Lucifer ignored Kelsie’s remarks.
* * *
Baba must have seen a feral female cat in her crystal ball or tea leaves, because he found one while he was out “hunting” that night. Coupling as a cat fueled his affinity almost as much as it did when he was a man, and it was easier to forget about being a human—and all his human inhibitions.
He’d retained enough of himself as a cat to know what he truly wanted. Sex might have been his affinity, and it was pragmatic to fuel himself so that he could power his spells, but all he truly craved was to snuggle up beside Abigail as she slept. It was safer to do so when he wasn’t a man.
When he returned to the cottage after sowing his wild oats, he remained in the form of a cat. He jumped up onto the window ledge and crawled through the gap he’d left open. He had no trouble hopping up the angle of the ladder.
He did so, finally feeling content. They fit better on the bed this way. He decided he should do this more often. She curled around him in her sleep, much like she had done when they’d been young. This had been the only way he’d been allowed to share her bed when they’d been teenagers.
Lucifer had only just dozed off when Abigail jerked away from him and whimpered in her sleep.
Her breath came out in a quiet rush. “Coinneach.”
Lucifer’s ears pricked. He wasn’t certain whether she had truly said the name, or he’d been dreaming himself.
She twisted in the blankets and said the name again. She had been listening in on their conversation earlier, and it must have triggered something in her. She was remembering her past. Her soul remembered who she was, even if her mind didn’t. Lucifer wanted to be hopeful this dream would help her restore more of herself.
At the same time, this had to be the last thing she needed to remember.
She cried in her sleep and shivered. Lucifer batted at her shoulder, trying to wake her. She seemed to be trapped in her dreams. He dismissed the idea of using his claws and kept swatting at her. Finally, she gasped and sat up. He crawled onto her lap and purred to calm her. She scooped him up and clutched him to her chest. The gesture was so like what she used to do, he wanted to believe she was healed and restored.
She kissed the top of his head and lay back down. He remained in her arms for the rest of the night, content to be held. Every once in a while, her hand stroked his fur while she slept, a remnant of muscle memory linked to her past. It had been so long since she’d stroked him like this. It had to mean something. Could it be that he could cure her as a cat but not as a man?
Lucifer slept more deeply than he had in a long time.
* * *
“What the hell are you doing?” Kelsie punched Lucifer in the shoulder. She stood over the bed in a muslin nightgown, the old-fashioned style a sharp contrast to her short blue hair.
“Oi!” He sat up, pulling away from Abigail. Instinctively he raised his hands and placed himself between Kelsie and Abigail to defend her. “What was that for?”
At some point in the night he’d turned back to his human body without realizing it. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, though he had been a teenager before.
Kelsie was the one shaking him now. “Get off her, you dirty son of a succubus.”
“I’m not—we didn’t—” he started.
Kelsie cuffed him on the head.
Abigail sat up, clutching the blankets as she drew into the corner. Lucifer attempted to cover his nudity with the remainder of covers she left him.
Kelsie punched him again. “She’s an innocent child, you old lech. Get your hands off her, and get your clothes on.”
“I wasn’t doing anything with her.” He blocked her next blow and shoved her away. “I went to bed as a cat. I hadn’t realized I’d changed back. We were just sleeping.”
“Sure, you were.” Her tone was heavy with accusation.
Her distrust hurt him worse than her blows. He attempted to appeal to her logic. “Do you really think I could do something to her while you slept without you hearing?”
Kelsie grabbed his pile of clothes where he’d left them on the dresser the night before and threw them at him. “You could if you used a silencing spell.”
“I don’t know a silencing spell. If I did, don’t you think Baba would make me take Abigail hunting with me?”
She clenched her fists. “No. You still wouldn’t be able to go hunting. You might accidentally shoot Abigail.”
“Kelsie,” Baba said, calling from the floor below. “He was cat most of night. Only when sun rose did Celestor magic wear off while he slept.”
Lucifer was surprised Baba was willing to intercede on his behalf. Then again, he’d been diligent in his studies and had been listening to her wisdom, so maybe this was her way of rewarding a good apprentice.
Kelsie jabbed a finger at him. “I’m watching you, buddy. I haven’t forgotten about that time you ‘accidentally’ used incubus magic on me.”
“Come down, Kelsie,” Baba said. “It is time to fetch water and start breakfast.”
Kelsie stomped across the loft. “Pervert,” she muttered under her breath.
Abigail’s eyes were round and worried. Her vocabulary wasn’t large enough to understand Kelsie’s insults, but she could understand anger well enough.
“It’s okay, Abby.” He patted her on the back, afraid Kelsie’s yelling had upset her.
If the worry in her eyes wasn’t from Kelsie’s outburst, it had to be from the remnants of bad dreams from the night before.
“Do you want to go back to sleep?” He tucked her back into bed.
She shook her head. She rolled over and turned away.
“Do you remember having bad dreams last night?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
Lucifer’s brother, Felix, had said the soul had to be persuaded to want to return to the body. The book in Old High German had implied something similar. Baba had said Lucifer had messed it up.
Lucifer had thought that meant he’d done some part of the spell wrong or he’d not been able to use his touch magic correctly. For the first time, he’d wondered whether it was more than that.
Perhaps Abigail didn’t want to remember who she was. It was up to him to help her. Finally, he had a plan, and it didn’t rely on the magic of his affinity.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Marathon down Memory Lane
Lucifer made a list of everything Abigail had once loved. He tallied up every pleasant memory they’d shared together, her favorite foods, activities she’d enjoyed—anything that might make her want to remember who she was. She loved plants, cooking, animals, oaks, and her family.
He bade her sit in the garden with him as he worked and showed her plant magic. As a teenager, she had been the one with natural plant magic, but he’d managed to impress her with showy tricks. He used the same skills again.
“Do you remember the first time I showed you plant magic?” he asked.
She stared at him blankly.
Lucifer scooped a handful of dirt into her palm and planted a seed, showing her how to make a strawberry plant grow. Before their eyes it blossomed, and the fruit began to swell. Her eyes went wide with wonder. He could believe he was helping her relive the past.
The strawberry ripened and turned red. He plucked up the berry and held it out to her. She bit in and closed her eyes. Such overwhelming enjoyment flooded through her that Lucifer felt as though he were savoring the flavor himself. It made him smile to see her take such pleasure in something so simple.
Lucifer showed her how to make the strawberry vines lengthen and sprout more leaves and berries. She grinned when she finally made the vine bloom and the fruit swell. She tore off a green berry and ate it, making a face as she chewed.
He laughed. “You have to wait until it’s red. That’s how you know when it’s ripe.”
That took more time and more magic. Not only was he showing her how to use her plant affinity, b
ut he was brushing up on skills he’d forgotten.
When there was a red berry at last, she snapped it off the vine.
“Good job. You deserve a reward for all that work. Are you going to eat it?” He patted her back.
She leaned into his touch, not so different from the way he snuggled into her hand when he was a cat. He rubbed her back, remembering how he hadn’t minded being her familiar in those thirty years when she had petted him.
She held the berry to her lips, but she didn’t eat this one. She inhaled. With a twinkle in her eyes, she held it up to his lips.
“Are you sharing with me? That’s very thoughtful of you.” He watched her eager expression. “Unless you’re just wanting me to taste it to make sure it isn’t tart like the last one.”
She didn’t answer, only smiled encouragingly. He allowed her to feed him. The strawberry was perfectly sweet, just like her personality. She touched a finger to his lower lip smearing a drop of juice. This moment reminded him of the time he had fed her a strawberry before.
Playfully he bit her finger, and she squealed.
Kelsie stuck her head out of the cottage window. “What are you doing out there?”
“I’m showing Abby how to use her magic.” He grinned, wanting to share his joy with her.
Kelsie rolled her eyes. “We’ve just taught her how to feed herself and not wet the bed. It’s too soon to teach her something complex like magic.”
Abigail made a face at Kelsie. Apparently she understood enough to disagree.
Kelsie ducked back into the cottage, but her voice was loud enough to be heard clearly from where they sat in the garden. “Baba, tell him he’s a fool. There are chores to be done.”
Baba’s response was too quiet to hear. Lucifer helped Abigail plant the strawberries in an empty patch of earth.
“Shall I show you how to do weeding now?” he asked.
She’d always been adept at that, wicking away the nutrients and energy of the plants they didn’t want to grow in the garden so that they turned into dry husks that could be discarded. She then gave that harvested nourishment to the plants they wanted to grow instead. He demonstrated for her.
“For once, you make good choice.” Baba shuffled out of the cottage and nodded to him approvingly. “You know why this is good for you? Alphabet is first step to wisdom.”
He studied her pleased expression. “Because I’m starting with the basics for Abby?”
“Nyet. For yourself. When you teach foundational skill, you must relearn. When you relearn, you master.” She waved a hand at Abigail dismissively. “If she learns something too, so much the better.”
Abigail tugged at his sleeve, showing him how she made a dog rose grow. He stared at the white flower, transfixed on her hands working magic.
“That is weed,” Baba said.
“Yes, but Abby likes flowers,” Lucifer said.
“So do leshi.” Baba pointed to the forest. “Was it not dog rose that you brought home with you? You would be better off burning this one too.”
Abigail hunched protectively over the white flower.
Baba stared off into the shadows of the forest. “If this came from same shoot you brought home with you, he can use that to find Abby.”
“He?” His palms went cold despite the warmth of the day. He whispered, afraid to utter the name, “Do you mean Coinneach?”
“Abby’s Fae lover is dead. You said so yourself. You drained him with electricity, he died after he was crushed with rock, and you buried him. Nyet?” Baba leaned against the bone fence. “Why would you think it is him whom you found?”
Lucifer didn’t have a rational answer for that. Coinneach was dead. There was no reason to assume the other leshi he’d been hearing about were related to the Fae from their past.
When Abigail wasn’t looking, Lucifer tore the dog rose from the earth and threw it into the fire. He could have used his electrical magic on it, but he didn’t want to inflict any harm to the other plants in the garden that were growing as the result of magic.
That day between chores, Lucifer showed Abigail garden magic and cooking. The following day he took her to the forest to find an oak tree. This wasn’t his affinity, which made it difficult to show her how to use a specific plant to power herself. It was good practice, as Baba had said.
He’d never seen Abigail smile so much. Over the following days he demonstrated how to tell the raspberry thorns to bend away from her as they picked leaves for medicinal tea, taught her to allow her feet to lead her toward wild huckleberries, and ways to find water. Every time she accomplished a new task, he hugged her or kissed the top of her head. She basked in the attention. He savored the sensation of simple pleasures each time she experienced something old—but as new.
He whistled to a sparrow and called it down from a tree so that it would perch on his finger and she could pet it. His skills in simple magic—though magic that wasn’t his specialty—steadily increased.
She was just as enthralled as she had been as a teen when he called a doe out of the forest and she had petted the deer’s fur. She stroked the bird’s feathers, cooing at it. He glanced away for a moment to see if there were other animals he could call. In that second of inattention, Abigail grabbed hold of the bird and hugged it. The snap of the bird’s neck drew Lucifer’s attention back to her.
She continued smiling, pressing the bird to her heart, unaware she’d killed it. His stomach flipped. His Abigail would never have been so careless. He needed to be more mindful as well.
Lucifer tried to recreate as many experiences as he could remember from their time together before, and though he enjoyed seeing her take pleasure in everything, he saw no change in her.
She didn’t miraculously return to herself.
His time with her as a teenager had only been a small sliver of their life together. He turned into a black cat before her eyes and cuddled with her. That produced no change in her either. He considered whether seeing Clarissa—or photographs of her family—might help spark memories. But Adam and Missy were dead. They were painful reminders—reasons she wouldn’t want to remember her past.
He would only give her happy experiences to convince her soul to completely attach to this body.
Lucifer woke her at sunrise and dressed for the day. He made her rise to view the pink ridges of clouds lacing the sky. She whined loud enough he thought she might wake Baba, but he managed to get her outside in time. They sat together on a log, wrapped in one of the blankets Baba had knitted.
When they’d been teenagers, they had sometimes held hands or embraced, but Abigail had rarely snuggled up to him like this. They’d been too afraid of drawing out her magic. Lucifer couldn’t tell whether he had better control now or her magic hadn’t fully developed in this new body, so there wasn’t as much to draw out.
Abigail tucked her bare feet under herself and shivered in her nightgown. She leaned her head against his shoulder, barely able to keep her eyes open.
“We used to sneak out at sunset and tell each other secrets.” He stroked her hair. “Do you remember the times we used to do this before?”
She tore her gaze away from the sunrise. The vivid emerald of her irises looked like they were filled with springtime and verdant forest life. She tilted her head to the side, studying him. Her expression was so serious, he wanted to believe she understood him, that she was considering whether she might remember.
She leaned in toward him like she wanted to say something. Her gaze flickered to his mouth. This was like the time he’d wanted to kiss her, and she had wanted to kiss him, but they’d both been too afraid to speak of the matter out loud.
Lucifer leaned in closer to her, but he didn’t touch his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his cheek. This wasn’t like the times she kissed Kelsie or him on the cheek before they retired to bed. That was the slobbery peck of a child. Now her kiss was deliberate.
He closed his eyes a
nd waited, wanting this to be the moment he compelled her memory to return. Her breath brushed against his lips, so faint it might simply have been the breeze, save for her warmth.
His affinity awakened inside him. Yearning flooded through his veins, and it took all his will not to unleash his incubus magic to bewitch her into wanting him as much as he desired her.
She stroked his cheek, her eyes full of familiar tenderness. He leaned forward and scooped her closer. She pressed her lips to his. The smoldering red coals in his core flared into an inferno of pining.
He needed her to remember how much she loved him.
He captured her lips with his and kissed her more deeply, more urgently. She melted against him. Electricity thrummed pleasantly inside him. The afghan fell away, and the chill of the morning air nipped at him through his shirt. The cold was a balm to Lucifer’s feverish flesh. Abigail shivered and drew closer to his warmth.
He expected to feel rapture in her body, the same yearning that was in his own. But the day he’d fed her the strawberry or when he’d called the bird to perch on her finger, greater satisfaction had dwelled inside her.
It was torture to do so, but he forced himself to draw back. He didn’t see ecstasy in her face, only confusion. An orchid had blossomed in her hair. Green sparkles drifted around her. Her magic had intensified, despite his attempt to tamp it down.
“Do you remember?” he asked. “Do you remember kissing me before?”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, drawing back a moment later, a question in her eyes. Whatever she was asking, he couldn’t guess. She planted a quick peck on his cheek and drew back again, that same question in her face.
He couldn’t tell what she remembered, nor what she might be asking. Her expression lacked comprehension.
“I’m sorry.” He avoided her gaze as he wrapped the afghan around her.
Goosebumps rose on his arms, but being outside the blanket was safer. It made him focus on sensations that weren’t his affinity.
She laid her head on his shoulder, just as content as before. She gave no indication she sensed the turmoil churning inside him.
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