Trickery by Sabrina York

Chapter One
     
    “You can’t be serious, Willow.” Skylar Skarsgård tipped her head and gazed over her shaded glasses at the waiter…just as he bent to pick up a heavy box. Two things were supremely evident--his bulging pecs and his tight, firm ass. “He is yummy,” she murmured reflectively. She recalled herself and turned to glare at her protégé, her albatross. “The Council would have a fit. And not just because you plan to seduce a mortal.”
    “But he’s so hot.” Willow wriggled in her chair just to emphasize the point.
    Skylar ignored her. Ignored her bouncing red curls and glittering green eyes. The pink tongue dabbing at bow-shaped lips. For a moment, she envied Willow’s zest for life, the enthusiasm of the young. But then she remembered her own trials during her early years and snorted. There were costs. In all things. Willow would learn this. Life would temper her. It always did. Skylar hoped the lessons wouldn’t be too painful for Willow…or come too late.
    There was a lot at stake here and the burden was on Skylar to make sure disaster didn’t descend. Trouble was, Willow—darling, daring, impetuous Willow—was disaster waiting to happen.
    “You simply cannot use your magic to seduce him. It’s against the rules.”
    Willow put out a lip. “It’s not fair.”
    “No. It’s not.” Most novitiates completed this phase of their training well before they hit puberty, when sexual energy was easily reined in, channeled. Willow had been discovered late. Extremely late. But it had been a joyous discovery for the coven, for the entire Witching World. In a time when technology seemed to be snuffing magic out, it was a miracle to find pure, unbridled and true talent.
    Skylar shot a look at her protégé. Well. Perhaps the talent could have been a little more bridled.
    She sighed. Willow was a trial. She was willful and impatient and stubborn and, dear Gaia, horny. But the Congregation needed her. Her talent, her magic. Her power. She was the secret to their survival. The Auspices had so decreed.
    “It’s not my fault I can’t attract men in the normal way anymore. I don’t understand why Midea had to make me this hideous.” Willow mangled a paper napkin, her attention fixed on the waiter. Skylar could smell her arousal.
    She forced her lips into something akin to a smile and patted Willow’s hand. She understood the girl’s pain. When she—or any of the Sisters—looked at Willow, they saw her true self, a bubbly, charming, beautiful woman, a truly talented witch. What others saw, what mortal humans saw, well, it wasn’t pretty. Chin hairs and back fat and googly eyes. No wonder men barely noticed her. Midea had certainly outdone herself with this spell. The Great Mother Witch was determined to keep her little treasure pure.
    “Your obscurity protects you, Willow. And not just from random, unworthy men who will want you.”
    “And what if I want them?”
    “What part of unworthy don’t you understand? Soon you’ll be an Enchantress. You’ll take the vows. You have an obligation to propagate the magic. You can’t just fuck any old,” she waggled her fingers in the vague direction of the screeching espresso machine, “coffee vendor.”
    “That coffee vendor is hot .”
    “Yes. He is.” He was. Extraordinarily so. He would have to be, to snag Skylar’s attention. She’d been a member of the Congregation for more years than she could count. She’d lost her taste for mortal men, ordinary men. And so would Willow—even super-hot coffee vendors with—dear Gaia. Was he flexing his bicep?
    Oh. He was.
    Skylar studied the bulging, veined muscles for a moment, let her gaze drift to the cut abs visible through his tight tee shirt. A little drool pooled in her mouth.
    She shook her head. What was she thinking? Ah yes. Willow. She, too, would lose her interest in mundane men. If she could just be patient.
    It would only take a hundred years or so.
    “Darling, that boy is not for