Ivory was a great person, but she had a ruthless streak when it came to guys. It was no surprise to Fiona. Ivory was a unique type of witch—she was a Siren, but not the mythical version who sat on rocks and made sailors drown. Sirens like Ivory used their powerful singing voices to infiltrate and bewitch. Also, they oozed sex and sensuality, drawing males to them.
Ivory resented that guys were so mesmerized by her surface beauty that they didn't look any further. It wasn't often that she chanced to have a relationship. If the guy repaid her by crossing her…it was never good.
Ivory's expression was all innocence. "I kind of put him into a deep sleep while I shaved him from head to toe, paying special attention to his back, sack, and crack." Typical Ivory, Fiona thought. "What did he do when he woke up?"
