The Soother (4 page)

She swallowed. “I see you’re feeling better.”
Not to mention looking better.
Calliope gripped the knob tighter and locked her knees in place to keep them from buckling. Already her energy was waning and she’d only been in his presence for thirty seconds. Any replenishment she’d managed to get from seeing her sister witches imbibe in their pre-celebration festivities while preparing the village for Lammas wasn’t nearly enough to keep her strong amidst this shadowed being. His dark energy practically sucked the life right out of her.

Sunlight spilled in from the open door. He stepped back. Calliope opened the door a little more, just enough to have the light licking at his toes. At this point, she’d take any advantage she could get.

As if sensing her distress, the vampire chuckled; the sound low and deep in his chest reminded her of a distant thunderstorm. Smirk firmly in place, he stepped back into the light and cocked his head. Maybe she’d been wrong. She’d pegged him as a vamp, but if that was the case, he shouldn’t be able to tolerate the sun. She sifted through her memory trying to come up with another fanged being. Nothing leapt out at her other than certain shifters, and she just didn’t get that vibe from him. Unsurprisingly, something was very off with Charmer.

The familiar scent of fig lingered in the air. Calliope inhaled deeply. Dill. Chamomile. Pine. Any fear she had hopped in the backseat. Eyes narrowed, she took a step forward and kicked the door closed behind her. “Are you using my herbs?”

The herb thief ran his tongue across his full lower lip, then bit down with one sharp fang. A droplet of blood made a quick appearance before he licked it away. “Considering you used them,” he glanced down and smiled, “all over my body, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Or didn’t care,” she snapped. That really was more the case. Mistropans didn’t respect anyone or anything. She’d known that and had still saved him. Collecting herbs took time, and lately she had precious little of that particular commodity. Her soothing abilities were in high demand within the outer realms. Many of the peace treaties in place amongst the veiled were close to being broken. Thankfully, the animosity had yet to reach her coven. She’d do anything to shield her sister witches from the ugliness polluting the other veiled societies.

Calliope took her fill of Charmer’s body, hoping her gaze made him as uncomfortable as he’d made her. Trying not to linger on his manhood, impressive as it was, she refocused on his upper body. His long, lean lines and caramel skin were completely healed. His face had filled out, though the cheekbones were still prominent. The wound on his torso had sealed without so much as a faint scar. She’d like to think her nursing skills had accomplished this miracle. If so, she’d be able to help a lot more beings. But, no. This was his doing. Just how powerful was he? Her insides turned to jelly and she silently berated herself. It was downright maddening that this dark being made her quiver like a teen witch with her first crush.

“Shall I turn around?”

Calliope’s gaze shot to his. His voice had been matter of fact, but the glimmer in his grey eyes spoke volumes. So much for making him squirm. “Not necessary. I can conjure up something for you to wear if you’d like.” Calliope stretched her arms above her head and waggled her fingers. She dipped her chin and arched one brow. “Then you can be on your way.”

Shadows skated across his chest and reached out. She lurched backward to avoid their inky grasp and stumbled. Strong arms caught her from behind. She hadn’t even seen him move. “Let me go,” she demanded, twisting her body away.

Apparently, obliging was not in his vocabulary. She shivered against the cool touch of his bare skin as he pulled her close with one arm while grabbing the back of a chair with the other. The wood scraped across her kitchen floor. She had little time to protest before he shoved her into the seat.

His breath tickled her ear when he leaned down and whispered, “It appears as though we both could use sustenance.”

Shivering, Calliope’s hands flew to her neck and she shook her head. “Not a chance, Charmer. This blood bank is closed.”

• • •

Her pounding pulse heated Krystoff’s blood and had saliva pooling in his mouth. He swallowed but it wasn’t nearly enough to quench his thirst. Standing behind her, he quickly conjured a pair of jeans and slid them on, then backed away from the inviting skin just below her right ear. This witch’s intense scrutinizing had been quite the test in self-control. One more minute and he would have pinned her against the door and traced his tongue over each and every tattoo decorating her skin.

Krystoff walked around the table and pulled out another chair, flipped it around and sat astride. “Charmer, huh?” He liked the nickname, even though it didn’t suit him. Nothing about his life had been charmed. Blaming Riona would have been easy, but he’d made his own share of mistakes over the years. Something about this witch had him regretting quite a few of those blunders. Perhaps her magick had him ensnared in a spell of remorse.

Her hands found their way to her lap and she sighed. “My sister named you that.”

Red marks in the shape of her fingers marred her pale neck. They would fade, but he didn’t like seeing them at all. He should be the only one marking her neck. What was he thinking? This witch wasn’t his. Nor did he have time for a romp between the sheets — not even a short one. His mother — correction —
Riona
would be looking for him. It would be wise if he sought her out first. Maybe he’d get lucky and find Riona and Scout in the same place.

His blue-eyed angel stared at him, and he realized she’d been waiting for him to speak. “Sister? Ah, the fire witch.” The witch with red hair had incredible aim. She’d fried many Mistropans with one fireball. How many had she taken out after he’d passed out?

Calliope smiled. “Just one of her many talents. Bevva’s a caster.” The smile vanished.

He watched as she pinched her lips shut and shook her head. “It’s okay. Her secret is safe with me.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t.”

She jerked in her seat as if he’d slapped her. He’d never met such a complex being. One moment she looked ready to throttle him, a second later he thought she’d bolt, and yet another blink and the witch appeared ready to join him for a little skin-on-skin action.

Krystoff cleared his throat and attempted to soften his tone. “It’s the least I can do. The two of you saved my life. I owe you at least that.” He stuck out his hand. “Name’s Krystoff.”

Wariness danced in her eyes before she sighed again and accepted his hand. “Calliope.”

Lovely.
“Suits you.” He skimmed his thumb over her knuckle.

She blinked and pulled away, her movements sluggish. “Does it? I never thought so.”

“You’re made to make music and dance under the stars.”

A blush crept across her cheeks. “If only Bevva could hear you now. She’d laugh her way to the moon.” Calliope picked at the chipped black polish on her thumb. “Charmer, indeed. You use those lines on all women, or just the ones who save you from taking a stroll with the banshee?”

Shoving out of her chair, she stomped to the stove and restocked her cabinets with precision. Each methodical movement captivated Krystoff. She waved a glass bottle in front of her face, then placed it on the exact shelf he’d taken it from. He admired her organizational skills.

Krystoff scooted his chair closer. Her pace slowed and a bottle of dill fell from her shaking hands, spilling onto the floor.

“Do I make you nervous?”

Her lashes fluttered open. With a deep breath, she turned and leaned against the counter. “No. You make me tired.”

“I can see that.” Dark circles had formed crescents under her eyes and her shoulders sagged beneath her black T-shirt. “Why?” He’d expect her to be tired if he’d gotten his wish and had some fun in that bed of hers. They’d only had a simple and brief conversation. What could possibly be tiring about that?

Calliope shoved her hair out of her face, exposing the stars around her eye. “It really doesn’t concern you.”

Krystoff rose and flashed across the small room. The kitchen blurred beyond recognition, but it mattered not. He knew exactly where he was going. In less than a second, he stood directly in front of her, then tilted her chin up with a gentle touch of one finger. “Are you sure about that?”

More blinking, followed by, “You need to go.”

He smiled, dipped closer. She smelled of powder and lilacs, sunshine and wildflower meadows. A more alluring combination could not possibly exist. “I’m not ready to go.”

Calliope gripped his shoulders and pushed. Krystoff didn’t budge. He held her in place with his body. When she punched him, he laughed. This witch was feisty. If only he had more time.

“What are you?” she asked with one more futile shove.

He considered lying, and then shrugged. “I’m just a soulless half-breed wizard, but I do believe you’re the one who’s cast a spell.” He couldn’t resist. Krystoff dipped his head one more time, touched his lips to hers and became even more enchanted.

• • •

Heat bloomed in Calliope’s belly and spread like wildfire throughout her body. She meant to shove him away and instead gripped his arms and pulled him closer while standing on tiptoe. Someone moaned — maybe they both had. His skin was deliciously cool to the touch, yet his mouth was made of fire. The contradiction sent her nerves into a tailspin. Her judgment had been off from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. Now she’d really crossed the line and wondered if she’d ever want to find her way back. A wizard? A vamp? He’d said half-breed. Each swoop of his tongue had her craving something more, something that had always been beyond her grasp. Whatever Krystoff was, he certainly knew how to make a girl want to get naked.

Long fingers cradled her face, and then slid through her hair to cup the back of her head. He wedged one strong leg between her two and rotated his hips. Renewed energy raced through her veins and gave her more strength than she’d had in months. She didn’t question it, just went with the exhilaration of the moment and kissed him back while clutching his arms for balance. For someone without a soul, he sure had a lot of passion.

Deft hands coasted down her arms and drifted to her backside, caressing and kneading.
No. Wait.
His fingers were still threaded in her hair. That couldn’t be right. Calliope pulled away and shouldered past him, trying at once to catch her breath and figure out what had just happened. She turned just in time to see his shadows slink away and dive under his skin.

“How could you?”

He smiled and reached for her. “How could I not?”

Calliope slapped his hands away. “I’d tell you to control yourself and your shadows, but that will no longer be necessary.” She pointed to the door. “It’s time for you to go.”

He didn’t budge. “My shadows?”

Those confused eyes wouldn’t fool her, no matter how serious he looked. “Don’t act all innocent. If I wanted your shadows to fondle me, I’d crook my finger and summon them.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you just did,” he said, then leaned against the stove and crossed one ankle over the other.

She pulled her gaze from his low-slung jeans and the cut of his muscles, leveling him with a look that would scare a zombie back into his grave. At least she hoped that was the look she gave him. She’d never been more addled in her life.

“I’ll give you a pass this time, half-breed. You don’t know anything about me. I’d explain a few things to you if we had time.” She glanced at the clock next to the kitchen door. “Oh, how sad is this? I’ve got somewhere to be. When I get back, you will be gone. You and your shadows are no longer welcome in my home. Am I clear?”

“I do believe you’ve made your point, angel. Now, may I offer a bit of advice before we part ways?”

“Oh, yes. Please do. I can’t wait to hear this.” She cupped her ear and leaned toward him. “Come on, bloodsucker. What advice could you possibly give me?”

He smiled, and then invaded her space once again. She hated when he did that. What an abuse of power. Calliope back-stepped until she hit the wall.

Krystoff kissed her on one cheek and then the other. “I suggest you whip up a brew to even out those mood swings of yours.”

Her jaw nearly bounced off the floor. Before she could respond, Krystoff disappeared. She waited, but he didn’t come back. Calliope stomped her foot. How dare he flash first. She’d planned to do just that, and with one breath, he’d completely stolen her thunder.

Calliope spent the rest of the afternoon performing clearing spells, desperate to get any trace of Krystoff out of her home. If she didn’t, she’d never be able to sleep, let alone function. Stripping the sheets from the bed hadn’t rid her bedroom of his dark and dangerous scent. Not even close. Every time she took a breath, she remembered his kiss —
their
kiss. For a few moments, she had been an equal participant. No need for a trial, she’d already pleaded guilty as charged. In her defense, her voluntary participation had only been before those creepy-crawlies had accosted her. Refusing to acknowledge she’d gained any pleasure from their touch made the intrusion just that. Non-existent.

Krystoff had invaded so much of her space with his disturbing and sensual energy she feared she’d be chanting until midnight. As if she didn’t have better and more important things to tend to. Lammas was fast approaching and the need to honor the Harvest Mother took precedent over any other matter. The other witches could certainly use her help, though they seemed to have been doing just fine when she’d visited earlier that day. Nonetheless, she would pull her own weight. Decorating, stocking the booths, sweeping the streets, gathering offerings — anything that still needed to be done.

“Clear this space, and make it free from the wizard’s energy. Keep it safe for mine and me. As I will, so mote it be.” Arms parallel with the floor, she turned a full circle, mentally shoving all the shadows to the corners, up the walls, and out the windows and door. She’d opened each and every pane to air the place out and allow the warming sunlight to filter in. At least she was back to full strength. Ridding her house of shadows gave her a boost equivalent to the flitting high she’d experienced in those brief and insane lustful moments. Analyzing why that had happened was something she wasn’t willing to do. Not now and maybe not ever. Nor would she admit to the possibility that she could have quickly become addicted to those kisses had she allowed him to stay.