The Witch With No Name

A fuzzy-feeling smile came over me, and I rolled onto my back. Eyes opening, I tucked his hair behind one of his pointy ears as he hung over me. The light was dim with the coming sunrise since the drapes at the French doors to the garden were open, and it made his eyes dark. He was himself but different. “I like you best this way,” I said, seeing him rested and still soft with sleep, smelling of soap from his shower before he’d come to bed.

The bed shifted as he found my fingers and kissed the tips. “The sun doesn’t wait for lovers or villains. Up or not?”

I groaned, gaze on the elaborately painted ceiling of horses and the hunt. The sun had risen on the East Coast almost half an hour ago, and we both wanted to know if the demons and vampire souls had been pulled back to the ever-after. “Up,” I said, and his smile widened at the pained sound in my voice. This was insane, getting up at dawn, but I was starting to become used to it even if my stomach hurt and my thoughts were slow. Horrors, as my mother would say.

Trent kissed my fingertips again. “I’ll see if the coffee is going,” he said as he rolled to the edge of the bed, and I watched him, listless and unwilling to move yet. The faint light outlined his skin, accenting his abs and thighs defined by his horsemanship. I sat up and shoved my tangled mess of hair back and tried to imagine his gorgeous body tamed by the years, more mature but no less attractive. Yes, I wanted to be there, but as I looked at the shadowed opulent room with its heavy furniture and extravagant lushness and attention to detail, I had a hard time seeing myself here longer than a weekend. On the few occasions I’d been here without Trent, I’d felt lost, as if I was curling in around something that didn’t recognize or have a need for me. Sort of like my dream.

Propped up against the headboard, I watched him hike his slacks up. My God, the man had a nice stomach. “I’m going to miss you today,” I whispered.

Trent’s smile vanished briefly as he put his shirt on. Head down over the buttons, he said, “Believe me, I’d rather be spending it with you. Just because I have the right to speak before the dewar doesn’t mean they have to listen.” He worked the last button and tossed the hair from his eyes, making my heart stop with his smile. “You want to try to meet up around noon?”

I fumbled for my own phone, squinting at it and seeing that I’d gotten a call from Edden last night. It wasn’t tagged as urgent and I set it back down. I’d been planning on spending the day with Jenks and probably Ivy at the church to find out what we’d lost and what could be salvaged. “Only if you’re really available,” I said as I scrunched back down into the warm blankets. “You know you’re not going to have time for a coffee, much less lunch.”

The bed shifted as he sat next to me to put on his socks. “I’m only going to be across the river. There might be more support among the dewar than at first glance. It’s easy to stand by and do nothing, even when you know it’s wrong, harder when someone calls you out on it. If we have a wave of suncides this morning, it will be easier.” My smile froze, and he looked up, one sock in hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” I said, touching his hand.

Expression grim, he put his ankle on a knee. I’d seen him do it a hundred times before, but never to put his sock on. “That doesn’t make me feel any better or this any easier.”

I was silent, my hand tracing along his back as he leaned over his foot. “Trent,” I said softly, remembering my dream. “Are the mystics still with me?”

His fingers fumbled, and alarm brought me still. “Ah, why do you ask?”

“I had a weird dream.”

His smile wasn’t exactly fake when he stood up, but he was hiding concern, which only fueled my own. “Not unusual when you’re woken up early,” he said, words a bit breathy as he dragged a shoe out from under the dresser. “You scared me last night.”

“Really? What part?” I scooted farther back, against the headboard. “When I tried to throttle Cincy’s head vampire, or when I stood up to Mica?”

His expression caught at me when he sat back down beside me. “When the mystics found you. Rachel—”

“Oh God. It’s bad, isn’t it?” I said.

Smiling, he cupped my face, but there was sorrow in his eyes. “You might be sparkling just because you’re glad to see me.”

Crap on toast, it was bad. My hands clenched themselves, and I looked at them, twisted about themselves into a knot in my lap.

“Rachel,” he breathed, pulling me to him. My arms went around him and I held my breath, trying not to cry. I hadn’t called them to me even if I’d missed them. I’d done everything right, and I was exactly where I’d started. The elves hated Trent because of me, and with the mystics, I’d probably lost the demon support, too. It was falling apart, and I couldn’t stop it!

“You’re not hearing anything, are you?” His words shifted my hair, and I shook my head. What happened in a dream was not reality. And there were no voices showing me visions around corners. His grip on me shifted, and I looked up to see his relief. “Then you’re okay,” he said, making my heart almost break that he cared that much. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you do.”

“Promise.” My foot twisted under me was falling asleep, and my other, hanging out over the edge of the bed behind him, was getting cold. I wasn’t going to move, though, not with Trent holding me, telling me he loved me without even a word. “What time is your appointment?”

His breathing shifted, his shoulders tensing. “Nine forty-five.”

It was only a few hours away. “I’m sorry,” I said as he let go. “If it wasn’t for me, the enclave would be listening to you and you could have stopped this before it started.”

Trent’s eyes widened. “Is that what you think? Rachel, if not for you, then I’d probably have been the one to start it in the first place. I like who I am. Do you know how long it’s been since I did? Listen to me.” He took my shoulders, leaning over to find my eyes. “You and I are an excuse for the dewar to try and wrestle control away. This would’ve happened regardless.”

“But not to this extent,” I said, and he collapsed in on himself, holding my hands between us as he chose his next words. “You can’t be the Sa’han if you’re with me,” I said miserably. “They won’t let you.”

“It’s just a title,” he said, but even I could hear the lie.

“One that gives you a voice, one that people follow.”

His lips pressed into a resolute line. “I’m not letting you go, so stop it. We’ll get through this. Besides, if the demons call me the Sa’han, then maybe that’s enough,” he said, a hint of worry tugging at the corners of his eyes.

“Maybe,” I said miserably. I will not cry. I won’t!

“The demons won’t listen to Landon, but they might me. I’ve ridden the hunt with them. Fought beside them to eliminate a threat. If that’s not being the Sa’han, then what is?”

The depth of his commitment shivered through me in the predawn gloom. “But how . . .”

“This isn’t your fault,” he said, bringing me to him again, and the tingles his whisper started racing through me. “We can do this together. I can’t do it alone. I don’t want to.”

My eyes closed as I soaked in his warmth, his hands firm without binding, their slow motion against me suddenly taking on a new meaning. I took another breath, and that fast, my desires flipped to another direction. I licked my lips and Trent’s breath quickened.

“You know, we’ve got a good ten minutes until sunup,” he said, his fingers tracing over me and the flimsy nightie I had over here. “They won’t have any real information about Cincinnati for at least twenty.”

I pulled back to see the heat in his eyes, the desire. “We can’t,” I whispered, smiling.

“Why not?”

He wasn’t confused per se, but clearly wary at my smile, and I pulled him closer, turning our embrace less amorous and more friendly. “Because someone is pinching my toes,” I said. Trent hesitated, and I almost laughed. “Really. Someone is pinching my toes.”

Realizing I was serious, he leaned to see around me. “Ray!” he exclaimed, and I held my arms out for the little girl. She was about eighteen months now, sweet with her blanket in her grip, her dark hair carefully combed and her even darker eyes solemn as she pinched my toes for our attention. She couldn’t have been there very long, and her expression was troubled.

“Daddy?” she said, her high voice clear. “Oucy no. No!” she demanded, pointing to the door, now open a crack. I hadn’t even heard her open it, but she was a quiet little thing.

Trent pulled the toddler up, bringing the scent of baby powder and snickerdoodles with her. Dressed and ready for the day, she pointed again at the door, her features tight in distress. I could hear Lucy, her sister, shrilling something in the background as I fixed Ray’s collar.

“What is Lucy doing that she’s not supposed to?” Trent said patiently, and Ray scrunched her face up, clearly wanting to spill the beans but not having the vocabulary yet. “Lucy?” Trent called, loudly, and the little girl’s enthusiastic shouts became closer.

“Daddy!” the toddler cried, shoving the door open so hard that it bounced against the wall and nearly closed again. But the blond, excited girl was already in here, a strip of toilet paper in her grip as she danced in a circle, somehow not breaking it. “Happy birthday!” she shouted, throwing it up into the air and silently watching it drift down.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet,” I whispered, and I swear Ray rolled her eyes.

Lucy clapped her hands and ran for the bed. “Hi, Aunt Achel!” she shouted, flopping against Trent’s knees, making Ray shove Lucy’s hands off him.

I pulled Lucy to me, glad that Trent hadn’t started dressing them alike. Lucy was only three months older than Ray, but their personalities made the difference seem larger. Squishy and wiggly, Lucy bounced in my lap until I penned her in with my arms, bringing the wonderful smell of innocence to me.

“Hi, Lucy,” I said, careful to not talk to her like she was a baby but a real person. “Is that toilet paper? Shouldn’t it be on the roll?”

She slid from me, running to where it lay on the floor and throwing it back into the air with a jubilant “Surprise!”

Trent looked up from playing a finger game with Ray. “There were streamers at a party, and now she won’t leave the toilet paper alone.” Ray held her arms out to me, and I took her willingly. “Ellasbeth is supposed to be watching them,” Trent said, his eyes on the door. “Though to be honest, Quen is keeping an eye on them as well. And Jon. Everyone.”

“You think she’s okay?”

Standing, Trent ran a hand over his chin, mildly concerned. “She’s still fighting jet lag. Maybe she fell asleep reading to them again. Unless she left. That’d be nice.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” I said as I arranged Ray’s very dark hair. I knew that Trent believed Ellasbeth agreed with the elven dewar’s opinion that the world would be better if we weren’t part of it, but I wasn’t so sure. “Maybe you should check on her,” I said, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to. Not in my nightgown.

Trent nodded and held out his hand to Ray. “Ray, where is Ellasbeth?”

Blinking her dark eyes, Ray slid from me. Her hand looked small as it fit into Trent’s. Wobbling only slightly, she looked at the door. “Shhh. Nap,” the little girl said, and I swung my feet to the floor.

“That can mean anything,” I said as I stood and glanced at my phone. It was almost sunup. No time for a shower now. I could do it after the news.

Trent’s frown took on a shade of concern. “I’ll be right back,” he said, starting for the door. “Lucy? Where’s your mommy?”

“A-a-a-a-asleep!” Lucy crowed, throwing her toilet paper banner again and watching it drift down. “Surprise!”

Trent held out his other hand. “Show me?” he asked, and she jumped over to him, her dress flying up to show her tights.

“Come on, Daddy!” she said, dragging him off.

Ray turned before they left, and I made an open-and-closed hand wave to match hers. Ducking her head shyly, she trailed along behind Trent, leaving the door open. I didn’t mind, but I did put on a borrowed robe before I scuffed into my slippers. I could hear Quen talking to Trent, and I wasn’t quite up to more people yet. The morning garden beckoned, a gray patch of solitude and calm after Lucy’s exuberance, and after a look at my phone and the time, I shuffled to the big French doors. I wasn’t going out into the living area until Ellasbeth knew I was here.

Besides, if there was a real problem, Quen or Jon would be on it. It might look as if the girls had been wandering the upper floor unattended, but both Jon and Quen were big on letting the girls explore freely within sharply defined boundaries. Either one wouldn’t have a problem letting them walk in on me and Trent—each for different reasons.

Lucy’s shrill voice was punctuated by masculine rumbles as I hit the code at the box by the door and opened it. The first breath of morning damp cooled my flush as I recalled the pandemonium the first time I’d opened it without the code. Birdsong and what might be the clatter of pixy wings drew me out onto the sheltered patio. There was a small koi pond with steam rising from it, and tidy flower beds carefully raked and put to bed for the coming winter.