Something About Witches (26 page)

A rap on the door made her wince as she realized she’d left the door to the cottage open, but then she snarled at herself.
You will do this, Ruby. Pull your shit together.
If there was one thing her mother had taught her, it was the power of enduring the unbearable.

When she stepped into the sitting area, she saw the last person she expected. And it pulled the rug right out from beneath her. Not that she was going to be competing for Weeble of the Year at this point. She was getting knocked on her ass left and right, and it was getting harder and harder to come back up.

Mikhael was studying his surroundings, his hands in the pockets of his tailored black slacks. He was wearing his sunglasses, the artful strands of hair playing across his forehead. Having shed his suit coat in his car, apparently, he had the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up, the neckline open to show his strong throat. Her heart started pounding, the headache behind her eyes weakening her knees.

“I was in the area,” he commented, as if it was entirely normal for him to show up in the backwoods of Florida. He tilted his head to look at her. “You did not answer my call.”

“No.”

He sauntered forward a couple steps, and she jumped, she couldn’t help herself. Removing the sunglasses, he considered her from head to toe with dark brown eyes. “Frightened, little rabbit? Perhaps you should be.”

She swallowed. “I can’t do this here. It’s time for us to walk away. Like we said at the beginning.”

“Like
I
said at the beginning. I do the walking, not you. I can see the need written all over you. You are hurting for it.”

The fact it was true only made it more awful, because she knew she hurt for it so she wouldn’t have to face what she really wanted. Derek’s scent was in her nose. The impression of his shoulder, the faint crease from the fold of his shirt, were still there on her cheek. But she had to prove she could do that Great Rite, had to have the balance for it. Right? The solution might be standing in front of her. Or the road to Hell.

Hadn’t Mikhael said that this was already Hell?

He was moving toward her. “No,” she said, the word catching in her throat. This was wrong, but that Dark part of her was reaching eagerly for him, craving what he could give her. Pulling her back from the unacceptable temptation of pancakes and the illusion of safety, of healing. Of love.

The moan as he clamped his mouth down on hers was part despair, part sharp-edged lust, that constant need surging up to meet him. With Mikhael, kissing was more like branding, but of course that made her think of that barn fantasy, Derek lifting the branding iron. She actually felt a tingle go through her shoulder. As if he knew he was fighting an unseen foe, Mikhael’s teeth scraped hers and his fingers bit into her arms, bruising with his strong grip. When she struggled to get closer, he shoved her back against the wall, sliding his fingers down into her loose jeans, under the panties. She was wet, helpless and trembling. Catching her belt loops, he stared at her with those cold eyes. “You will stand still.”

She put her head back against the plaster, her palms flat against it. Tears were gathering in her eyes, but it was all right. She needed this. She had to have it.

He struck her across her right cheek, rocking her head to the left so her neck tendons popped at the sudden jerk. Catching her shirtfront, he ripped it down the middle and off her shoulders, yanking her bra straps so she was exposed to him. His eyes flamed at the sight of her breasts, full, the
nipples tight, tight as the ache in her gut. When he lifted his hand again, she forced herself to keep her eyes on it, knowing he would strike her on the left cheek as well. Mikhael was all about balance, after all.

She closed her eyes at the last second. The blow landed, pain exploding in her cheek, but at the same moment, there was a snarl like an enraged bear. Her eyes flew open in time to see Derek catch Mikhael’s arm, spin him around, and slam a fist in his jaw.

The gunrunner was actually lifted off his feet by the blow, no small feat since the men were the same impressive size. Mikhael hit her small kitchenette, sending table and chairs spinning, crashing with a cacophony against the walls and floor. As Mikhael landed with them, she registered another snarl, a large body hurtling past Derek.

Mikhael made his living through violence. He was already rolling to his feet, and when he saw the dog, in the same motion he’d pulled his Walther. The gun fired.

“No
.
”
Ruby screamed it, lunging forward. She wasn’t cognizant of what happened in those next two seconds, but when her mind cleared, she was being held hard around the waist by Derek, her flailing feet off the ground, his body turned so she was not in Mikhael’s direct line of fire. Theo was lying on the floor, motionless.

“No, no,
no
.” She struggled against him, such that Derek had to snarl her name to draw her attention.

“Ruby.
Ruby
.” He gave her a shake painful enough to bring her gaze up to his fierce eyes. “He’s asleep. Sandman spell.”

Her attention flitted back to the dog. An absurd snore broke from Theo, powerful enough to make the loose upper lip quiver, giving her a hint of the teeth that had been fully bared a moment before.

“He fired….”

Derek nodded. Showed her his other hand. He had a burn mark where the hot projectile had marked him, but the bullet was firmly in his grasp. “I rerouted it,” he murmured.

Mikhael rose to his feet, holstering the Walther under his shoulder again. His expression was remarkably indifferent as he studied the two of them.

“So, this is the one you have been running from. He caught up to you, did he?”

Derek glanced at Ruby. “You
know
him? But he was….” His attention slid down her face, which she was sure showed the mark of Mikhael’s skillful backhand, to the tattered front of her shirt. Realizing she was exposed, she wrapped it around her best as she could, but her cheeks were burning shamefully.

“No need to hide what we’ve both seen and enjoyed,” Mikhael remarked.

“Shut. Up.” Derek was staring at Ruby hard. When he at last shifted his gaze to the other male, she wasn’t sure who the contempt in his gaze was for. “Mikhael Roman.”

“Derek.” The gunrunner lifted a brow. “Had I known I was feeding at your trough, I might have had second thoughts. Or maybe not. Sometimes the forbidden is too tempting, hmm? And she seemed to want something from me you could not provide.”

“What she wants and what she needs are two different things.”

“Forever making choices for others, are we? Be careful, Derek. When you make those decisions, you are trying to own her soul. Can you handle the responsibility of owning someone’s soul?”

“A hell of a lot better than you can.”

Ruby watched the byplay between the two men, with no idea where to interject or how. The fact they knew each other, the situation itself, had her speechless. She wanted to go to Theo. Thinking he might have been shot before her eyes made her need to touch him. But Derek was holding her wrist like a steel manacle.

“Ah, the dilemma of what kind of master it takes to hold a strong woman’s heart. For a woman like her needs a
master.” Mikhael shrugged. “But this is not my concern. My interest was in her cunt, and how far her desires would drive her to sate it. She was a pleasure to me, but the pleasure appears to be at an end.”

“Yeah. That’s a wise decision.”

Mikhael gave him a speculative look. “She bears my marks, sorcerer. Sometimes scars are left on the outside as well as inside. One in particular, on her very delectable ass. You may have noticed it if you’ve taken her from behind since you’ve gotten back into her bed.”

“Get out. Now.” Derek’s voice was capable of dropping the temperature in the cottage by ten degrees. Mikhael met his eyes in challenge, but then he inclined his head. He looked toward Ruby.

“
Do svidaniya,
Ruby. If you have need of me, our paths will cross again. I’m sure I will enter your dark dreams on occasion, as I am sure you will mine.”

“Out,” Derek said. “Or I’ll shove that gun up your ass and pull the trigger.”

“You can try, sorcerer.” Mikhael gave him a cool nod. Stepping over Theo without a glance at the dog, he moved past them and out the door.

“Derek—” She let out a gasp as he let go of her, but only to shove her down against the still-standing kitchenette table. Catching the waistband of her jeans, he yanked at them to expose the upper curve of her buttock. “Stop.”

She closed her eyes as he touched it. His heat and anger were at her back like a storm boiling up on the horizon. There was a mirror on the wall behind the table, now cracked from where one of the chairs had hit it. Even though she told herself not to look, she did. He was staring down at the mark, but then his eyes lifted, met hers. She managed, just barely, not to flinch, because the expression in his eyes was as if he were looking at someone he didn’t even know. And no matter how true that was, it hurt like hell to see it.

“You’re right. You don’t need to be here anymore. I’ll do
the Great Rite with Linda. We’ll deal with this later, but I don’t need this shit right now. Get your things and get out of here. You’re no use to us on this.”

He let her go so abruptly she sagged against the wood surface. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the cottage, leaving her bent over the table, her feet braced against Theo’s back. The pain in her gut was so intense it cramped, made it hard for her to straighten. She didn’t want to straighten. She just wanted to lie here with her cheek on the wood and not ever move again. Then she heard Linda’s shout, and the other women crying out in alarm.

Shoving off the table, she tripped over the prone Theo, and stumbled toward the door. On her way, she discarded the tattered shirt and snatched up the hoodie. When she got it zipped, she bolted out onto the lawn.

Mikhael had reached his car, his black Ferrari with silver trim, but Derek had caught up with him there. She didn’t know if any words were exchanged. Somehow she doubted it. Derek reached the car, took off his hat, tossed it on the hood, and just hurled himself on the Russian.

No magic use, no guns. The two of them were using what appeared to be quite considerable and fairly well-matched hand-to-hand skills to beat the crap out of each other. Only Derek apparently had the advantage of stone-cold fury. A punch was answered with a kick; then they were grappling on the ground. Then Mikhael was flipped over Derek’s head and they were back on their feet. Blood was coming from Mikhael’s nose, but it looked like he’d planted a solid fist in Derek’s right eye.

Ruby caught up with Linda, who stood at a safe distance with Christine, Jocelyn and Marie. Linda gave her a what-the-hell look, but then took in Ruby’s disheveled appearance. The hoodie might hide her state of dress, but there was no way to conceal the swelling marks on her face. Linda’s eyes narrowed and she turned that look onto Mikhael.

“No.” Ruby forced it out through stiff lips. “It’s not like that, Linda. Let me handle this.”

Linda put a quelling hand on her arm. “That’s nothing any of us need to be in the middle of.” Fortunately, her grip was a lot less powerful than Derek’s, for Ruby twisted out of it with a shake of her head, and moved forward. “Stop it,” she shouted. “Both of you. Cut it
out
.”

The energy she used was like a Taser, the electric voltage hitting the ground between their feet, powerful enough to sing up the legs and grab their attention. When Mikhael gave her a startled look, Derek’s fist slammed into his jaw like a battering ram. The gunrunner hit the side of his car hard enough his elbow punched a spiderweb crack in the driver’s side window.

Ruby swore, took two steps and jumped on Derek’s back, locking her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. “Stop it,” she hissed in his ear. “Quit it, or I’ll get a hose and cool you down with it, cowboy.”

The tone worked on him where the voltage had not. Derek stopped, his chest heaving with temper and exertion, fists still clenched. Mikhael straightened from the car, wiping a hand carelessly at the blood under his nose. He glanced at the Ferrari’s window. “Beating on me is one thing. But the car is blasphemy.”

“Would you like to see what I can do to its paint job?” Ruby felt the energy gathering in Derek’s body. Quickly, she slid off his back and put herself in front of him, her back to Mikhael. Reaching up, she put both hands on the sorcerer’s face, bringing his eyes down to her.

“Enough,” she said, low. “Please. This is my fault. Not his.”

“You bear responsibility for your choices. He bears responsibility for his actions.”

“You owe me a favor,
cowboy
.” Mikhael spat blood into the dirt, his eyes sparking fire. “She stands against the angels. If not for me, Hell would already have claimed her.”

Ruby spun around, met his gaze. Though she saw nothing in his fathomless eyes but his usual indifference, there was more. A lot more. She felt it in a vibration of power that
pushed her back against Derek’s body like a sudden gust of noiseless wind, a heat that was not comfortable or reassuring, more like the brief sense of standing far too close to a furnace.

“But there is one shard of hope, Ruby. When Hell takes you, I will be there waiting.”

“Mikhael, get the hell out of here.” Derek spoke through stiff lips. “Or I swear by the Lord and Lady I will turn you into a greasy spot…. and take that car for my own.”

“Just be sure to have it painted white, Marshal Dillon. Remember, Hell loves shades of gray. So many things can happen amid the clouds of an approaching storm.” Those dangerous eyes fixed on Derek, and for a moment, something else was in them. No sarcasm, just deadly purpose. “Keep her close, sorcerer.”

Linda began to slide around Derek and Ruby, probably to give Mikhael a quiet and firm request to leave, to respect what was happening right now and go. Of one accord, Derek and Ruby reached out, latched onto her arm to hold her behind them.

With a brief, sensual smile that, remarkably, was capable of making that frisson of nerves still tingle through Ruby’s lower belly, Mikhael gave them a mocking nod. Opening the car door, he slid into the driver’s seat. As the door shut, he kept his eyes on her face. It made her remember every dark, overwhelming moment, every lick of pain and pleasure, and all the twisting range of emotions that had gone into those interludes. The spiderweb crack disappeared, as if a shimmer of water had run over it, taking it away and leaving the window whole again.