Since her fiancé’s death, Tess Edwards struggles to find new meaning in life. She doesn’t expect that new meaning to involve a sexy photographer who says he’s possessed by an energy-stealing beast. He claims she’s in danger and that he’s the only one who can save her. Great. He’s a nut job—cute, but delusional. She doesn’t believe in dragon spirits and magic, not until she finds her grandmother’s Book of Shadows. She’s descended from witches, and the book warns her of her fate. Although the beast inside Ethan needs her alive, he isn’t the only one of his kind. There’s another, and he wants Tess dead.
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The Beast had taken over again, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Ethan’s thumb brushed the back of the slender hand in his. He’d overpower The Beast’s compulsion if he could, but it was no use. For the last year, he’d tried everything he could think of to stop that monster, and nothing ever did any good. The evil inside him had become too strong. A bitter taste coated his tongue, and self-disgust soured his stomach. He’d been reduced to becoming a fucking minion to a parasite.
He glanced back. But why a woman this time? The Beast had never preyed upon a woman before. Then again, through the monster’s eyes, her aura glowed brighter than any he’d seen. The amount of psychic energy within her had to be phenomenal.
Shit. The Beast just had to choose this particular woman, didn’t he? When Ethan had first spotted her, he’d read the pain in her eyes, something he could relate to. No, he saw more—spirit. Nothing could defeat this girl, not totally. She was the first to catch his interest in a long, long time—he struggled to swallow past the knot of remorse in his throat—and now he was going to destroy her life.
The buzz of the crowd grew louder with each minute as midnight approached. Despite the mass of people around them, his senses centered on this one woman. He detected the faint smell of vanilla on her skin and the whisper of her every breath.
Ethan led her down a hall he knew too well. His chest ached with The Beast’s need for her energy, a need that grew stronger with each step. He opened a door and entered a storage room, drawing the girl in the teal dress with him. Shelves with boxes of glasses, paper towels, and cleansers lined three walls. A stack of chairs and a stool filled the cramped space, along with the usual mops and brooms.
“What’s your name?” she muttered as he flicked on the overhead light and closed the door.
He did a double take, and hope cut through the dread. No one under The Beast’s trance had spoken to him before. He took in her pale-gray eyes. They had the vacant look he’d become accustomed to. Damn. His hope dimmed. “My name’s Ethan.”
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