The Soother (17 page)

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Authors: Elle J Rossi

BOOK: The Soother
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Calliope opened her mouth but couldn’t find her voice. She was lost in a world of confusion and hope, swimming farther out to sea instead of dragging herself to shore. Krystoff nudged her, breaking the mental hex and prompting a quick response. “It’s as much my fault as it is his,” she said, unsure as to why she was defending him.

Krystoff slid his hand down her back, allowing it to rest at the base of her spine. Calliope leaned into him, needing his strength. “My name is Krystoff Dubhar. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Krystoff stepped around Calliope. Leaving his hand just where it was, he bowed slightly at the waist. Ambra nodded regally. “I’d say the same, but at this moment I’m undecided.”

Calliope was surprised by Ambra’s bluntness. Sure, back in the day, Ambra had been quite the authority. Calliope hadn’t expected her to reclaim that air so soon. She looked at Krystoff to gauge his reaction, torn between defending him and protecting her mother. He only smiled, and then said, “Completely understandable considering the circumstances.”

Ambra smoothed her sweater, slid her gaze from Calliope to Krystoff and back again. “You have feelings for him, daughter?”

Calliope could have died.
Hello, mortification.
A lot of snickering went on behind her. Mainly from the younger witches, if she had to guess. Did she have feelings for Krystoff? Yes, but she was still sorting them out, and doing so in front of an audience was so not going to happen. “I’m glad you’re back, Mama. I truly am. But there are more important things to talk about than Krystoff.”

Krystoff coughed into his hand. “Ouch.”

Calliope bit her lip, offered a quick and contrite glance. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled. “You know what I mean.”

“Do you have knowledge that will help us?” Ambra asked Krystoff before he could reply to Calliope’s apology.

He nodded. “I do.”

Then, as if she had been the leader all along rather than a nearly catatonic recluse, Ambra proclaimed, “Time is of the essence. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Chapter Eighteen

A string of grunts and moans broke through the silence of the night, fracturing any remaining serenity there may have been in Calliope’s world. Every witch had her instructions. Each had been paired up with a sparring partner. Krystoff worked them hard, teaching them fighting techniques reminiscent of ancient wars. Krystoff, along with the stronger witches, had even conjured weapons in the form of swords and crossbows. If the use of firearms wouldn’t have been a dead giveaway of their location, Calliope was certain they would have conjured guns, too. Maybe even a cannon. Not that she was surprised — well, maybe a
little
surprised — but Krystoff had turned out to be a good teacher, leading by example, encouraging rather than belittling. Seeing how he interacted with her coven made her almost want to forgive him for
changing
the rabbits. Almost.

The constant clanging of metal had Calliope’s head throbbing. She’d labeled it all dirty fighting. She wasn’t exactly opposed to it, not when the Mistropans could be — scratch that —
were
marching up the mountain with their own version of nasty. It was just that all this was so new and different to her peaceful coven. Only a handful of the witches — all elders — had ever been in a true battle, and that had been centuries ago when conflict seemed to be all the rage. Until recently, Calliope would have had to count herself amongst the inexperienced. Fighting alongside her sisters and Calliope to save Meera had changed all that. Not that she considered herself an expert by any means.

She watched Krystoff out of the corner of her eye. The lush landscape blurred behind him as if the trees and foliage couldn’t compete with such a magnificent being. Krystoff held his ground, sword in hand as a dark-haired witch charged him. Calliope winced at the sound of the witches piercing and passionate war cry. At the last minute, Krystoff flipped in the air and silently landed behind his confused assailant. Her reflexes were quick. She swung her sword in a tight arc, a smile playing at her lips. She nicked his arm with the tip of her blade. Krystoff retaliated and metal clashed once again as they worked each other in a zigzag pattern. Yes, it was quite clear to Calliope that Krystoff’s partner had seen more than one battle in her lifetime. With each blow, he challenged her with words and strength, never backing down to what some would consider the weaker sex. He obviously took his instructing very seriously, and Calliope had to wonder how much of it was a personal vendetta.

Pulling her focus back to the task at hand, sweat trickled down Calliope’s forehead as she bent to heal yet another twisted ankle. Sprained ankles, bruises, scrapes, mild concussions; you name it, she’d healed it in the last hour. She should have left the minor injuries alone to preserve her energy. Unfortunately, the soother in her wouldn’t allow that. None of the ailments were hers, thankfully. She’d sparred just like all the others. The difference was, she’d somehow managed to come out on the winning side — the unscathed side. A small blessing amidst a plethora of recent disasters.

Between the training, the healing, and the lack of sleep, Calliope was just about tapped. She was treading a very slippery slope and working her way toward dangerous territory. She hadn’t been this worn out in a very long time. But the night was young, so Ambra kept saying. Calliope had to buck up and keep going.

“That should do it, Abby,” Calliope said, sweeping her hand over the girl’s ankle one last time. Calliope closed her hand and the blue healing waves faded. Abby was strong and vibrant, and had attacked her training with more gusto than most her age. Hence the repeat injury. She had already healed Abby twice before. Abby’s attitude along with her springy red curls reminded her of a young Bevva. Calliope took a shaky breath, but the air was too cold to offer any comfort.

“Thanks, Calliope.” Abby stood and brushed her pants off before offering a smile. “I better get back to it.”

Calliope nodded absently, her thoughts once again on her sister’s whereabouts. Ambra hadn’t asked about Bevva yet. And when she did, Calliope had no idea what she would tell her mother. She worried the truth would make Ambra retreat. She’d just gotten her mother back — all bulldog and general-of-the-army like — but she was back and Calliope planned to keep it that way.

“Hey, girl. You okay?”

Yawning, Calliope turned to Tia and smiled weakly. Tia was dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants. The cool mountain air wasn’t enough to keep the glistening sheen of sweat away. The workouts were that intense. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Just ready to collapse
. “What’s up?”

Tia frowned. “Well, I was going to see if you wanted to go a round or two. I’m rethinking that idea right about now.”

“Why is that?” Calliope lifted one brow. “Afraid I’ll beat you?” She tried to laugh, but her voice came out sounding more like peanut brittle than chocolate syrup.


Pfft
. Hardly. From the looks of you, all I need to do is blow hot air like the big bad wolf and you’ll take a tumble.” Tia stepped close and squeezed Calliope’s shoulder. “You really should take a break. Isabelle can help out for awhile.”

Lips pursed, Calliope shook her head. “She’s too young.”

“She’s stronger than you think,” Tia said in response, her tone mildly chastising. “She’s grown up, Calli. She really has.”

She was aware of that. Isabelle had shown her strength more than once over the last few days. Still, Calliope was the eldest soother here and it was her responsibility to take care of everyone. Including Isabelle. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip before continuing. “I know she’s strong, Tia. And yes, she is maturing, but she’s untrained. I can’t leave her to the healing while I take a catnap. We don’t have time for that.” The sound of bickering had her turning and squinting into the dark. “I need to see what that’s all about,” Calliope said on a sigh. “Then we’ll spar. Deal?”

Tia eyed her warily. “Sure.”

Calliope thanked her lucky stars the mountain hadn’t come equipped with mirrors. She closed her eyes and took several calming breaths, centering her magick and collecting her last bit of strength. It didn’t take peering into a looking glass to know her eyes drooped and the circles under them were more than just remnants of smeared make-up. If she had to guess, she figured she was totally rocking the whole zombie thing.

After dealing with the source of the dispute and reminding two angry witches that real biting and hair pulling should be saved for the battlefield and not appropriate during mock skirmishes, Calliope waded through camp in search of Tia. She stumbled more than once, nearly took a header into the campfire and finally fell into a tree. The dizziness she’d been fighting had taken over with a vengeance and was now running the show.

“Hey, angel.”

Krystoff scooped her into his arms. Calliope didn’t have the energy or the desire to fight him. “Hey,” she whispered, eyes fluttering closed. “I just need a minute. I’m not feeling all that well.” Being in his arms had become her safe haven. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she’d come to rely on him. Nevertheless, she reveled in his strength — in simply knowing he was there to pick her up when she’d fallen.

Krystoff brushed a kiss over her brow. “I think you need more than that. You’re doing too much.”

“It needs to be done.” Once this was over, she’d take a vacation. A very long and relaxing vacation. Assuming she survived the Mistropans.

“I’m not saying it doesn’t. But everyone has limitations. I think it’s time you figured out yours.”

Nervy wizard
. He was right, of course. Still, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. “Are we arguing? Don’t answer that.” She waved her hand in the air, and then let her arm drop. It hit Krystoff’s shoulder with a quiet thud. “I really don’t want to argue with you right now. I’m tired of fighting.”

Krystoff chuckled, the sound low and deep. Calliope felt the soothing vibrations in his chest. “I’m really, really tired of fighting.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I can think of much better ways to spend our time.”

“Such as?” She made an effort to lift her head and concentrate. Krystoff eased her back to the comfort of his shoulder with his chin.

“Something entailing immense pleasure, of course.”

• • •

Krystoff carried Calliope to a cavern he’d found while patrolling earlier. It wasn’t large enough to house all the witches, but it would do well for a private and intimate party of two.

With a toss of his hand, he conjured a small fire to keep her warm and to chase away the damp smell that clung to the air. He circled the stagnant air with his staff, swirling until the shadows blocked the entrance. Calliope rested peacefully on his shoulder. Once again, she’d worked herself into exhaustion. He’d watched her stumble, and with each pitch, his heart had taken a nosedive.

“Shhh,” he crooned as he propped her up against the wall. He slid his hands beneath her shirt and pulled it over her head. The sight of her alabaster skin had his shaft thickening.

Calliope slowly lifted her arms in assistance. “I’m sweaty,” she mumbled.

“As am I,” he assured her while bending to remove her shoes. He smiled. Only Calliope would wear knee-high combat boots while exercising.

“Liar. You … don’t sweat.” She lifted one leg.

Placing his hand behind her knee, Krystoff helped her lift her other leg. “Not externally, no. Inside is a completely different story.” That she’d paid that close of attention pleased him to no end. Impatience fought with desire. He could have stripped her naked with a few words. Undressing her slowly proved to be almost more pleasure than he could take. A delicious conundrum, indeed.

“I’m sorry I’m not helping.”

“I’m not. Just relax and let someone else do the work for once.” He peeled off her socks, lingered at her toes. He sucked in a quick breath at the surprising flash of sparkling red nail polish. Forget the cherry on top, he’d eat his dessert from the bottom up.

“Are you qualified?”

“Mmm … Where you’re concerned, I most assuredly am qualified. Very.”

“Then by all means,” she said on a sigh. “You work, I’ll feel.”

Krystoff made quick work of removing her pants and then stood and raked his gaze over her exquisite body. Toned muscles, luscious curves, flawless skin, and the most kissable, perpetually bee-stung lips he had ever seen. He tightened his fist and issued a mental order. Instantly, his clothes fell away like someone had shredded them with a blade. He pressed against Calliope and slid into her liquid heat. He stilled as a delectably wicked chill spread through his body. His muscles trembled with need, forcing him to move once again.

“Feels good, Charmer.” She buried her face against his neck, wound her arms around his shoulders.

“That it does,” Krystoff said, his breath stopping in his throat when her blunt nails dug into his skin.

Time stood still as he sank into her over and over again, torturing them both with languid strokes and heated kisses. Calliope’s sighs and hitched breaths told him she was with him every step of the way. Krystoff knew without a doubt he loved this witch. Mind, body and soul. His urge to protect compounded the feeling tenfold. Eternity could have passed and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was too wrapped up in the very real world of temptation, too lost in the realm of arousal. Every muscle in her body tightened and Krystoff knew they would shatter together. With their joined release came clarification. “I want forever,” he whispered into her ear.

She shuddered but said nothing. That was fine. He didn’t need a declaration of love from her. He’d take whatever he could get, no matter how long it took.

With a groan, Calliope sagged against him. He adjusted his stance to hold her up, then eased back. “Hey, sleepy head,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face with his palm. He didn’t like the bruising he saw under her eyes. Or the slouch of her shoulders. He studied her closely as worry embedded itself beneath his skin. Her shallow breathing had nothing to do with excitement and everything to do with the fact she was on the verge of collapsing. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

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