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"And what did you do with his magic?"
"Gone, I'm afraid, tossed to the wind."
"Pity." Vayne rolled the boy onto his back with the toe of his black leather boot. Then, he sprinkled a bit of blue fairy dust all over Cedric, liberally coating him as though he were spicing a steak. One Latin incantation later, and the boy disappeared, taken to Coven headquarters presumably.
"Yes, it is a pity. I guess you'll have to find someone else to corrupt."
With the boy gone, Vayne turned his attention to her. They circled each other as they spoke, two wary predators sizing up an opponent.
"Like you?" He raised one silvery brow. His face was angular and his jaw was prominent. In short, he was lickable. Seemed a shame he was evil.
Rowena knew she could scratch a sexual itch with Vayne, but she'd never slept with the enemy and wasn't about to now. "Are you trying to hit on me?"
"Yes, and I'm succeeding."
Rowena forced a yawn. "I'm bored. Can we fight?"
"I didn't know you had a death wish, Rowena."
"That's an idle threat and we both know it." They were old adversaries, but well matched in magical abilities. A stalemate had always been the end result.
"Probably, but let's mix it up a bit. Let's try a bit of hand-to-hand. I want to cop a feel while I thrash you." He raked his eyes over her. "You're built the way I like my women. Big breasts and rounded hips. Throw in that jet black hair of yours and I'm ready to mount you right here."
"You wish." Rowena shrugged off her leather duster and tossed it across the top of the rickety fence behind her before pulling the athame from her boot.
The blade glinted in the moonlight, the Celtic crossblazing on the handle. It felt good in her hand, as though the athame had been fashioned only for her, yet it had been handed down across the generations in her family. She knew that one day soon she'd use the blade to kill Rochester.
Vayne came at her unarmed and she tried to push the blade into his belly, but he grasped her arm and brought it down across his knee, forcing her to drop it. The athame clattered to the ground and when she reached for it, he pulled her arm behind her back.
Vayne pressed his mouth against her ear, his voice husky. "I'm going to shag you right here, Rowena. Tell me you want that."
The words had the desired effect on her body. She wished he'd get over the whole bad boy thing and join her side. She'd consider making it worth his while, shag him senseless until she grew bored with him and she always grew bored with them eventually. She didn't dare give voice to her desires because she needed to keep her wits about her. "Not in this lifetime, Thorne."
Vayne approached her, invading her space. "Are you sure about that?"
He smelled of sage and other herbs that she couldn't recognize. He'd been spell-casting tonight, something wicked. That brought her back to her senses.
"Positive. We're fighting, Vayne, not screwing." She used the heel of her other hand to hit the underside of his nose. She heard the bone crunch as her hand made contact, causing blood to pour freely down his handsome face.
Vayne released her with a muttered curse. He wiped at the blood with the back of his gloved had. "Do you maim all of your lovers?"
"Only the ones I'm trying to kill." She kicked him in the shin, before sweeping her leg across his chest.
Turned on and pissed off at the same time, Rowena gasped for breath. The whole fight was undignified. They should have been using their wands like civilized people, instead of hitting each other like two children in a schoolyard fight.
When he bent over, caught between nursing his injured nose and shin, she planted her foot square in the middle of his chest. Vayne fell to the ground, landing on his back with a thud.
"Bloody hell! I've had enough of this!" He swept a leg under hers, and she landed on top of his prone body. He quickly situated her hips over his.
Merlin help me! This was the second warlock of the night that had been between her legs and not in a fun way! She tried to get up, but he held onto her hips. "Let's call it an impasse and move on, Thorne."
"Hardly." Vayne bucked his hips. "I've got you where I want you. Well, almost where I want you. Be a dear and take off those jeans."
"Why? You're in no shape to perform." She tried to get up again, but he held her in a viselike grip with his hard arousal nestled between her thighs. She couldn't help but rock against him, making them both moan.
He rolled them over so he was on top and pinned her between his cock and the sticky cement. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that the athame was in reach, just beside their prone bodies.
"You know, when I pictured bonking you, it wasn't in a filthy alley but I'll take you anyway way I can get you."
"Funny. I haven't thought about it all," she lied. Rowena grasped the blade, while he ogled her breasts, which were perilously close to popping free of her ripped t-shirt.