Evan put some salve on the healed-over scratches on his chest. They'd better not scar. Nothing would be worse than having a reminder of how weak he had been in front of the witch.

She stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a simple floral robe and matching gown. It was light and shifted around her curves as she moved towards him. She climbed onto the bed, kneeling behind him, took her fingers, and dipped them into the salve beside him.

She didn't say anything. Why wasn't she saying anything? Evan tried to breathe normally as she rubbed his tender back. He closed his eyes. He never knew having someone around to rub his back would be so...nice. Even his own family wouldn't do this for him. Hell, he'd get shamed for getting into this position in the first place. And how pissed would his father be?

Rather than think about that, he focused on the gentle touch of the witch's fingertips.

"Not getting more of your magic into me, are you?" he said playfully.

She groaned and tapped a fresh bandage onto his back.

"Sure did. You'll sprout pixie wings in three days' time," she deadpanned.

He looked back at her and made sure her eyes were still hazel, just in case. He got up from the bed and pulled on a t-shirt.

"I'll change out the sheets for you, it'll be a minute," he said as he headed towards his closet.

"Okay, I'll start stripping the bed."

He smiled as he pulled out the sheets and some fresh blankets. He was going to have to set up the couch for himself to sleep on downstairs. He was not looking forward to that. He turned around to see the witch folding up the spare linens.

They worked together to remake the bed and after he was finished, he headed downstairs. He threw his own blanket and pillow on the couch. Maybe he would be able to get some sleep, even with the witch around. At least she wouldn't be in the midst of some sexual fantasy this time. Her scent was still in the apartment though, like a gentle perfume.

He looked at the books on his table. The last thing he wanted to do was screw this up with her again. He got up, picked up a wooden spoon and his fireplace poker, and went upstairs.

She was pulling the duvet back when she looked back to see him. Her eyes went wide.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Sorry, I just remembered. You need these under the bed, right?"

She looked at him as if she didn't understand.

"Oh. I guess the bed is made of wood, so maybe you only need the iron?"

She crossed her arms. "Let me guess, you got that tidbit of info from those books downstairs?"

"Well, yeah."

"That's a bunch of nonsense."

Evan suddenly felt very embarrassed. More so than he did after getting cut up by the werewolf. All he knew about witches he had learned from his father and his books. It was impossible to fact-check anything with all witches living in isolated covens. 

The witch sighed. "It's okay. You didn't know. There's a lot I don't know about vampires too."

"I guess I can't argue with that."

She sat back on the bed and pursed her lips. Was she expecting him to say anything? He didn't want to. He'd do or say something stupid again and then she'd lock herself in his bathroom. That wasn't how he wanted to spend this time with her. He wanted to...he wasn't sure.

"How long do you think I'll have to stay here?"

His heart dropped. "I don't know. I can check on the store tomorrow night and see if it's safe. Is that okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks a lot, really."

He couldn't help but smile when she did.

"No problem, sleep tight."

"You too, and please don't read those silly books anymore."

Evan chuckled and headed for his couch. That witch. He heard her shift around and get comfortable. He did the same, and before he knew it, he fell asleep.

At sunset, he found the witch messing around on her phone while still in his bed. All he could see was the phone in her hands, the rest of her lost under the duvet and pillows. Damn, he came up here so he could talk to her and see if she'd stay with him again, but now he was itching to crawl into bed with her. He knocked on the banister to get her attention.

She poked her head out of its cotton cave, revealing a twisted mane of wild curls that escaped her braid. Obviously, even sober she slept wildly. She gave him a slight smile.

"Your hair is all crazy," she said.

"You're one to talk," he said back. She flutily tried to pull it back and pat it down with no effect.

"Selene is wondering if I'll be opening the store tonight. What do you think I should tell her?"

Evan wished he could say 'Tell her you won't be and that you'll be staying with me where it's safe', but he knew he couldn't. Besides, the witch had proven strong enough to fend for herself once she put her mind to it. Asking her to stay would be selfish, but telling her to go off and open her store would be just as bad. He didn't want to lie to her.

"Well, what do you think?" he said, leaning on the wall.

She hummed. "Do you think the alpha would bring his pack?"

"Maybe, but honestly, I doubt it. I don't think he'll be going anywhere until his canine grows back. If he did, you have enough of your incense to keep him away, right?"

She pursed her lips and looked to be mentally counting on her fingers.

"Maybe?" she said with a slight chuckle. "Not the best, but I'd rather not keep putting you out like this."

He shook his head.

"I don't mind. Really. Stay for as long as you want." He immediately regretted being so forward. He probably sounded desperate. He was desperate and if she stayed maybe he could take the time to figure out why.

"Oh? Those blood contracts of yours come with room and board now too?" She said with a playful grin.

He laughed to disguise his embarrassment.

"I'll let Selene know that I won't be there to open the store but...I'd like to go back and get some more clothes and a few other things," she said.

She was staying. Another day. Another chance for him to prove himself to her so she would agree to his proposal.

"I can go pick up the items for you. You shouldn't go out at night without a charm, and I don't think you brought one, right?"

Evan unlocked the door to Scented Sticks. Everything was as it was the night they left. Blood had stained the floor, and some items were lying on their sides on display tables. It was a sign no one else had been there. Good.

When he got upstairs, he checked his phone. The witch had sent him a list of things for him to pick up for her. It took some doing, but after a million promises, she gave him the key to the store and her apartment. In her closet, he pulled out the two dresses she wanted. Both were black and plain— like they were part of the costume she wore while working. He folded them and put them in a duffle. There was a garment bag shoved into the back of the closet, as far as it could possibly go. It was the dress he had bought her.

He sighed and then proceeded with the list. As promised, he closed his eyes while he reached into her underwear drawer and threw the first things he grabbed into the bag. He packed more things, some charms, deodorant, a hairbrush, some special pink bottle with no label, and her novel. Then, he headed back to his apartment.

She was sitting on his couch with a book in her hands when he walked through the door. Her hair was wet and draped over a towel on her shoulders. Evan noticed that the smell that he had found back in her apartment had started to permeate his own, making even his cold space feel homey.

"I got your things," he said when she didn't look towards him. He shut the door behind him.

"Gods! Whoever this George person is, I'd like to have a few words with him!"

She was reading the books he had been looking over a few days ago. He didn't find the cure to the magic poisoning his body, but he didn't think they were useless. Those same texts were the ones his tutors had raised him on, the same all vampires were taught. So the thing about a witch needing to sleep on iron and wood was wrong, that didn't mean the rest was.

The witch got up and brought the book to him. She pushed it into his chest and took the duffle. "I swear I'll sue."

"I believe he's already dead."

"Not good enough," she pouted. "No wonder business has been so slow. People might actually believe my magic is cursed. Isn't that horrible?"

Evan didn't know what to say. He was one of the people she was talking about. It only made sense, didn't it? Witches weren't really supposed to exist, of course their powers would be cursed.

She narrowed her eyes at him and a slight pepperiness came into the air.

"You don't believe that garbage, do you?"

"Well..."

What a fumble that was. The witch stomped off and went back to the couch. She pulled out her novel and hid her face behind it. He followed and sat in the seat across from her.

"Didn't you believe vampires were how you read them in that?"

She sighed heavily.

"I think there's a big difference to being thought of as this," she pointed to the half-naked vampire on the novel's cover. "And some despicable hag creature that lives in a cave."

"I don't know if they go quite that far..."

"You really think I'm in the business of selling curses?"

"Not consciously, no."

She gasped and hid behind her book again.

"Can you blame me? Look what you did to my hand." She didn't move. He moved to sit beside her. Still nothing.

"I'm serious. No matter how much blood I drank, it just wouldn't heal right."

She finally peeked from her book and looked at his hand. The air went still, and the bitter scent surrounding her faded.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean for that to happen, really, but that doesn't mean my magic is cursed. I know that for a fact."

"How? You're self-taught, aren't you? You've never met another witch, so no one could tell you otherwise. This—" he held up the book. "Has been considered fact for thousands of years."

"I'll have you know, that the one witch I have met did teach me a few things, the most important being this: magic is all about instinct and intent. And I never intend for my magic to hurt anyone, only repel. Selene and I have used my charms for years without any ill effect, how do you explain that?"

Evan didn't know what to say. It was hard to believe there was another witch outside of a coven wandering around the continent. She was the only witch he had ever met, so maybe she did know better than he did. Selene and even her customers didn't seem to be affected by the witch's magic. Maybe it had to be ingested or injected, like what happened with his hand.

"Exactly," she said, guessing his answer.

"Hang on, it's not like you haven't assumed things about me."

"Don't start projecting, I haven't accused you of anything that bad. That wasn't true, I mean."

"Oh? I recall you doubting I couldn't feed without draining, as if I were a wild animal," he said.

She looked at the book on her lap. "Is that even relevant anymore? I believe you, obviously I wouldn't have offered you my blood yesterday if I didn't."

"But you were scared. I could smell it on you, you don't really believe me."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

He smiled at that.

" 'Actions speak louder than words', that's what mortals say, don't they? Well, let's see if little witch Vicki is a liar." He leaned closer to her, passing her shoulder, and then tilted his head under her chin. He felt her breath catch as his nose brushed just under her ear. He could smell her nerves, and he knew if they had been back in her store, she would have stabbed him by now. This was a game he enjoyed. What would her face look like when she inevitably pulled away? His fangs came out easily, and he slid them across her neck only enough to tickle. Her heart was racing, and he braced himself when she finally raised her hands and put them on his shoulders.

But instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer. One of his fangs caught on her skin from the surprise and the slightest drop of her blood crossed his lips.

And it was good —like the explosion of sweet and tart that came from a fresh summer strawberry, it tingled and danced over his tongue before fading away.

What was he supposed to do now? This wasn't part of his plan. He just wanted to tease her and prove his point. Should he feed on her? Just a little, so he could prove he could stop himself? He could manage that, right?

If he had to ask, he already knew the answer.

He allowed himself to lick the small nick on her neck and pull away. He thought she'd be upset with him, or frightened, but the grin spread over her face was one of obvious triumph.

"And the verdict?" she asked.

He looked at her. This strange little witch was something.

Something he wanted to figure out while he had the time to.

"Let me take you to dinner. You can change or wear that, I don't care which as long as you put on your succubus necklace. And before you decline, I have credit for two sunrises now."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Fine, give me a few minutes."