Her troubles stemmed from the horrible day the warlock, Trevor Mitchell, had kidnapped her to force her best friend and roommate, Alex St. Claire, along with two other witches into giving up their powers so he could manipulate demon magic.

Paige hadn’t been part of the ceremony that thankfully had been interrupted. But she’d been trapped inside the same room with the ancient artifacts—four small metal cylinders carved with ornate symbols—and exposed to a potent dose of their residual energies.

If Alex hadn’t already fried Trevor into a crispy pile of bones, she’d be tempted to do it herself.

Three months had passed, and she was still having difficulties. Not a good thing, especially for a witch who relied on her magic to create charms and talismans for her family’s business.

Yesterday, poor Rose Jesop had returned a charm. Instead of helping with her asthma, the darn thing had given her a bad case of hives. Paige’s enchantments were getting worse, bordering on dark magic. She was afraid that eventually one of the spells she worked was going to hurt someone.

Paige hadn’t wanted to worry her mother, so she’d kept the problem a secret. It was even harder not to share the information with Alex because they shared everything. She also knew her friend blamed herself for what Trevor had done to them, and she didn’t want Alex suffering any more guilt.

She’d consulted Drake, Alex’s uncle and the owner of St. Claire Investigations. The powerful witch thought the situation might be temporary but recommended she consult with a coven healer. A healer whose powers specialized in cleansing. Her power had healing properties on a smaller scale that enabled her to help others with her charms. She couldn’t, however, use her magic to help herself. Not with something this evil and dangerous.

Following Drake’s advice was how she’d ended up sitting in a chair across from Harker in the small office at the back of the Petite Broom. The early morning visit was prompted by her hesitancy to meet at his public practice and her concern for complete discretion.

It was their first session, and he’d agreed to stop by her mother’s apothecary shop before their regular business hours started. Their privacy was guaranteed since none of the employees were due to arrive for at least an hour.

His contemplative gaze held hers as he stroked the short, caramel-colored goatee along his narrow chin. “Given the extent of the exposure, the demon magic appears to have bonded itself to your powers.”

“Are you saying I’ll be stuck like this forever?” She fought to conceal her hysteria. It was hard enough to struggle through each day without something going wrong with her spells. There was no way she could do it for the rest of her life.

His shifted his head side to side. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” He gave her hand a reassuring pat. “I don’t think it will go away on its own. We may need to invoke an expulsion spell to force it out of your body.”

Forcing usually translated in to something painful, but at this point, Paige would do anything to get rid of the unwanted magic. “Do you really think so?” She exhaled a heavy breath, some of the tension easing from her body.

“I do.” He offered her a supportive smile and got to his feet. “I’ll do some research when I get back to the office and let you know in a couple of days.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” She stood and led him to the main area of the shop, unlocking the glass door so he could leave.

#

Aidan St. Claire tucked his hands into the pockets of his brown leather jacket. He watched the business entrance of the large brownstone building across the street. The Petite Broom’s carved wooden sign swayed above the door in the biting December breeze. Since the store didn’t open for another ten minutes, he shuffled his feet back and forth, trying to stay warm.

When the door opened, he stepped back into the alleyway, huddling beside a brick wall to keep from being seen. He hadn’t expected to see Harker McCrary, a low-level coven council member, walk out of the shop. Nor had he expected to see Paige—the reason he was standing here freezing numerous body parts off—follow him outside.

He would have liked to overhear their conversation, but from this distance, and without using any magic, it was impossible. She’d neglected to wear any protection from the frigid temperature and rubbed her hands along the thin fabric of a long-sleeved, silk blouse. Her smile was a mixture of gratitude and excitement. Before the tall, lanky man departed, she rose on her toes and gave him a quick hug, which he seemed more than happy to return.

Jealousy when it came to Paige Westbrooke wasn’t a new emotion and had Aidan clenching his gloved fists. According to his sister, Alex, Paige wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, so what was she doing hanging all over the healer?

He remained hidden for another five minutes, torn between following Harker and questioning him about his relationship with Paige, and doing the job Margaret Westbrooke had hired him to do: keep an eye on her daughter.

Before leaving town to spend time with her other daughter, Margaret had stopped by the agency’s office to discuss obtaining their services to discreetly look after Paige until she returned. She’d informed him Paige had been acting strangely, almost as if she were afraid of something. Margaret had been concerned her daughter might still be struggling with what had happened the day she’d been abducted by the wolflike creatures created by Trevor Mitchell, a recently deceased warlock, thanks to Alex.

Aidan had been more than happy to help Margaret, and not just because of his feelings for Paige. The woman was kind, generous, and very perceptive. From the time he was a teenager, and after his parents’ death, she’d been more of a mother to him and his sister than a caring family friend.

He’d also refused to take her money but assured her he would look after her daughter personally. A task he knew would be tougher than going after a magically inclined criminal on one of his more dangerous cases.

Three years ago, Margaret told him, actually shocked the hell out of him, when she’d encouraged him to pursue his feelings for Paige. He would have taken her advice if Paige didn’t bristle like an irritated porcupine every time he got within ten feet of her.

After waiting for a few cars to drive past and the road to clear, he hurried across the street. Once inside the store, he scanned the numerous shelves filled with herbs, candles, and an assortment of healing charms but didn’t see any sign of Paige.

“Paige,” he called out as he walked around the first display counter on his right and found her kneeling on the floor, picking up pieces of broken glass. He got a great view of her well-defined backside beneath the snug contours of a navy-blue skirt. “Is everything okay?”

She flipped several thick golden strands over her shoulder. Without turning around, and without offering him any kind of cordial greeting—not that he’d expected one—she asked, “What do you want, Aidan?” She continued tossing the shards into the small metal trash can sitting next to her on the floor.

Truthfully, what he really wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her until the memory of Paige with her arms around Harker faded from his thoughts. “I stopped by to see if those potions I special ordered had arrived.” Not that he needed any more liquids or powders. His shelves were stocked—more than a little full—but he’d needed a decent reason to visit the shop.