Hell's Belles. Jackie Kessler

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      I thumbed through a magazine while I waited for Caitlin’s potion to brew. The cover story promised to teach me “ten tantalizing tips” guaranteed to drive my partner wild. I had to see what passed for “tantalizing” these days. I was willing to bet it didn’t include snakes and honey.

      “Here we go.”

      I glanced up to see Caitlin gliding up to me, mopping back her unruly black curls, looking incredibly proud. In her hand, steam wafted from a large mug. About time. It had taken her a half hour to gather and mix all the ingredients, and nearly two hours for it to do the fire-burn-and-cauldron-bubble thing. I didn’t know how long slumming in Salem, hidden in a witch’s house, would disguise my presence from my hunter; with every passing moment, my unease had grown. But now it looked like the waiting was about to pay off.

      Setting the magazine aside, I frowned at the cup as she thrust it at me. “What’s that smell?”

      “Number of things. Moth’s cocoon, egg, milk, powdered ivory. Blood, of course. Mercury, but there’s no smell to that. Water, a tampon—”

      “It’s the milk,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Ick. How do you people stand that?”

      She looked affronted, as if I’d pointed out a pile of fresh dog turds on her area rug. “Dairy’s an important food group. You need milk.”

      “Sure, if you’re a baby cow. Ugh, revolting stuff.” Making a face, I peered inside the mug. The potion stank to high Heaven, and it looked just as appetizing. Brown with white funguslike flecks, the liquid was just thick enough for me to make out the congealing blood, but still watery overall. “And this looks like it came out from the baby cow’s other end.”

      “It’s Gala Tea.”

      I shook my frosted, flipped mane of hair. “Never heard of it.”

      “Actually, the full name is ‘Potion of Pygmalion.’ The nickname’s just some witching humor. You know, Pygmalion the sculptor? From the myth? Prayed to Aphrodite for a wife just like the statue he carved, and Aphrodite brought the sculpture to life? He named the statue Galatea.” Her full lips twitched into a smile. “Get it? Galatea, Gala Tea?”

      “Sweetie,” I said after a long pause, “don’t quit your day job.”

      “You don’t have to be mean about it,” she mumbled.

      I blew out a sigh, lifting my bangs away from my eyes. “What, you expect me to be nice? I’m a demon.”

      “Not after you drink this, you’re not. Now look, here’s the thing: this will transform you into whatever your outer image is. So unless you want to be stuck looking like a one-time star of jiggle television, you should probably rethink your appearance.”

      I raised my arms high and let a ripple of power wash over me. My hair curled and darkened until it was a thick, tangled mass framing a round face with wide green eyes, a sharp nose, and a mouth with cupid-bow lips. My breasts diminished a cup size, and my frame shrank until I was a petite woman of five-foot-four, small and lean instead of tall and curvy. When I grinned, my teeth clamped down in a slight overbite. Sayonara, Farrah. Hello, Caitlin.

      The look on her face was priceless. I didn’t know if it was because I was wearing her form or because I was naked. She yelled, “Stop that!”

      I blew her a kiss. “First give me the potion.”

      “Fine,” she said, shoving the cup into my hands. “Here. Now would you please change into something else? And put on some clothes?”

      “In a moment.” The nauseating stench of sweet milk emanating from the mug made me want to gag. “How’s this work? I drink it, and poof, I’m mortal?”

      Frowning at me, she seemed lost between answering my question and being annoyed at my temporary appearance. Her pride in her abilities won out. Seven deadly sins—got to love them. “Well, not exactly.” She ran her fingers through her hair, brushing thick curls away from her face. “It will lock you into mortal form. No soul, of course. But still human. So you’ll have to take care of all your human needs.”

      “Like sex?” I perked up. “I can do that.”

      “That’s СКАЧАТЬ