In the Company of Witches

There were other forms of sanctuary, though. His heart was beating under her ear, his arms around her body. He’d rescued her. Stayed with her.



If something ever happened…I would come for you.



Once they got her settled inside, Derek and Ruby took their leave, knowing she needed to rest, though Ruby gave her a hug and the assurance she would be checking in on her daily. The head tilt toward Mikhael, followed by an amusingly intent look, was similar to the one Ramona had given her that day outside of her shop.



I expect deets, girlfriend. Lots of deets. Explicit deets.



Mikhael let her have some time in the parlor, accepting the hugs and touches of her succubi and incubi, reassuring them she was alive and well. Gina didn’t want to let go of her, sitting at her feet to hug her knees, and Li and Saul draped protectively over the back of her chair while the others took every opportunity to press close, touch her hair, issue all sorts of promises about handling everything so she could just rest for the next few days, next few weeks, or they’d wait on her hand and foot forever if she needed it.



Raina hugged them all to her fiercely. Her babies were growing up, but not in the bad way for sex demons. Maybe her magic was helping them with that. The demolished fountain had been cleaned up, other sculpture pieces placed on the broken portions to make it look like a decorated ancient ruin, rather than the aftermath of a fight. She might just leave it that way for a while.



“Time for her to get some rest,” Mikhael told them firmly, nudging Gina gently out of his path as he bent down, picked her up again. She could walk, but from his expression, she decided she’d wait to argue with him in private. Plus, it was three levels of stairs.



When they reached her room, she glanced toward the balcony, where Cathair was nested in leaves, shredded cardboard and down, arranged inside the cup of a thick Baywatch beach towel and a ragged box top. The ragged top suggested Cathair had added the shredded cardboard pieces to his nest. “Ramona’s doing?” Raina asked.



“She said he won’t be up to perching for a few days.” In fact, the raven had his head under his wing, snoozing deep.



“I didn’t think ravens could snore.”



“Well, he’s a badass. Taking out eagles and all.”



“Ruby told me what you did.” Her gaze turned to him. “You shouldn’t have…but I’m glad you did. He means a lot to me.”



“I know. Maybe next time, both he and his mistress will be a little less badass, live to fight another day. Let someone else do their fighting for them.”



“You have any recommendations on that? My last protector got knocked out by lawn ornamentation. I need someone tougher.”



“Keep it up,” he warned. “You won’t always be recuperating.”



She smiled, closed her eyes. But her hand tightened on him and she couldn’t help the tremor that ran through her arm. It was too close, all of it. Sensing it, he slid into the bed with her, holding her against his body. The shaking became worse, an ache that crashed over her, all of it coming together in one wave now that she was safe in her room, safe with him.



She was making noises against his chest that made her heart feel as if it were being shredded like that cardboard. Goddess, she wished she could cry.



“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m here, Raina. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Sshh. You’re breaking my heart. Please stop.”



She nodded against him but had to keep on for a while, until she exhausted herself. When she slowed down, he was rocking her. She liked the fact he didn’t try to make her talk, didn’t talk much himself. It made things easier, less complicated.



“Sleep, baby. When you wake, I’m going to show you an entirely different side of Hell. A much better one.”



She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for her to return to the Underworld anytime this century, even if there was a part that looked like Wonka’s chocolate factory. She didn’t have the energy to argue, though. Ramona had slipped her one of those sleep tonics, saying it would make the trip easier. Plus she had more bruises and healing cuts than the loser of a prize fight. Only she’d won. In a lot of different ways. She hoped.



She slipped off into dreams with a vague protest. She felt his lips curve against her temple. That was all right. They weren’t going to be able to tell her what to do forever. She’d let it go. For now.



SINCE SHE’D BEEN WRAPPED UP IN SOMETHING LIKE A potato bag on her last trip into the Underworld, she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but it turned out that Mikhael didn’t take her down a long bumpy tunnel, through an ominous gateway or across the River Styx. He simply flew through the sky; then there was a shimmer of energy over them and they were somewhere else entirely. Belowground.



Even trusting Mikhael, she was tense, but when they materialized, she was greeted by an image that was more out of Arthurian legend than Faustian. A crystal cave. Letting go of his hand, she slid her hand along walls glittering with stones the colors of flame, opal and fiery topaz. There were stalactites and stalagmites with rainbows of earthen colors. It was breathtaking. Light came from somewhere, a random dance of starlight in the room.



“The crystals have a variety of magical properties, and they’re organic. Periodically they’re harvested, used for different energy work, here and above.”



There was heat here, but a heat that comforted and reassured, not the kind that burned flesh. When she put her hand to that burn on her throat, his overlaid it. He pressed his body up against her, providing reassurance, comfort.



“It’s all right.” She swallowed. “It’s a reminder that I beat her.”



“You had some help.”



“A little bit.” Then her voice softened, remembering Isaac. “A lot, actually.”



He slid his arm around her waist. “He’s in the Underworld now, going through Redemption. Tough, but not anywhere near as punitive as what he was originally facing, thanks to his sacrifice for you. You affected him, made him want to be something different. He’ll have another chance, another life. I misjudged him.”



“No, you didn’t. But he overcame what he was, in a moment when it really mattered. I’ll pray for him.”



“Come with me.” Taking her hand, he guided her onward, out of that chamber and through a couple more like it, and then into a cavern that opened up wide and tall, where the stalagmites and stalactites met like the pillars of an ancient temple. They were a clear quartz crystal, a constant flow of water down their surface making them glisten.



Water dripped from the walls as well, then down across the ground, over flat layered rocks and into a hot spring. Turning in a circle, taking in all angles of the chamber, something stirred deep inside Raina. That odd ache was in her throat, but there was something different about it. As she moved forward, Mikhael released her hand. She felt him watching her as she reached out, touched the walls.



She gasped, feeling a reaction to it, a reaction she’d never had before. When she touched her face, she came away with wetness. She turned to face Mikhael, emotions rolling through her chest, uncertain, vulnerable.



“This is where the tears of the tearless witches go,” he said softly. He came to her, captured one as it came from her eye. “In this chamber, a tearless witch may cry.”



She swallowed, gazed up at him. “Why?”



“Because I want to give you things no one else has. Now and always. I want you to heal from those things that have been done to you, to know that you can give your heart to me and I’ll take care of it. I never want to cause a single tear of yours to come to this place from you.”



She moved into his arms as those tears flowed. It was like it had been in her attic room, before she slept, only now it was even more powerful, the waves getting stronger and stronger. But it was okay. For the first time in her life, she experienced the catharsis of female weeping, of crying over her lost childhood, the things she’d seen done to her parents, to others of her kind. She cried for nearly losing Cathair, for what Mikhael and her friends had done for her.



And she cried for every time she’d watched Titanic, and Rose had told Jack she’d never let go. As well as when she’d told him she believed him innocent of stealing the blue diamond, not because she’d been given proof, but because she’d believed in him in her heart, above everything and everyone else.



Mikhael sat down on a rock near the edge of the pool, keeping her against his chest. While she cried, he patiently slid off her shoes and his own so they could put their feet into the salt water, and then he kept holding her until she ran out. For a long time, he didn’t say anything, just let her gaze into that multifaceted pool, at all the tears of tearless witches. She wondered what they wished they could cry about.



Like the crystal caves, there was no evidence of a light source, but a dim glow made the water sparkle.



“Can we swim in it?” she asked at last.



“Only if you’re naked. There are strict rules.”



She smiled. “I would never doubt the word of a Dark Guardian, but since it’s you…I think you’re full of it, Mikhael Roman.”



Nevertheless, she pushed away from him, rose and pulled her dress over her head, letting it drop to the side. She was wearing nothing under it, because he’d told her to wear only the velvet dress that clung to her curves. She liked pleasing him, liked the way he reacted when she did as he commanded. It made her react as well.



Stepping into the water, she followed the layered rock steps until the water lapped at her ribs, just under her breasts. Turning, she dropped beneath the water’s surface, not at all surprised when he touched her, drew her up. He was naked, too.



“I think only witches are allowed in the tearless witch pool.”



“Call a lifeguard.”



She rested her hands on his hips, splaying her fingers over all the delicious muscle on his abdomen and chest until she reached his shoulders. When his fingers tangled in her heavy wet hair, she tilted her head at the pressure he exercised upon it, holding her captive as he bent and suckled the tears of witches off her throat.