reading the instructions carefully. He’d had to flat out refuse to sell to one girl who’d proclaimed she was going to wear her irresistibility charm night and day until Aidan Something-or-other noticed her and refused to listen when Prometheus explained that irresistibility charms could easily turn into obsession and stalker-bait charms if they were worn too often. The brat would have deserved what she got, but damn Karma had him thinking about what would happen after the charm left his store—as if any of that was his fault. He’d had to give the brat a discount on an allure potion just to get her to stop screeching threats about what her father would do to his business license if he didn’t sell to her. No one screeched at him before he developed a conscience. Except Karma. Life was easier when you let everyone dig their own grave, but these were kids. Obnoxious kids with too many hormones, but just kids.
The latest cluster—why did they always travel in packs?—finally gathered up their purchases and giggled and squealed their way out of the shop, leaving behind a heavenly silence. Prometheus surveyed the shop. It looked like a tornado had hit it, but his mortgage for the next two months was bulging in the register so he couldn’t complain. There were only two customers left—a mousy girl clutching a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice as she surveyed what remained of the romance charms, and a woman with curly brown hair and a designer handbag, who turned and beamed at him.
“Hi, Prometheus!”
“Brittany. Did Karma send you?”
The Karmic receptionist shook her head, curls bouncing. “She doesn’t know I’m here, but I had to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
Brittany sobered. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Karma is seeing another man.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
“She did? Like in a make-you-jealous way? Or a warn-you-off way? Or an if-I-tell-you-about-my-date-I-can-pretend-we’re-just-buddies-and-I-don’t-really-want-to-jump-your bones-even-though-I-totally-do way?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say probably the second one.” But something still didn’t sit right with him about the timing. For some guy to pursue Karma immediately after Deuma had said she was worth tempting… “Brittany, did you see the guy? What’s he like?”
“Oh! I am full of reconnaissance about the enemy! He’s plastic.”
“Plastic. You mean she was lying and she doesn’t really have a date?”
“No, no, he’s a real date. But he looks stiff. Like a mannequin. Attractive though. If you like that sort of thing.”
Prometheus nodded. He still didn’t like the way his gut clenched at the thought of her out with another guy, but at least he knew it wasn’t Deuma or one of her minions in disguise. No one would ever call a maenad plastic. They were all heat—they’d melt a mannequin in seconds flat.
“Don’t worry,” Brittany soothed. “I don’t think Karma really likes him. She’s only using him to perpetuate her denial about her feelings for you.”
Prometheus frowned down at the perky little pixie he’d accidentally had a hand in kidnapping. “Brittany, why are you on my side? Shouldn’t you be the first one in line telling Karma to stay the hell away from me?”
Brittany cocked her head, visibly confused by the question, and a hesitant voice interrupted.
“Um, excuse me? How much is this one?” The girl with the book stood off to one side, holding up a true love charm. “The racks got all jumbled up and I can’t tell which ones go where.”
Prometheus frowned at the charm. “You don’t want that one.”
Jane Austen Girl’s expression turned instantly militant. “Yes, I do.”
“What do you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you want the charm to accomplish? What do you want to achieve?”
Jane Austen Girl blushed. “Never mind.” She started to turn away.
“There’s a guy, right?”
He half-expected her to ignore him, but she hesitated, drawing a circle on the floor with the toe of one Ked. “Aaron Walsh,” she mumbled.
Prometheus frowned. He’d heard that name several times today. Apparently, the kid was something of a heartthrob at the local high school. “That’ll make him love you.”
Jane Austen Girl spun back to face him, brown eyes fierce behind her glasses. “Then it’s the one I want.”
“You sure? It won’t make him be faithful to you or treat you well. Love isn’t always fun. Sometimes it stings like a bitch—and it isn’t always romance. It might make him love you as a friend, or a little sister. But go ahead and buy that one. If you just want him to love you.”
Jane Austen Girl was studying him speculatively now, all traces of defensiveness gone. “Which one will make him do all that other stuff? Treat me well and love me like I love him?”
“None of them. Magic doesn’t do that. It works with free will, not against it. It won’t change your nature to make you want something you normally wouldn’t. All it can do is let you see things you wouldn’t normally. For all I know, your Aaron Walsh is gay or so religious he thinks dating is a sin—or he is a dickhead who refuses to date anyone who isn’t a cheerleader. Magic won’t change that.”