Witch Heart

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"It wasn't working anyway," Micah grumbled.

He rubbed his throat and Adam glanced away, almost sorry he'd leapt across the room and pinned Micah to the wall. At the time he hadn't been able to stop himself. Claire had been in obvious pain and he would have done anything to make it stop.

Thomas glared at Adam. "So Adam didn't interrupt the spell."

Micah shook his head. "I need to tweak it. There are some anomalies in Claire that I hadn't counted on, stuff related to her magickal structure and her power level. I presumed the core of her was earth with the other elements tacked on, but that's not true. Claire's core is all four elements combined. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Rue altered her down to her very DNA."

Adam looked down at Claire, who lay pale and unconscious in the bed where they'd moved her to recuperate. "Great."

"At least we didn't blow the Coven up," Micah muttered. "Let's look on the bright side. I'll try again with an altered spell."

"The fuck you will," answered Adam. "I'm not watching Claire go through that again."

"That's for her to decide, isn't it?" Thomas asked.

Adam just locked his jaw and stared down at Claire. Her hair lay tangled against the pillow and her face was pale and drawn. All he wanted was for everyone to leave the room so he could crawl into bed with her, hold her close, and sink into the fact she was alive.

During the last part of the spell, right before he'd lunged across the room to force Micah to stop it, Adam had not been convinced she was going to live through it. He was fucking sick of almost watching her die. That was twice now.

No, he wasn't going to let her endanger herself again. He just wasn't. Ultimately, he didn't care what the cost would be.

Adam unlocked his jaw long enough to speak. "Can you both leave now?"

"Sure," answered Thomas. "Doc Oliver says she should be waking up soon. She'll probably want to see you first anyway."

Adam followed the two men out and closed the door behind them. He still felt raw, hostile, from watching Claire undergo the spell. And the stupid thing had failed! The elium still dwelt within her.

The room was much like any other guest room at the Coven. The first room was a small living room, complete with an entertainment center and a hotel-sized refrigerator. Off that room a short hallway led to a bathroom and one or more bedrooms. Some people, like himself, lived at the Coven full-time. They had full apartments, complete with kitchens. Claire's guest room wasn't far from his place.

He slipped back down the semidarkened hallway, shedding clothes as he went. Once in her room, he slid into bed bedside her and pulled her close, inhaling that odd foreign flower scent her hair always held. No amount of shampooing seemed to make it fade. He suspected it was something found on Eudae, yet it seemed like a natural part of her.

Her body was warm and soft, her breathing deep. If he closed his eyes he could almost pretend she wasn't unconscious from a backfired spell, but that she merely slept. If he concentrated just a bit harder, he could imagine away the demons, the elium… Rue. He could forget about all the things that lay between them, all the things that separated them.

But he couldn't forget about Eliza.

Adam's eyes snapped open as her face flashed on the back of his lids. On the night Eliza had been killed, he'd felt a bit like he did now — raw, frayed emotion leaving a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, anger at himself over his inability to keep her safe. Grief.

If he parsed out all the threads of feeling forming the tight ball in the center of his stomach, he was sure he'd find love tangled up in there — unwanted, unwelcome, uncontrollable — love for Claire.

He couldn't be sure when the first stirrings of it had begun to affect him. It had been like sickness. He'd been exposed to the germ of it unknowingly and days later the fever of it had hit him.

Even though he knew it was irrational, it still felt like the worst kind of cheating. Admitting he had these emotions for Claire meant he was betraying the seven-year-long vigil he'd been keeping for Eliza.

Gods help him, there was nothing he could do about it. He was being swept away in the currents, too tired to fight any longer.

He didn't sleep, not even when the light outside filtered to darkness and enveloped the room in its inky, velvety protection. All through the night, he held her, ready to strike away any danger that came near, but no demons came but the ones he held inside himself.

Sometime just short of daylight, Claire shifted against him, roused, and opened her eyes. She gasped in pain and blinked.

"How do you feel?" Adam asked immediately, even though he knew from the gasp it couldn't be good.

She made a low sound. "My chest hurts. It feels like someone punched me there." Her voice sound rusty and rough. "How are the witches?"

"Last I heard, fine. I told Thomas to come get me if they were attacked. So far, nothing. Maybe your trick with the elium was more effective than we thought."

"Maybe." She paused. "The spell didn't work. I can still feel the elium inside me."

He kissed her temple. "Yeah, we know. Just try to relax now, okay? The spell Micah used really punched you a good one."

"Is Micah going to try again?"

He pressed his lips together. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

She said nothing for several moments, then turned to face him. Shadows played over the silken skin of her cheek and caught around the curve of her lip. "It's my only chance, Adam."

"He could've killed you."

She shook her head. "He didn't. You were there to stop him before he took it too far."

"What if next time I can't stop him before you really get hurt?"

"Adam, if the spell Micah brews up doesn't take the elium from me, the demons will do more than just hurt me. You know that. We have to be rational about this."

He pulled her close to him. "Yeah, well, let's just take it one moment at a time, okay? Micah hasn't even cooked up a new spell yet."

"It was wrong what you did back at the cabin, forcing me to come here and leaving them behind as bait." Her voice had gone hard and tight.

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "I did the best thing I could to keep you safe."

She lay unresponsive in his arms, not answering. Her breasts rested against his arm and the rise and fall of her breathing calmed him. Her presence was warm, comforting, a little arousing, too, if truth was told, even though he understood she was pissed at him.

His hands slid over her curves, gentling her, trying to make amends without using words. Her breathing hitched and she sighed, her breath warm against his chest. She snuggled in closer to him and her body gave up some of its rigidity.

He let his hands explore a little more until they were both breathing heavier and their bodies were growing warmer, tangling a bit closer.

Neither of them spoke. Adam preferred to use his hands and lips to do that, to make Claire his in the one way he knew best. Little by little, he removed her clothes — got her hot and bothered with his stroking hands and the nips and kisses he landed on her body.

He built her up slowly, gently, aware that she was recovering from a bad trauma. His hands slipped over her breasts, teased her nipples, and explored every peak and valley of them. She parted her thighs for him when he murmured he wanted her to, and his hand slid between them.

He traced every inch of her sex, warm and slick from her growing excitement. Sliding within, her muscles clenched around his thrusting fingers, milking them for the pleasure he gave her as little moans and sighs fell from her lips and her dark eyelashes feathered down against her pale cheek.

Her clit had extended from its hood, swollen and begging for attention. In her sexual abandon, Claire had lain back against the pillows, her hair a tangle around her pretty face. Her hands explored his chest and petted his cock, but he wanted satisfaction for her right now. He wanted to put his mark on her body, if he couldn't put it on her heart. Adam wanted to remind her that he had power over her — the power of pleasure.

So he lowered his mouth to her breast to lick and suck one hard, beautiful nipple while he stroked her aching clit over and over. He drank in the little sounds she made, every one of her sighs. He loved it especially when she moved her hips as though looking for something to fill her and murmured his name.

Finally, her orgasm bloomed over her body with a burst and a long sigh. He rode her through her climax, stroking her steadily to extend the shudders of pleasure as long as they would go.

When it was over, she sagged against the mattress and made a sound of contentment, like a cat in cream. Then she rolled to him, tangled her fingers around his neck, and kissed him.

"Make love to me, Adam," she murmured.

He gently nipped her lower lip and smiled. "Later. You need to recover now. I just couldn't resist touching you a little."

Claire closed her eyes for a moment and he saw her fatigue. "I like to make love with you. It makes the worlds go away for a while. It's like an escape."

"Sleep is an escape, too, and you need sleep more right now."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Of course."

Claire was silent for several moments, fitting her body close to his. "I can't get my mind off the witches, Adam. I don't know if I can sleep."

"Yeah. I'm thinking about them, too, but my primary concern is you at the moment, Claire."

"I will never forgive myself if harm comes to Theo and the others back at the cabin."

His hands slid up her arms, warming her. "You never forgive yourself for anything. You carry the weight of two worlds on your shoulders. Relax a little."

"You aren't the one to be giving advice in that area, Adam. Not with the burden of your wife's death on your heart."

Adam went rigid. "Let's not talk about Eliza." His voice carried a clear note of warning. He meant it, too.

Claire apparently hadn't heard it. She pushed up and leaned back against the pillows, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not talk about Eliza? Adam, I think it's long past time you talked of her. You can't go into the future wearing glasses that taint everything in the present by an event in the past."

He bolted from the bed and pushed a hand through his hair. "I knew I never should have told you about her."

"And what then? You'd have gone on without telling anyone? Just wearing that silly mask of yours to hide the guilt you feel over her death? Adam, it wasn't your fault."

"Claire—"

"If you don't let it go, you'll never have another relationship like the one you had with her." She paused, her lower lip trembling. "You'll never know love again, Adam."

Adam stopped and stared, the words on the tip of his tongue—but I do know love again. But he wasn't going to say that. Not now. Not when she was pushing so hard on issues he didn't want any part of.

Because while he had found love again — totally against his will — he knew he was still holding back. And, gods, he was terrified he'd lose that love again — not be able to hold onto Claire when she most needed him, not be able to protect her even though he felt like he'd been born to do that job.

Claire sat with the blankets clutched in her narrow hands, moonlight spilling in and bleaching the color from her already pale skin. Her dark curls hung around her shoulders like silk and her expression was tight, worried.

Adam whirled and stared at the door, wanting to leave the room with every fiber of his being. He couldn't. He couldn't leave her alone tonight — or at all. There was no escape from her words or the truth in them.

"Adam?"

He turned, realizing he'd been staring at the door for some time. He'd told her he'd stay and he must. The demons could show at any time.

But for the first time since he'd met her all he wanted was to get away from her. She said things he didn't want to hear — and would never want to hear.

Claire awoke to Adam's back. He'd slept that way all night. She knew because she hadn't been able to sleep much at all, falling into a fitful slumber only toward dawn.

It was funny how males—aeamon or Ytrayi—could just roll over and go to sleep after a heated disagreement. Emotions and tempers could rise and it mattered not a bit to them, they just fell right into uninterrupted snores.

She'd been up all night fuming.

What a stubborn man! And so maudlin, too. High-strung. That's what he was. He tried to put on this easygoing, joking face to the world. No one understood the emotional heart of the man within.

Emotional, yes, but he could still fall right to sleep after a fight.

She flopped onto her back and blew out a frustrated breath. He still held on to Eliza so tightly — to his grief and to all that imagined blame and responsibility. The ghost of Eliza wouldn't let him move on into other serious romantic relationships. Claire wasn't sure when she'd decided that maybe she wanted more from Adam than just sex, but at some point her feelings had changed, deepened. But maybe Adam only believed he had sex to offer her.

Maybe he was right.

Claire sighed as a weight settled in her chest. Turning her thoughts away from unpleasant things, which seemed to be most everything these days, she glanced out the window. She could tell by the pale, cold light filtering into the bedroom that the leading edge of dawn approached.

Well, she couldn't sleep another moment. It was time to get up, get dressed. Adam stirred beside her, coming awake. She shot from the bed, gathered her clothes, and went into the hallway bathroom. She'd leave the bedroom bathroom for Adam.

Claire didn't want to face him just yet.

She showered and dressed. Afterward, she eyed a drawer filled with unopened makeup packages. She picked up some eye shadow in shades of brown and held them up to her face. Then she tossed the package back into the drawer. She had no clue how to put the makeup on. Anyway, she didn't need to look extra pretty for Adam, and she definitely didn't need to look any more alluring to the Atrika. Claire studied her reflection. Adam apparently found her attractive just the way she was. Amazing, but true.

When she left the bathroom, she found Adam not too far away. He sat in the living room of the guest apartment, already showered and dressed.

He stood when she came into the room. "Ready?"

Wow, he'd spoken a whole word to her. They were making progress.

She nodded — not quite sure she was ready to speak a whole word to him yet — and they left.

Once they reached the main floor, the eerie sensation of Atrika nearby assaulted her. She stumbled and caught herself against a wall, the elium within her singing to brilliant life at the proximity of a more suitable host.

Adam caught her arm and steadied her. "Claire, what's wrong?"

She raised her bowed head and stared at him through stray tendrils of her hair. "Atrika."

Thomas came down the corridor toward them. "You have to get out of here now. Adam, take Claire and get out. The demons attacked Theo and the witches at the cabin and are undoubtedly on their way here."

They'd already arrived. They were somewhere in the Coven.

Claire went stock-still for a moment — perfectly panicked. They had to get out of here, to the car. They had to become a moving target so the demons couldn't jump to them.

Adam grabbed her arm and dragged her forward, toward the entrance of the Coven.

"How are the witches?" Claire yelled at Thomas, picking up the pace beside Adam.

"Injured. One dead," Thomas called after them. "Now go! Run as far you can, pick no destination so they can't track you. Just keep driving. Never stop."

Houses, she hoped Adam had remembered to fill the gas tank of the Challenger.

Tevan jumped right in front of them.