Hot in Witch City

Lisa Carlisle

Lisa Carlisle

I’m half-siren and all single. No way am I giving up my freedom for some delusional furball.

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Nova motioned behind her.

“And this is Sebastian.”

This guy was as dark as Lucas was light and had a full beard. His expression was dead serious, the opposite of Lucas’s friendly smile.

“Hey, Sebastian.” I greeted him with a pleasant smile.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared at me, and I sighed.

This wasn’t unusual. I attributed this effect to my siren blood. What exactly that meant, I didn’t know for sure.

My mother abandoned me soon after I was born and took with her all the answers to the questions about that side of me. I’d never forgive her for it.

His nostrils flared, and he gazed at me with curiosity, like I was an undiscovered flower species. Sebastian stepped closer—too close. Into my personal space. When he sniffed me, I backed away.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s you,” he declared with a fascinated but wary glance.

“You’re the one who’s been driving my wolf crazy.”

I huffed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sebastian, since we haven’t met until now.” Planting my hands on my hips, I said, “Quite an odd first impression, I might add.”

His eyes flashed with amber amid the dark brown, and he leaned closer.

“It’s your scent.” He inhaled once more. “I know it. I’ve smelled it at our house and—” he glanced around, “—here at the club.”

A low, vibrating growl rumbled from his chest. “Get yourself under control,” Lucas warned under his breath.

Holy tridents. I pointed at Sebastian’s chest. “Are you insane? You can’t let your animal side out in public.”

Sebastian’s eyes glowed brighter, almost golden, as he stared at me. He released a low, mournful moan that sounded more wolf than human.


“Oh no,” I groaned and stepped back. A possessive wolf.

“I’m most definitely not yours. And don’t even think about shifting in here.”