Something About Witches (42 page)

“Would you want it?”

“I need you to answer me first.”

His jaw flexed. “Fair enough. I’d rather keep my family as far out of the range of danger as possible. But with respect to your abilities, I’d rather help you learn to use them to the
furthest extent you can, than be like your mother and tell you not to use them for my own selfish reasons.”

“You could never be like her.”

“My motives might be out of love, but it wouldn’t make them less wrong.”

Like what she’d done for the baby. His words came back to her, but they didn’t hurt so much, particularly when she saw how he was in fact struggling with accepting what the two of them being together, the way they wished, could mean. It would be difficult for him. But he truly wanted her with him. And that meant more to her than any gift he could ever give her.

“All right, then. Yes. I would love to go with you, see the things you see, fight at your side. Know I could be a help to you, and to those who need help. And I’d love to learn from you…. if you don’t get all overbearing and Mr. Know-It-All about everything.”

He grinned then, though his eyes remained serious. “But we could play stern schoolmaster and naughty student. I could conjure a ruler, or a paddle….”

“Who says we’d be playing?” Stretching her arms up around his neck, she met his mouth. Bringing her body up tight against his, she mashed her breasts against that hard chest. She wished he wasn’t wearing a shirt, so she could feel the pleasant rasp of his hair there against her smoothness. She had a feeling she wouldn’t have to wait long for that. He growled against her mouth, delved deep again, until he was hard and she was damp, both ready and wanting.

But at length, he raised his head. Derek was a man who didn’t lose sight of his objective. She was sure he was related to those large, slobbering hounds that tracked prisoners through swamps.

“How about this?” He nuzzled her throat. “We make ourselves a home, wherever you want it to be. North Carolina, the mountain cabin, it doesn’t matter. A place that’s ours, where we go to be us, a family. And we stay there for
a bit, give ourselves a real honeymoon. Then we’ll take it one step at a time. But you still have to say yes first. After that”—his head lifted, his gaze making her shiver deep inside in all the right places—“I’m not of a mind to give you many other choices about getting rid of me.”

A montage of memories passed through her mind. The way he’d squatted down to look under a table at a hurting little girl, holding a dead kitten. His quick, reassuring smile for an awkward teenager as she told him about that first boy crush. Bringing her a rare book on arcane theory she’d thought was out of print. Sending her postcards from different places, just short, funny notes, giving her a lifeline in a dark world.

When he visited her, he’d told her stories of his adventures. She knew he hadn’t truly been lying about the monk and the vampire queen, because it wasn’t the first story he’d told her about vampires. He’d provided magical teachings to another vampire, a solitary male who lived in the Sahara desert, apart from his own kind. The love of his life had been murdered, and Derek had helped the grief-stricken man preserve the body of the woman he loved, so he could visit her in her tomb and see her perfect and unchanged, year after year, until his heart could heal.

When he’d told her stories like that, he said she was the only one he’d ever shared them with. And she believed him, because he’d never lied to her.

As memorable as those times were, there were others that eclipsed them. Like that first moment his eyes had warmed on her and she knew he saw the woman she’d become, and wanted what he saw. Even when she’d been too uncertain of herself to realize just how much, to recognize a man falling in love. A man who wanted to spend his life with the woman he held in his eyes, his heart and soul.

She might not ever get over her incredulity that this complex, powerful man loved her, actually admitted to needing her in a way he’d never needed anyone, but she knew her
own feelings would never be in doubt. And she was done with being afraid of grabbing hold of the things she wanted most.

“Yes. Derek Stormwind, I will marry you. I will be your wife, as long as the Lord and Lady give us. And I promise to try and be someone you can depend upon, the way you’ve always tried to be there for me.”

“And no soul magic,” he said sternly. “Ever. I’m putting it in the vows.”

“Unless you refuse to be considerate. Leaving toilet lids up, forgetting to pick up your socks. Then I’ll hypnotize you and turn you into the male version of Martha Stewart.”

He raised a brow. “If I recall, you’re the one who leaves your clothes everywhere when you go to bed.”

“When you rip them off me,” she returned archly, her lips moving into a pout that quivered at the corners with laughter. “Who left a coffee ring on my side table because he couldn’t be bothered to get the coaster that was sitting less than ten feet from his big old booted feet? Which were
propped
on the coffee table, I might add—”

He kissed her again. She gave herself to it, flooded with the warmth and joy he offered, that she saw in his face from her decision. He loved her. He really, really, loved her, and wanted to be with her. She pushed his shirt off his broad shoulders, wanting to clutch that bare skin, tangle her fingers in his chest hair, kiss his neck when he was moving inside of her, over her, press her face there, hard. He tugged her skirt off her, their arms getting in each other’s way as she opened his jeans, tried to push them off his hips. Her arms weren’t long enough to reach beyond his taut ass, and that was a distraction she couldn’t resist, anyway, her palms sliding along the firm muscle to palm him there. He muttered an oath of need and got the rest of his clothes and hers out of their way so he could lie back down upon her.

“Now,” she breathed. “I’m ready for you now. Don’t wait. I need to feel you inside me, Derek.”

“You’re wet as you can be for me, girl,” he agreed, his eyes intent, his hand sliding through her folds, making her shudder and give a soft cry. “Wrap your legs high on my back. I want you to feel me deep.”

She obeyed, and held his gaze as he thrust, slowing himself only enough to make sure he didn’t bump into her too rough in the more open position. He always remembered things like that. Knew when to give her roughness, when to be gentle. Always. She realized then how much, in how many ways, she already trusted him. And the past few days had only expanded that feeling into even more vital areas.

“So, who do you want to be at our wedding?” She managed it in a breathless whisper as he bent to kiss her throat again. Working his way down toward her breast, he used one large hand to cup and tilt it up to his mouth. She gasped as he suckled the nipple, hungry for her. He lifted his head, though, his mouth wet with it. Met her gaze with eyes on fire with desire, the need to ride her to the finish.

“As long as you’re there, I don’t give a damn.” He put his head back down, then came back up, a breath away from taking possession of the nipple again. He gave her a narrow glance. “As long as Mikhael Roman isn’t on the guest list.”

“There go my plans to have him give me away.”

That earned her a sharp nip that made her squeal and wiggle beneath him, but then she sobered.

“What happened in the barn, Raina’s fantasy room, it wasn’t the Darkness.” She wanted it to be true, though she knew she really couldn’t say if it was or not. It was going to take her a while to trust her gut again.

Before that uncertainty could take hold, spoil the moment, Derek gave her the truth, reinforced it. He touched her face. “I know that, girl. It’s something…. I’ve got the need to rope and brand, and you’ve got the need for the taming. It helps you to let go, to drop all the shields and fears and surrender to trust. You need some help getting there, and that’s part of what it’s all about. No shame to it.

“I’ve got all sorts of rope tricks I could show you.” He gave her a grin, then sighed. “And I’ll give Raina her due. She said it was something that had always been between us, part of who we are, and the fantasy just gave us the chance to explore it a little more.”

“And that brand?”

“A tracer mark. Raina’s idea, but in the end, I wasn’t sorry for it. It helped me keep track of where you were when you were out on the street, then on the way down to us.”

“I’m lucky your aim was good,” she retorted, a gleam in her eye. “That one explosion, the one that turned two chambers into one? It would have taken me out if I’d so much as twitched the wrong way.”

“You aren’t the only one who practices marksmanship. My weapon’s just quite a bit bigger, baby.”

She snorted at that, made another halfhearted effort to wrestle him off her. She succeeded only in being pinned more decidedly. Then he settled down to taming her in earnest, ironically by making her so wild she was clawing at his back and mindless with need in no time. Thrusting, teasing her with his mouth. His hands were everywhere, stroking, leaving her all open and aching for him. She came around him, once, twice, before he let himself go, and then he started all over again, proving that her sorcerer’s strength was back in full glory, their souls invincible, bound as closely together as their hearts, minds and bodies.

L
INDA USUALLY STOPPED IN DURING THE MORNINGS TO
chat, but apparently the vibes coming out from their guesthouse were unmistakable. Except for Theo padding in and out occasionally to give them a reproachful look for hanging about the bed all day, they were left alone. As the sun started to set, Derek pulled on his jeans. He didn’t want Ruby to get dressed, so he wrapped her up in the blanket, despite her weak protest. Carrying her out to the porch so
they could watch that sunset together, he brought a beer for him, a soda for her, and a biscuit treat for Theo. She sat in the cradle of his legs on the lounge chair, bare feet peeping out of the bottom of the blanket, playing with his toes, because for once he’d left the boots behind. She had her head on his chest.

“I’d like Raina and Ramona there.”

“I expected that. I’ll be nice.”

“No, you won’t. Raina would die of shock if you were, and I need her to be my maid of honor. You sure you’re up for this? A lifetime with me?”

He shrugged, tugged her hair. “I don’t have a lot of choice. You know that dog of yours isn’t getting any younger, and Theo told me when he has to go to Dog Heaven, you’re going to fall apart.”

“You both have an overinflated opinion of yourselves. A typical alpha male trait. I won’t miss cleaning his slobber off everything. Oh wait. He says that’s your slobber. You just blame it on him.”

“Probably. Drooling over you, the way you turn every little gesture into something that makes me want to get you on your back. Or on your knees, or—”

“Do not.”

“Do you still scrub your tub on Saturdays? You know, where you bend way over, knees braced on the edge of the tub, your ass high in the air—”

She pinched him, hard, and he squeezed her, grinning. As they got quiet again, though, she spoke against his chest.

“You remember what you said that day…. about the soul being a full container?”

He nodded, his jaw brushing her hair.

“You said the only way there’s room for more inside of it is if pieces of it have been let go, leaving pockets for Darkness to grow, like tumors in the flesh.”

“I know. But that’s….”

“Sshh.” She touched his mouth. “I think there’s another
way. There’s room for more if pieces have been given freely to another, to make room for pieces of his soul to come inside of yours, filling them both up. Bringing them together. Thank you for giving me part of your soul, Derek. Thank you for loving me that much.”

“It was just formality, girl. You already had my soul. My heart, and everything else worth having.”

She swallowed, seeing the truth of it in his face, and stretched up to briefly press her mouth to his.

“Same goes, cowboy. Now and always.”

R
AINA STEPPED OUT ONTO THE PORCH.
T
HE AIR WAS
thick, heavy, waiting. Moving to the railing, she looked up at the sky. Heat lightning flashed, followed by the distant rumble of thunder.

She placed her bare feet precisely on the steps, interpreting messages through the wood element. Not clear enough. When she reached the stone walkway, she moved onto the grass alongside it. Instantly, a shiver went up into her soul. Way more heat. Electrical. Something was coming.

“
Whaaatsuuup?”

At the man’s deep voice, she flicked a glance up toward Cathair. The raven was perched on the top edge of the porch swing, his weight settled low, so with the flex of his claws and the help of the rising wind, it maintained a steady, short rocking rhythm.

“Not sure yet. Be still for now.”

Normally, an order like that would have been met with an impudent composition of the most obnoxious sounds in his repertoire. Discordant screeches, hoarse coughing
sounds, and a peppering of vulgar words strung together in a creative way. But, sensing what she was sensing, her familiar stayed silent, his head cocked.

She focused on the forest that covered most of the acreage of her property. The winding drive to the house was about a mile long, all of it through that thick wood and marsh. Ancient oaks draped with Spanish moss lined the drive. She always imagined them as gray-bearded, gnarled wizards, the great ancients of times past. When she sat on the porch in the early hours before dawn, sipping her wine, she tried to imagine faces shifting in the bark. Of course her familiarity with the normal flow of energy through the old trees was one of the reasons she sensed something amiss now.

The other was she was a witch, just given to knowing these things.

The winding drive appeared to be moving. Sharpening her gaze, she saw it was snakes, coming out of the foliage and marsh. About a dozen of them, copperheads, black snakes, a rattler. They moved toward the opposite side and, a blink later, two alligators followed. Seeing the occasional reptile-pedestrian crossing wasn’t unusual. Those coming up the driveway to indulge in the dark delights her house had to offer occasionally had to slow their vehicles until the animals passed. But seeing a full dozen of them crossing, and in the company of alligators, was not the norm. And whatever she sensed coming was not headed in her direction for the pleasures the house had to offer— they were coming for the sanctuary it provided.