Something About Witches

He bit back a quiet oath. What she was messing with had bigger implications. His job was staying on top of such hazardous forays into Dark sorcery, but he was pretty certain that “staying on top” didn’t mean what they’d just done. Damn it all, though, he’d beaten the problem in his head for more than an hour now, watching her sleep, and he had no easy answer of where to go with it.



At least her battle with the soul-eaters hadn’t resulted in serious injury. Miriam had gotten the worst of it; Ruby mostly had scrapes and bruises. What would make her sore as hell tomorrow was the high-adrenaline muscle-locking that came from a fight of this intensity. But it wasn’t the physical that concerned him. When he’d done her cleansing in the shower, that Dark spot in her soul had been like a stillborn fetus, a hard shell grown around it. Even moving gently, he’d found it as tight and clenched as she’d been the first time he’d taken her, a virgin in her early twenties.



He latched onto that, a memory to bolster his own soul, because he needed something to loosen the hard fist in his gut.



In today’s modern world where the decision to have sex was treated as casually as the choice of candy in a vending machine, he’d been surprised and humbled to find she was still a virgin at twenty-two. When he realized that, he’d made sure it was special. He’d taken her to one of his favorite places, a small private cabin perched on a breathtaking overlook in the Smoky Mountains. The bedroom had a wall of windows to watch the sunset, and an oversized king bed that could accommodate his frame and give him plenty of room to show her all sorts of wonderful things. Maybe he did that; he couldn’t really remember that part. What he most remembered was how many wonderful things she showed him, things he hadn’t really ever felt for another human being before. He’d been in love here and there, but never this all-consuming need to bond he felt with her.



She’d been tense, anxious. But then he’d realized it was not because of the act, but because she was afraid she’d disappoint him. The absurdity of that had broken his heart wide-open.



He’d been gentle, patient, overwhelmed by her trust in him, the wonder in her eyes after the initial pain was out of the way. He’d told her beforehand he could keep her from feeling it, but she’d taken him to task.



“You’re just being silly, Derek Stormwind.” Those gray-green eyes glistened with passion and more poignant emotions at once. “It’s just a moment, but it’s a really important moment. I want to have it to hold, to remember. The pain as well as the good stuff.”



To have and to hold, until death do us part…. He should have married her that very weekend. Marriage had never crossed his mind until he met her. Mainly because he had no idea how long he would live, and she was mortal. In all his centuries, he’d never aged past the appearance of a rugged forty-something. But looking down at her now, he knew, despite the craziness of the idea, he wanted to marry her. Hell, he’d probably known it then. He wanted that sacred bond, wanted to put a ring on her finger, give her another baby.



He did a Rejuvenation Ritual every hundred years, an essential step to keep his mind and heart from getting jaded, an unfortunate side effect of his kind of immortality. However, even with that, he’d never felt the urge to make that kind of commitment. He’d thought it was because it was unrealistic, unfair, whatever. But with Ruby, even when her bones were dust and the world had left her memory far behind, he wanted to be wearing the ring that said she’d been his wife. And he’d been her husband.



Maybe in terms of his life span, he’d have her for only a moment, but it was as she said. It’s a really important moment. I want to have it to hold, to remember. The pain as well as the good stuff. Because that was what made life so damn precious.



The thought twisted in his heart. Moving so slowly, not wanting to wake her, he cupped his palm over her abdomen. That twist became a damn railroad spike.



Oh, Ruby.



When she’d sent him away, he’d sensed pain and grief, but beyond that, a desperate desire not to feel anything, as if she couldn’t afford the emotions he raised in her. He couldn’t penetrate or understand her pain, and so he’d made a mistake. Soul magic aside, he’d been an arrogant fool, thinking he knew everything. She was young, something was bugging her, he’d come back in a few months, stay in touch with her throughout, see if he could help ease it out of her, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.



It was often said that Fate made everything happen in its own time. Thinking about what she’d endured without him, what she’d given up of herself, he didn’t accept that. He’d fucked up, and it just plain infuriated him that he hadn’t been with her when she needed him. As Raina had said, it was Ruby’s time now. And he sensed she needed him more now than she’d ever needed anyone.



What was she crying over in her dreams? He was going to get to the bottom of this and help her, before she lost herself permanently. Because no matter how amazing and terrible she’d been today, no matter how it confirmed what he’d always suspected, that she had a reservoir of power that could eclipse the most capable witches he’d ever met, he would rather see her a mundane, sassy gun-shop owner than swallowed by the brutal claws of the Underworld. He’d love her as witch or woman. And maybe somehow he’d finally help her learn to love herself the way she deserved. The way he loved her. Help her repair the damage her mother and a childhood of living in the lonely shadows had done.



For all the things he’d done to help the world, he thought he’d never been given anything so important to do. It was as if the fate of the world hung on her one soul. Given the things he’d seen in his long life, it wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded.



He’d better catch a few minutes’ sleep, though he didn’t want to do so. He didn’t want to waste a second of the time she was lying in his arms. However, when she woke up, they’d have difficult things to discuss. Since discussing difficult things with Ruby was like fighting a cornered coyote with one hand tied behind his back, he’d best be rested up for the challenge.



Unfortunately, his stomach was rumbling, telling him he’d have to go look for food soon.



Maybe later. As she made a quiet, plaintive noise, a soft plea, he tightened his arms around her. “I love you, baby,” he murmured. “I’m right here. I’m going to take care of you, going to take care of all of it. Just trust me, and I won’t let you down again.”



RUBY WOKE FEELING BRUISED AND ALTOGETHER OUT OF sorts, particularly when she found she was alone. Derek had left a note on the side table.



Wanted you to sleep as long as possible, and my stomach wouldn’t shut up. Went to scare up some food. We need to talk. Don’t try running. I’m damn good at hog-tying.



She indulged a vision of hanging him with his own rope, but it was a little discomfiting, how graphically that gruesome image came to mind, as if the residual effects of her magic use last night were lingering like a hard-to-shake flu.



She’d try to avoid him as long as possible, she decided. An entirely unrealistic thought, but it was the lie she was going to use to get out of bed today. Thank the Goddess they’d given the coven the morning off, though she was sure she needed to touch base with Linda and Christine and find out about Miriam. Possibly go see her and have that talk Derek said should come from her. The fact he was right just made it, and him, more irritating.



With the help of a few Advil, she got dressed, fed Theo and then spent some time on the floor with him. She rubbed ears, scratched the good spots on his belly and hips, until the creases in his face went back to the normal crumpled paper look, rather than the drawn look of a worried old man. Linda’s dogs were probably as freaked-out by the energy storms, but of course Theo had had a front-row seat to the fallout, seeing Derek carting her in here, and the subsequent fireworks from that.



Laying her head on Theo’s side, she closed her eyes to hear his heartbeat. He nuzzled her hair and then sighed deeply, dropping his head off the edge of the dog bed. She wanted to go home, back to her shop. She shouldn’t have agreed to do this. Her foundation, already too tenuous, was about to crumble.



Nonsense. She straightened, scrubbed a hand over her face. Tightening her hands in her hair, she gave it a harsh tug, then rose from the bed. She forced herself to step in front of the mirror, check that she didn’t have that freakish look she’d had last night. Fortunately, the scariest things she saw were her mussed hair and tired face. She hadn’t brought any makeup, but it was the first time in a while she’d had a serious vanity twinge over it. Since she couldn’t seem to keep herself from crying a couple times a day, it was pointless to put on any. Revlon might make waterproof mascara, but they meant waterproof in terms of gym sweat, not Niagara bursting out of a woman’s tear ducts.



Given how often most women needed to cry, she expected if they did come up with a mascara that met the challenge, it would be a million-dollar best seller. Marketing would have a dilemma on that one, though. Overwhelmed by tears once, twice, even three times a day? Never fear. Even if you’re so depressed you’re considering suicide, our mascara won’t come off. You’ll look great at your funeral.



She sighed. At least her face no longer had that scary angular look, and her pupils were normal pinpoints from the sunlight coming in the window. Though she felt like she’d been hit by a truck, it was the soreness of her inner thighs that captured her attention, the lovely ache that came from cradling a man’s body. She didn’t experience that postcoital side effect with Mikhael much; he wasn’t the missionary-position sort.



She pushed that away, instead thinking of the first time Derek had ever made love to her. A storm over the mountain, rain coming down against the windowpanes, his body on hers, moving easily, sinking deep after he got her good and wet, too aroused to be nervous— much. Her very first time, with her very first love. The only man she’d ever loved.



An odd memory to have at this moment, but it helped. As she stepped outside the door, she took a deep breath of the forest air, the morning sunlight washing over her. It gave her some bracing hope. Despite the debris left inside her from last night’s storm, she could clean it up, handle whatever the day would bring. She didn’t have to tell Derek Stormwind one damn thing. She didn’t owe him anything.