Jingle Spell Rock (Moonlight Siren #6)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

brIA

Six days before Christmas

The Celestial Lounge was humming with enthusiasm by the time I stepped onto the stage.

Outside the panoramic windows, the Caribbean night glittered with bright stars scattered across the sky.

Inside, fairy lights curled through palm garlands and poinsettias, transforming the ship into a floating winter wonderland—or a snow globe adrift at sea.

My role? To bring the holiday magic to life.

Gold sequins shimmered against my skin as I took the mic and nodded to the piano player, Rick. The first notes of “Jingle Spells” rolled out, my cheeky take on the classic. The supernatural crowd laughed at the play of magic in the song.

I added a little sway to my hips before I raised my hands and circled them, as if I was casting a spell.

Soft snowflakes fell, and each one glowed faintly blue and silver and melted before touching the floor.

The audience gasped and reached for them, marveling as the enchanted snow vanished before reaching their fingertips.

I caught Maribelle’s eye across the room. Her silvery curls bounced as she turned to her bear shifter mate, Roan, and grinned like a proud parent. Her spell had worked.

When our bosses on the Moonlight Siren cruise line had asked staff to add more holiday cheer to this week’s sailing, I’d brainstormed with Maribelle, a witch who worked at the spa. Passengers would join us over Christmas for various reasons—some to escape the cold, others to escape their families.

“I know just the thing for your opening night.” Her eyes twinkled with excitement. “Glowing snowflakes falling from above. Even if we’re sailing the Caribbean, we can have a hint of a white Christmas inside.”

As I continued singing, moving from table to table, magical snowflakes drifted down. The crowd marveled. A few couples rose to dance and twirled around on the dance floor. The wintry touch was perfect.

We transitioned into an upbeat version of “I Put a Spell on You,” and I kept my voice sassy yet sultry.

A trio of witches cheered and then sauntered onto the dance floor as if they were the Sanderson Sisters in Hocus Pocus.

They stepped behind me and coordinated their backup dance as if they’d rehearsed this many times.

I laughed and encouraged them. Although I didn’t like to share the attention on stage, they weren’t attempting to upstage me. Besides, the audience was having a great time, cheering with applause. It set the ideal vibe for the week.

Once the song ended, I said, “How about a round of applause for our special guests tonight?”

The crowd cheered some more, the ladies bowed, and then they returned to their seats.

Rick and I slowed it down for the next song, “Winter Wonderland,” and this time, Maribelle used her spell to make the snowflakes appear to circle the lounge horizontally.

Our performance was going just as we’d planned.

A sliver of heat sliced through the air. It wasn’t from the stage lights. I teetered and almost lost my balance, but from what? It didn’t feel like the ship had stuttered beneath my feet. I played off my wobble with a little shimmy.

Where did that come from? It felt like energy. A vibration. Magic.

I scanned the room, searching for the source.

And zoomed in on him.

A man stood near the back, half in shadow. Dark blond hair. Darker suit. A stillness that didn’t belong to humans. Power coiled around him like smoke. When his gaze met mine, my lungs forgot to function.

The falling snowflakes brightened for an instant, catching the golden sparks in his eyes.

My panther stirred inside. Not with apprehension. Just a curious awareness.

I dragged my eyes from this stranger to finish my song, widening my smile to hide my confusion.

My pulse raced as I continued the performance, telling myself not to look at him. Don’t look.

I failed. Three times. And each time I met his gaze, the hotter I burned under the stage lights.

Rick and I finished our set. I bowed, thanked them, and winked. “May you all find a little magic on the Moonlight Siren tonight.”

The applause rose and whistles bounced off the vast windows. They loved it. I basked in the spotlight for a few seconds longer before stepping off the stage. Several supernaturals circled me, chatting for several minutes. I asked if they were enjoying the cruise and the usual ship small talk.

Once they filtered out, I headed to the bar where Kylie had my usual post-show drink waiting—a pina colada with extra pineapple and a cherry. Her blue-streaked hair glowed under the bar lights, and her eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Nice touch with the snowflakes,” she said.

“Maribelle’s handiwork,” I replied and thanked her for the drink. I turned to search for her. “Where did she go?”

“Who knows?” Kylie shrugged. “It’s a big ship. Lots to do.”

I nodded. “I’ll have to beg her to repeat her spell for the Christmas Eve show.”

Kylie laughed. “Careful what you wish for. Remember what she did to Van?”

“How could I forget?” She’d pranked Van Tyrian, the singer for the ship’s rock band, one night, making him bray like a donkey or bleat like a sheep, among other embarrassing outbursts.

I took a sip of my drink. “Mmm, this is delicious.” An echo of that strange heat from the stage crawled across my skin again.

Someone was watching me.

I looked up and there he was across the bar.

The man from the shadows with intense eyes.

Heat rippled through me. My panther rose inside, curious, urging me to move closer.

Settle down, I told her. Yes, he’s hot. So what?

Nothing new. I’d met my share of supernaturals since joining the Moonlight Siren, with more than enough hitting on me week after week.

Some promised me the moon, the stars, but I knew better by now.

I was past forty now and beyond falling for false promises.

They’d chase me for me for a night, maybe two.

But it was never real. Nothing more than a fling that ended when the vacation was over.

Sure, a brief encounter here and there was fun.

But a long-lasting relationship? No. To me, that was just make-believe.

He moved toward me, and I ceased breathing. Tall and broad-shouldered, his suit fit like sin over his smooth muscles. His amber-gold eyes fixed on me, flashing with a shifter’s glow as he approached. Slowly. Steadily.

My pulse tripped. My panther went still, silent and waiting.

Only feet away now.

Dragon shifter, I guessed. From the mesmerizing hue of his eyes to the way he moved so sinuously under that suit.

I inhaled to make sure. His scent tickled my nostrils—smoke, spice, and definitely dragon. The world tilted. My heart slammed against my ribs.

My panther purred, deep and resonant.

Mate.

The word split through me like a crack of lightning.

No. Absolutely not.

I gripped the bar to steady myself. The lounge seemed too bright, too loud. Kylie said something I didn’t catch. I tried to focus on anything to ground me. A few final snowflakes drifted down and vanished.

Maribelle. Her spell must have misfired. Maybe she’d mixed in a little love charm by mistake.

Or on purpose. Some sort of love potion?

When I searched around, nothing confirmed that. Sure, some couples were being affectionate, but nothing out of the ordinary. No one was attempting to climb a partner like a tree the way my cat was purring inside.

Because the alternative—the idea that fate just walked into my lounge in the form of a dragon shifter with golden eyes—was impossible. And dangerous.

“Bria, did you hear me?” Kylie’s voice cut through the noise.

“What?” I turned to her, confused.

“I just introduced you to Darius Morand.” She pointed to my glass. “You’re drinking his rum right now.”

I blinked as I tried to figure out what she was talking about. Was rum a euphemism for something dirty? My cheeks heated.

“In your pina colada,” she explained. “Darius owns a rum distillery.”

His intense eyes remained locked on mine, but now they flickered with amusement. As if he knew what I’d been wrestling with.

“Bria, so very nice to meet you. What an absolute pleasure to meet the siren behind the voice.” he said, his voice a rich, smoldering baritone.

When he reached for my hand, I braced myself for the heat. With the way his scent unraveled me, I needed armor.

His fingers were warm, his touch deliberate, and I forced myself not to swoon lest I tumble off the stool. He raised my hand to his lips and brushed them over my fingers. The air crackled with energy.

His self-assured expression faltered.

His eyes widened. Nostrils flared.

And in that instant, I knew—he felt it too.