Witch Heart

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Claire found a bench in the middle of the Coven's conservatory and sat down. The conservatory was a lovely place, filled with all kinds of flowers, birds, plants, and trees. A stream ran through the middle of it, and walking paths with small, picturesque bridges wended their way around the large space. The area brought together air, earth, and water perfectly. To make sure fire was also included, several tall basins sat at regular intervals where steady flames burned.

Above Claire's head stars scattered the darkened sky past the glass ceiling. The moon was full this evening and its light radiated down and joined the illumination given off by the small lights along the walking paths. People walked by her now and again, sometimes couples, all of them talking in low, muted tones. All of them witches.

It was nice to be among her own kind. She had changed so much since the day she'd found herself thrust back to Earth. Now she couldn't remember how — or why — she'd ever wanted to go back to Eudae.

She was home.

Claire closed her eyes and sank into the silence. This was the first time she'd been able to get away from Adam. Not that she wanted to get away from him. She thought his constant need to protect her was unbelievably sweet. It was just that, for now, for a few minutes, she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

She wrapped her arms over her chest and breathed in the flower-scented, warm air. It smelled of earth here, the actual ground, and of magick. In fact, she sensed all the magickal elements this space, just as the Coven founders had intended.

In unison the elements spoke to her — a deep, rich murmur that touched the whole of her. She supposed, oddly, that she had Rue to thank for that. Deep within the heart of her, her magick responded to that cohesive, magick murmur. Air touched air, water touched water, and earth touched earth. Her fire magick reached out and sought fire, danced with it, and retreated.

If only she could bring them all together in her seat.

As they'd worked throughout the day, she'd grown surer that was what Rue had intended all along. She'd always known she'd been an experiment to him, she'd just never understood what kind. Now she thought she knew — he had been trying to make demon magick from the elemental magick of an aeamon, not just seeing if he could get her to wield all four elements.

But she would never, it appeared, have demon magick at the core of her. On the face it, the very idea made her vaguely ill. So she was slightly relieved. Yet, she'd do pretty much anything to keep her power.

One good thing had come from the day's work. Now, at least, she had a much better control over her new ability. Now she could weave the threads together into a rope of all four as she drew them and wield her magick in lots of new ways. If the demons did come back, she felt more confident than ever she could fight them.

Of course, unless the demons came for her this night, she wouldn't need to. She'd be losing all her magick the next day. Losing her magick, but gaining Adam.

It would be a fair trade.

"Claire."

She opened her eyes to see Adam. Claire smiled. "Hello."

"You okay?"

She nodded. "I am. I feel better now, a bit more centered." She stood and held out her hand. He took it. "I'm hungry, though. I say we get something to eat and go to bed."

"Sounds good to me."

They made a meal of vegetable soup and cheese sandwiches on thick-cut rye bread in the kitchen before heading up to Adam's room.

In silence, Adam caught her hand, led her to the bedroom and undressed her slowly, almost with a sense of reverence, leaving kisses over her body as he went that left her breathless. He didn't push her onto the bed, as she'd expected. Instead he slipped her soft, cotton nightgown over her head and kissed her lips.

Claire helped him off with his clothes, enjoying the smooth muscle of his arms, chest, and back under her hands. He left just his boxers on and led her to the bed, where he curled up with her and turned off the light.

Held in Adam's arms, under his lips… Claire felt loved. No, cherished. She felt adored.

She wanted Adam. Wanted him to be hers.

"You mean more to me than anyone," Adam murmured, his voice breaking. His arms encircled her and held her close.

She swallowed hard and the edge of sorrow rose. "What about Eliza?" Her voice shook on the words.

Adam said nothing for a few moments, and then finally he murmured, "I loved Eliza. She was one half of my heart when she was alive and when she died that part of me died." He paused. "Claire, you've brought that half of my heart back to life." His voice held the resonance of wonder. "Only now it belongs to you."

Tears pricked Claire's eyes. She didn't know what to say to that. Anyway, she couldn't speak. There was a lump in her throat.

Adam kissed her forehead. "Eliza was wonderful and I'll always remember her, but I want you, not her, Claire. I love you."

Tears pricked her eyes. These words were the ones she'd longed to hear from him. These were the words she'd secretly wanted to hear from a man she loved since she'd been a girl.

Like a raindrop into parched earth, his words sank in and nourished her. New buds began to grow.

Morning came, as it always did.

Claire opened her eyes and looked out the window of Adam's bedroom. She snuggled back into Adam's arms, taking comfort in the sensation of his smooth, warm skin sliding against hers.

She'd made as much peace as she could with losing her power today, but that didn't mean she didn't feel a pang of sorrow at the morning light on the horizon.

Adam stirred beside her and whispered her name. She turned in his arms and kissed his cheek, rough with stubble.

"Good morning, baby," he rasped in a sleep-roughened voice. "Gods, I love waking up to your beautiful face every day."

She smiled. "And you will continue to do so." He would because she was going to survive whatever was coming their way.

A shadow moved across his face, as though he suddenly remembered what day this was. He recovered nicely, though. "I can't wait."

Claire glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Micah told me to be downstairs at exactly eight a.m. The spell is time sensitive. That gives us just about enough time to bathe and grab a muffin."

He flipped her so suddenly, she yelped. Adam inserted his knee between her thighs and gently slapped her hip, making her yelp again. "No time for… anything else?"

She laughed. "Like you don't get enough as it is. No, that will have to wait until later."

"But I can at least grope you in the shower, right?"

She laughed. "I think there's time for groping."

"There's always time for groping."

They made it down to Micah's spell lab at the designated time. Both Claire and Adam had been thoroughly groped by each other and they both had muffins in their stomachs. Although, when Claire entered the room, she thought for a moment the muffin might come back up.

Micah stood by a table that held a spell pot. various bowls.

and some scattered dried herbs. He looked haggard. His handsome face was drawn and ashen, making him look older than his years. Dark circles marked the flesh beneath his eyes.

The container that would hold the elium sat on a small pedestal in the corner of the room, like a squat, hungry monster. She hoped they'd be able to feed it.

"Didn't you get any sleep, Micah?" Claire asked, making her way into the room. No one else was present. Thomas had chosen to stay away to give them room to work without his sometimes overbearing interference.

Micah turned to them. "A little bit. I was up making sure I had my research right."

"You have me to translate Aemni now, Micah. You should have summoned me. I could have verified things for you."

He shook his head. "You needed your rest more than I did. This spell will mostly count on you expending your energy and will, Claire, not me." He paused. "Anyway, I was okay without your translation help for this. Are you ready?"

Claire held his gaze. "No. No, I'm not ready. I'll never be ready. We just have to do it anyway."

Micah inclined his head. "I understand." He turned to Adam. "I'm not sure you should be here. There's nothing you can do and the spell will look… violent when it's working. You have a need to protect Claire and I understand that, but your interference could really screw things up."

Adam tilted his head to the side and his expression tightened a degree. "I'm not leaving Claire."

Micah sighed. "You have to promise to stand back and let things happen like they have to." His voice grew low and strong. "Do you understand?"

Adam looked at Claire, saying nothing.

Claire knew that if she appeared in pain, he'd be hard-pressed not to leap across the room at Micah like the last time. She wanted him here, but… "Maybe it would be better if you left the room, Adam."

Adam moved his gaze back to Micah. "I'm not leaving, but I'll promise not to interfere… no matter how bad it looks."

Micah shook his head. "Why do I think you're lying?" He turned to the spell pot. "Okay, then. Claire, please lie down on that recliner."

She did as she was asked, lying down on the same inclined chair she'd sat in before. The thing reminded her a little too much of the tooth physician's chair she'd spent so much time in back on Eudae as a child. Plus, memories of the pain she'd experienced the last time she sat here reared their ugly head and made her regret the muffin for the second time that morning.

Adam took a spot near the wall and tried not to look tense. He failed. He shot her an uneasy grin that she returned just as uneasily.

Micah approached her with a bowl in his hand. This was earth magick, an earth spell. A witch like Micah couldn't do anything else. Earth magick was by far the most flexible and useful of the elements, however, so it was fitting he should wield it. The knowledge that Micah possessed was formidable and she was going to enjoy working with him in the future. The bowl smelled of cloves and crushed mugwort and skullcap. She recognized them all from Theo's work at charm-making.

Micah paused above her. "I have to ask you to take off your shirt. I need to put this mixture on your skin over your seat."

"Uh, can I leave my bra on?"

He shrugged. "It's your call. The material will be ruined by the concoction, most likely. It's pretty stinky."

She'd sacrifice the bra. "Good thing it's warm in this room," she muttered as she slid her sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor.

Micah scooped out some of the smelly paste and massaged it into the skin between her breasts, underneath her bra. It tingled and grew warm, immediately sinking into her flesh. The power tingled and pulsed, ready for Micah's invocation.

Micah set the bowl on the table and wiped his fingers off. Then he came back to stand beside her. "Are you ready?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Okay. Take a couple deep breaths and close your eyes, then. Try to relax as much as you can."

Claire settled back against the recliner and let her eyelids drift closed. She did her best to ignore the bone-deep quiver of fear and dread that vibrated through her. She could act brave all she wanted, but inside she screamed for some kind of intervention, some kind of miracle that would let her keep her magick and her life, too.

Micah led her through a guided meditation. It was the normal sort — where the speaker instructs you to relax your toes, your ankles, yours calves… all the way up your body. But around the time she reached her thighs, magick tingled over her skin. Micah's voice grew deeper and more compelling. Once in a while, he would stop the mundane guided meditation and mutter words of power under his breath and the paste on her skin would tingle and pulse even more.

The magick smoothing over her skin intensified and little by little she grew relaxed. Her arm slipped off the side of the recliner and she barely noticed it. Her head lolled to one side. She found herself in the place between sleep and wakefulness, aware but not aware enough to pull herself from the restful stupor her mind was in. Nor did she want to. Again she was under anesthesia of a magickal sort.

Slowly, all her awareness faded. Blackness enveloped her.

When Claire's other arm slipped off the edge of the recliner, Adam took a step forward. Micah had stopped chanting and he understood that Claire was unconscious.

"When will you start?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

Micah glanced at the clock on the table. "In a few minutes. We're right on schedule." He paused and then turned to him. "If this works, if we're able to extract the elium and her magick along with it, you're going to have to help her recover. It will be rough for her both physically and psychologically. Kind of like losing a limb."

"I get that."

Micah glanced at Claire, his voice low. "I don't think she does, not really."

"She's working in survival mode right now. You'd give up your magick to live, right?"

"Yeah, sure. It's just… this has never happened to a witch. In all the reading of our history that I've done, I've never heard of anyone losing their power so completely."

Adam looked at Claire, studied the graceful lines of her face. "It's a real pity, too, someone as powerful as she is."

"Yeah, it's sick and ironic as hell. Out of all of us, it has to be her." He glanced at the clock again. "It's time."

"Great." The word, spoken in a flat voice, fell like a stone into the room.

Micah hesitated a moment longer, then turned back to Claire. Adam took a step away, knowing from experience that earth magick was best worked with a little room. Micah closed his eyes and seemed to gather his power for a moment. He'd be drawing a charm he'd already brewed up and magickally ingested beforehand. All he had to do now was utter his invocation.

Power eased through the room like a snake. The heady, turned-earth scent of Micah's magick filled Adam's nostrils and gathered behind his teeth. It wasn't unpleasant, not really. It was like he was out in a garden, planting green things… not that Adam was often out in a garden planting green things.

On the recliner, Claire stirred, rolling her head and whimpering. Was she already in pain? Adam's stomach clenched and he forced himself not to take a step near her.

Micah muttered under his breath, a series of words that were incomprehensible to Adam's ears. Earth witches all had something close to their own spell language, special words they used as objects of power for their charms. Magick flared over Adam's skin, stronger now and growing more so.

Even he could feel the subtle pull on the seat of his own magick. It freaked him out, but he didn't back away. He trusted Micah not to draw everyone's power in the room.

On the recliner, Claire tossed her head, writhed and called for Adam, making him go tense with a sense of helplessness. Undoubtedly, she felt the pull on the seat of her power, too. Even unconsciously, it had to bother her.

Suddenly Claire's body bowed, her spine arching, and she cried out in agony. This time he couldn't help taking two steps toward her. Micah shot him a chilling look, one that clearly said, Back off. Adam halted near her, hands clenching at his sides and his body taut.

"It's starting to happen," said Micah. "Little by little, the spell is beginning to draw the magick from her body."

"It's just starting?"

Micah nodded. "I created a powerful magnet for her power. It can't resist being dragged toward it. Theoretically, her magick will be yanked out of her seat to the magnet and the elium will have no choice but to come along with it."

"Theoretically?"

"It's not like this has ever been done before, Adam. I can't find a record of any witch who ever wanted to remove their magick."

Claire screamed.

Adam took another step toward her, stopped, whirled, and paced in the opposite direction. He fisted his hands in his hair, feeling it pull out at the roots. "I can feel the magnet, too, yanking on my seat—"

"It won't get ours, Adam. It's tooled especially to Claire."

"I get that!" Adam rounded on Micah and yelled it. "I'm saying that she's feeling what I'm feeling but a million times worse. This spell is just… grabbing her power out of her seat by the roots."

"More or less."

"Fuck, Micah. That's not surgery, that's mutilation!"

Claire cried out again and Micah turned to her, muttering under his breath again.

Adam walked to the wall, leaned against it, and crossed his arms over his chest. He had to do something or he'd go back on his word and interrupt this torment masquerading as a solution.

Micah's mutterings grew louder and more frenzied. Claire thrashed on the recliner and cried out. Over and over she called for Adam until he could take it no longer. Flames born of his high emotion and frustration tickled his palm and jumped from finger to finger, ran up his arms, and over his chest. He raced across the room to Micah, but Micah held up a hand to stay him.

"Stop. I'm done. It's finished," Micah said, his face ashen.

Claire moaned and rocked back and forth on the recliner. Adam pushed past Micah and scooped her up into his arms. She nestled against him as if made specifically to fit against his body and laid her head on his shoulder. Her face was deathly pale and her eyelids purple. Her breathing became shallow and she was cold. It was much the same result as the last spell-casting on her.

"It didn't work," said Micah, his face grim. "The attraction between her power and the magnet wasn't great enough."

"The elium is still in her?"

"As is all her magick."

Adam looked down at the woman on his arms that he'd grown to love so much. Why did that sound like a death sentence?

That meant they were nowhere closer to solving this problem than they'd been this morning.

That meant the demons were coming.

That meant they'd kill her for certain this time.