Something About Witches Page 49

He wasn’t waiting for her to change her mind. Whether or not he was half-asleep, Derek knew his way around her body. He’d already shoved the covers impatiently down to his thighs, using those long, strong arms to lift her into a straddle. She could only hang on as he found his way under her skirt. She’d pulled on a silky pair of panties, but he simply caught his forefinger in the crotch panel, moved it aside, and pushed that thick hardness inside her. She was sore from last night, and he knew just how gentle and rough to be, inexorable in his demand, but tender in his care of her.


“I love you,” she whispered, realizing how many aspects of their relationship had experienced that special, magical combination.


His eyes opened then, the blue color full of emotion and that morning languidness that was a pleasure all its own. Bringing her down for another kiss, he constricted his other arm around her waist so she was full hilt on him. He allowed her very little movement, instead working his hips in and out so all her tissues were stroked and brought to combustible level in an astonishingly fast amount of time. When the kiss broke, he kept holding her that way, and so she pressed her face into his throat, gasped out her climax, her fingers clutching his shoulders wildly, toes curled tight where her legs were folded on the outside of his legs.


He released a few minutes after her, drawing out that unbearable yet wonderful sensitivity of her post-climactic tissues. The spurt of hot seed created an aftershock like a subtly intense second climax.


“Doughnuts,” he said against her ear after a very long few moments. “I saw a Dunkin’ Donuts around the corner, the first day I came to see you.”


“Really? You don’t seem the type to go for that crap. I was thinking the health-food store a couple blocks down. They have falafel sausage patties, kelp juice and tofu scrambled eggs.”


“Harpy.” The slap on her buttock made her yelp and other things tingle. His half-lidded eyes said he registered both reactions. His slow, easy grin said that he was willing to follow up on it…. as soon as she brought doughnuts.


She slid off him with a smile, and he held her hand to the full length of their arms, until she had to let go of his fingers. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispered.


“You better be.”


It was the first time in three years she’d felt happy.


KEEP HER CLOSE, SORCERER.


Derek came out of his doze with Mikhael’s words replaying in his mind. He’d thought it an acid taunt. But the memory was caught in still frame. He woke with the picture front and center. The sneer had disappeared from Mikhael’s lips, the eager light for battle dropping from his eyes as if it had never been there. He’d been delivering a serious message. Keep her close.


Derek thought it through, looked for anything that didn’t feel right. He did a speed-read through everything that had happened since the Great Rite. Then he hit something that made the small hairs lift off his neck, cold fingers stabbing his gut.


The chamber where Rose was. Last night, when he was there with Ruby, there were so many things happening, he’d attributed the funny “off” feeling to the Dark energies she’d used to create that magic. However, he’d talked to her about the magic, mostly high-level discussion during lazy pillow talk, but now he recalled one point vividly.


“The Darkness part is like using wine in a recipe,” she’d explained. “It burns off as part of the process, evaporates. It affects me, goes inside of me. It’s not part of that chamber. Nothing but Light near Rose, ever.”


So why had he felt Darkness in that chamber? It hadn’t been from Ruby. No, it wasn’t in the chamber. It was beneath it.


Why had Asmodeus attacked the Florida fault line? Why had he given up so quickly? Because it had been bait, to get Ruby away from here.


“Holy fucking Goddess.” Derek bolted up out of the bed, grabbing for his jeans.


Not knowing the whole picture until last night, he hadn’t put it together. But now it all made terrible sense. Whether they realized it or not, terrorists learned their strategy of sleeper cells from the Underworld. No one was as good at waiting as a demon. Three years would be less than a moment to Asmodeus.


He couldn’t maintain corporeal form in the world unless he worked the right spells, which often attracted attention, since it meant a lot of dead bodies. However, he could drift in spirit wherever he wished, apparently harmless, but a spy was never harmless. He watched and learned. Asmodeus was a lord of chaos in a variety of ways, but he was also known for taking lust, twisting it into darker realms. So Asmodeus had likely been watching her all along, goading her in some of the paths she’d chosen, taking what was a natural compulsion and turning it into the violent hunger that Mikhael had mitigated, but which had still clouded her radar.


The demon probably knew every damn thing about Derek and Ruby, down to how many pancakes they’d had the other morning.


He’d known the fault line would bring Derek. It was also geographically too close to Ruby not to use it as an excuse to see her, involve her. And the moment the name Asmodeus left Derek’s lips, Ruby would be on board.


Fuck it all, he’d been played by a demon. He’d drawn Ruby out, to Florida, giving Asmodeus time to craft a portal below the cave, the shortest escape route back to the Underworld. Blessing Raina, he reached out, looking for that tracking mark. Ruby was still a few blocks off. Maybe he could lock things down before she got back and into harm’s way.


If Asmodeus got his claws on that sphere, he’d have access to an extremely complex magic he could unravel and reverse engineer. On top of that, once he had it, the bastard knew he had Ruby, because she would do anything to protect its contents. Including finish the job, sell her soul to him and make the Underworld her new forwarding address.


With the magical abilities she had, they’d force her to serve them with all that knowledge. She’d be the first to figure out how to stabilize demons’ corporeal forms outside the Underworld. Giving them time to create all sorts of chaos and mayhem on the Earth, and still have time to shop at Walmart and hit up Hooters for a basket of wings.


Ruby’d had three years not only to hone her power, but to tether it to Darkness, so hell, she’d put salt on his pizza for him. Asmodeus could just grab hold and reel her in.


SINCE IT WAS BEFORE DAWN, THE STREETS DARK, SHE’D been a prudent girl. She’d tucked her Sig in a belted holster beneath Derek’s roomy shirt. It was a lot of gun for carrying, but she still had a thing about walking the streets in darkness, a phobia she refused to let deter her from a morning coffee run. Besides, the shirt went to mid-thigh over the voluminous skirt, so she wouldn’t be scaring any early-morning dog walkers.


Logically, she knew she wasn’t going to have any problems. The sleepy coastal town wasn’t known for its plethora of predators, but a woman walking in a downtown area while the streets were still mostly deserted and it was dark didn’t take any chances— other than the walking in the dark in the first place. But she had a different arsenal of weapons, above and beyond the gun, so a mere mortal wasn’t much of a threat, really.


She was first in line for the fresh, hot doughnuts, and bought Derek a dozen, as well as his quart of black coffee. She chose two powdered sugar doughnuts for herself. Later today, once they checked in with Linda and told her when they’d come back to get Theo, maybe she and Derek could take a little time, stroll along the streets, and she could show him some of the shops here.


When she’d fled to this town, it had been an escape, not a planned destination, but over time she realized she liked the little coastal village, even the seedier elements that sometimes clustered near a military base. It was well integrated, a community of Light and Dark.


That thought sobered her some, thinking of the things Derek had said. He hadn’t talked much about it for the rest of the night, holding to his promise. Which of course left her room to start thinking about it in her own way.


He’d probably known that, like he knew most things, the arrogant bastard. But as she took her time now, walking down the street, watching the dark sky become streaked with those smoky blues that heralded the dawn, she sifted through his words. She knew he was right. She’d probably always known it, but she hadn’t had the strength or inclination to face it, until now. Until he was back at her side.


She faced that truth, accepted it. Accepted that it wasn’t because she couldn’t stand on her own, but because there were things in this world too much for anyone to handle on their own. Having the person who loved you unconditionally stand at your back, be there to give strength, was vital. She’d needed Rose’s father to be there with her, to give her the strength to say her final good-bye to her little girl.


Tears came as they always did, but this time they were like Easter rain, gentle and less painful. Less harsh. They were sorrow, regret, but there was hope in them as well. She imagined Rose growing up, having the chance to find a love as she had found one, learning the things she’d discovered.


Please, let her have parents who love her so much, it hurts. And they won’t be afraid to show her how much they love her. She’ll know she really, truly matters.


She closed her eyes, holding the thought. Drew a deep breath. He’d said the decision would be hers, that he could give her time. That—


Her eyes sprang open. A flight of birds was passing over, a rush of wings against a dark sky. They weren’t flying as a flock, but in a haphazard manner, bumping into one another, their internal radar and navigation skewed, like a plane with instruments fried by lightning.


Her heart and stomach bumped into each other in the same chaotic response. She was attached to that sphere deep in the earth, blood and bone, and something was terribly wrong. In that first moment, she couldn’t believe what she was feeling. Someone was messing with it. No. He’d promised. But she’d left him there….


Dropping the doughnuts and coffee, she bolted into a run. Then she was airborne, hit by a blast as if an IED had gone off just beneath her feet.


Yeah, it might be nightmarish déjà vu, but she wasn’t that same helpless girl. She twisted, called the winds to her and bounced off a cushion of air that slowed her momentum. She landed on her feet, spinning around to face her attacker.

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