Raise the Dead

by C. C. Wood

  Mal hugged me after the door shut behind us. "Go ahead and take a shower. Use my stuff and wear one of my t-shirts. I'll go downstairs and get your things."

  I didn't want him out of my sight. "I'll just call down and ask Jonelle to bring everything when they come upstairs."

  "What's going on?" he asked.

  "I'm not ready for you to be more than three feet from me right now," I admitted. "Everything else can wait."

  Without another word, Mal took my hand and led me through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I stared at the hole in his shirt that rested right over his heart. Those few moments I lost him had been the worst of my life. My stomach rolled when I thought of all the time I'd wasted while I tried to resist my feelings for him. I'd worked so hard to keep him at a distance because of my fear. I'd been afraid of everything but that hadn't saved me. Or him.

  If I hadn't been able to save him today, all my memories of him would be tainted with regret. Of love that I'd almost rejected.

  I was tired of being afraid.

  My fingers trembled when I lifted my hands to the hem of his t-shirt. I stripped it over his head and placed a kiss on the center of his chest where Rafe had stabbed him. No hint of the injury remained on his skin, no scar or redness. It was as if he'd never been hurt.

  Mal helped me remove my shirt and bra. A few minutes later, we were naked and he turned on the water in the shower. Once we were beneath the warm spray, he pulled me into his arms and just held me.

  "We should probably clean up," I muttered against his skin.

  Mal released me and handed me the shampoo. We both washed our hair and bodies twice before the last remnants of black soot went down the drain.

  I dried my hair while Mal dug up a shirt and a pair of his athletic shorts for me to wear. When I came out of the bathroom, the shirt and shorts were lying on the bed and Mal was on the phone with a cup of coffee in his hand. Another mug steamed on the nightstand in front of him.

  He seemed to be ordering food for everyone to share when they came up to the suite. He watched me closely as I dropped the towel and slipped into his clothes. My usual shyness about my body was gone. I think trauma had numbed my self-consciousness.

  Or maybe it was the fact that my body ached as if I'd run a marathon. I managed to pull the shorts on without an issue, but my arms hurt when I tried to pull the shirt over my head.

  Mal said good-bye and put the phone down. He came over to me and helped me pull the material over my head. Once I was covered, he snagged the extra cup of coffee from the nightstand and handed it to me.

  "I thought you might need it."

  "Thanks," I said, lifting the cup to my lips. It was sweet and had plenty of milk.

  "I texted Jonelle. She's bringing your stuff when she and Angie come upstairs after they clean up."

  "Thanks for that too."

  Mal waited until I took another sip and put the cup down before he said, "We need to talk about what happened."

  I was glad I wasn't holding the coffee mug any longer because my hands trembled. "I don't know if I can."

  Mal pulled me onto the bed with him and I curled up against his side.

  "Do you remember anything after Rafe—" My throat closed up before I could finish the question. I couldn't say the words. Rafe had killed him. Murdered him in cold blood. I realized now it was actually Beatrix. Rafe had no control and his will was hers.

  Mal's arms tightened around my shoulders. "Just darkness." He was silent for a long moment. "How did you bring me back?"

  "Remember Adrian? I mean, Death?"

  "Your ancestor?"

  "He gave me the knowledge I needed to access his power. He couldn't help me, or save you, so he gave me the tools to do it myself."

  Mal inhaled sharply. "Do you still have the power?"

  I shook my head. "No. I couldn't contain that much magic for long. It would kill me. He just gave me the means to access it."

  "Whatever he did, I'm grateful," Mal said.

  "I am, too." I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. The echoes of those long minutes without him still resonated within me. He was here with me, right now. That's all that mattered.

  "And Angie saved us all."

  "She did. Remind me to ask her how to make a protection amulet for you," I muttered.

  Mal grunted.

  "Mal?"

  "Yes, Zoe?"

  I lifted my head and looked into his beautiful brown eyes. "Don't ever leave me."

  He cupped my cheek in his hand and kissed me. It was gentle and tender. "I would never leave you. I love you."

  "Enough to marry me?" I asked.

  His brows rose. I'd managed to surprise him. "Is that a proposal?"

  "It is," I answered. I was done being careful and hiding from life. I'd spent enough time around ghosts to know that they regretted the things they hadn't done the most. "Do I get an answer?"

  "Yes, I do want to marry you." Mal kissed me again then released me with a laugh. "Though you've shot all my romantic proposal plans to hell."

  "You had plans to propose to me?" I asked, my voice little more than a squeak.

  "Oh, yeah. For a while now."

  "A while? How long is a while?"

  Mal grinned. "Probably since the day I found you eating peanut butter on your front porch and reading a bodice ripper. It was pretty good, by the way."

  "What? The peanut butter?"

  "No, the book."

  Despite everything we'd been through in the past few hours, I smiled. "You read it?"

  "I ordered a copy that night and had it delivered to the hotel. I was pleasantly surprised." His smile widened. "I may have even blushed a few times."

  I had to laugh at the mental image of Mal reading a sexy historical romance. "I have plenty on my bookshelf at home if you want to borrow them."

  "How about you read them aloud to me?"

  I leaned closer to kiss him again but someone knocked on the door.

  "That'll be Jonelle with your stuff. Or maybe room service. I'll be right back."

  Mal released me and climbed off the bed. I watched him leave the room, marveling that such a kind and beautiful man would want to marry me. It was something I hadn't dared to dream of.

  But I should have.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The sitting room of Mal's suite was crowded. Everyone was freshly showered, drinking coffee, and munching on fruit, toast, and yogurt.

  The entire night seemed surreal. It was only nine in the morning but it felt like it had been days rather than a handful of hours since Francesca stumbled into this suite and teleported Mal and Jonelle away.

  Everyone looked pale and worn down. Jonelle had brought up my suitcase and toiletry bag. Instead of changing into a pair of shorts and t-shirt of my own, I'd kept on Mal's huge tee, put a bra on underneath it, and added a pair of pajama pants. We weren't planning to leave the room anytime soon and I needed the comforting sensation of the soft fabric against my skin.

  I sat on one end of the couch, Angie on the other, and Jonelle in between us. Stony lounged on the floor by Jonelle's feet and Blaine and Mal sat in the chairs on each end of the sofa. Teri hovered near my elbow on the arm of the sofa. She'd given me a little privacy with Mal when we got back to the hotel, but reappeared when everyone else came to his suite.

  She hadn't left my side since. I couldn't be sure until I spoke privately with her, but I think that being trapped in complete darkness had unnerved Teri. Or maybe it was the fact that I'd nearly been burned in a fire, watched the man I loved as he was stabbed in the heart, and almost shot in the last six hours.

  Either way, I doubted she would give me too much space for the foreseeable future.

  We were just finishing up our meal when someone knocked on the suite door. With a frown, Mal got up and looked through the peephole.

  He turned back toward us. "It's Francesca and Selene."

  Angie got to her feet. "Let them in, please."

  Mal opened the door to
reveal the woman and her daughter. They both looked pale and tired, but otherwise whole. They were a great deal cleaner than they had been. They must have gone home to clean up before coming here.

  "May we come in?" Francesca asked.

  Mal stepped back and they entered the room. Selene took her mother's arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, helping the woman walk on unsteady legs.

  Blaine got up and let Francesca sit in his chair. She leaned back with a heavy sigh.

  "I want to start by apologizing," she began. "I'm so sorry that I kidnapped you." She looked at Mal, then Jonelle. "They said they would—" She choked on the word and her face crumpled. She fought back the emotion and cleared her throat. "They said they would kill Selene if I didn't do what they wanted. She's all I have. I had no friends with magic here and I wasn't sure I could trust you to help me. There aren't many witches who have enough power to take on Beatrix."

  I was torn. I could understand her fear and her willingness to do whatever was necessary to save her child. But her actions resulted in Mal's death, and thinking about it filled me with pure rage.

  But Mal was a better person than I was. He crouched next to her. "I understand, Francesca. It all turned out okay."

  Jonelle didn't say anything but she wasn't glaring at the woman either.

  Selene approached me, giving Teri a wide berth. She was small, tinier than I expected for her age, and delicate. With her long auburn hair and glowing hazel eyes, she looked like a forest sprite. But she didn't look mischievous or sweet. She looked mournful.

  "I'm sorry, too," she said, her voice soft and high, like tiny bells ringing. The magic emanating from her created a beautiful crystalline corona around her head and shoulders, pure and bright. "I didn't want to lure you into a trap, but they were starving my mother to death. I couldn't leave her to that."

  Tears filled her brilliant gold and green eyes, making them sparkle like gems.

  Suddenly, I understood why Mal and Jonelle were willing to forgive Francesca. Looking into Selene's eyes, I couldn't hold a grudge.

  "It's okay, Selene. You did what you had to do to survive."

  She sniffled a little. "You'll forgive me?"

  "I already have," I replied.

  She stepped forward and threw her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I patted her back, feeling more awkward than usual.

  "Thank you for coming to help us," she said, her voice muffled.

  I had no words. You're welcome didn't seem like an appropriate reply in this case.

  Finally, I settled for, "I'm happy you and your mom are safe now."

  She squeezed me for one more moment then released me. As Selene backed away, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled tremulously.

  "Is there anything we can do for you?" Mal asked Francesca.

  God, I loved that man. This woman kidnapped him, which led to his death, and now he was offering to help her.

  It seemed Francesca felt the same way because her face crumpled. She fought back the sobs until her emotions were completely locked down. "Thank you for the kind offer, but it wouldn't be right."

  "Forget right or wrong," Mal said, a stubborn set to his jaw. "The two of you are victims in this as much as we are."

  "We'll be okay," Francesca insisted. "I think we're going to pack up and try to find another place. One without so many bad memories."

  Angie appeared next to Francesca, a plate of food in her hand. "There's always room for the two of you in my coven."

  Angie held out the plate and Francesca took it, her expression hesitant.

  "Why would you do that for me?" Francesca asked.

  "Because witches should help each other, especially when one of their own is in trouble. Subjugation, stealing power, sacrificing others, those are things that we do not tolerate in my coven. You and Selene would be safe there."

  A tear rolled down Francesca's face. "I—" She couldn't speak. She shook her head. "I don't know."

  "Think about it. I'll give you my card before we leave. If you decide it's what you want, call me. We can help you find work if you need it."

  Francesca dashed the solitary tear away. "That's okay. I own my own business. I sell handmade items online and practice tarot." She held her hand out to Selene, who crossed the room to kneel beside her. "Selene helps me."

  "Eat. You don't have to give us an answer right now," Angie said.

  She moved back to the coffee table and put together a plate for Selene. The little girl smiled and thanked her before she plopped on the carpet at her mother's feet and began to devour the food with relish.

  Francesca moved and her shirt shifted to reveal her collarbone. It stood out, stark and frail. It made me angry all over again. Beatrix had starved this poor woman until she was nearly emaciated. In that moment, I had no regret over her death.

  "So what's our next move?" Blaine asked. He'd been extremely quiet this morning, watching Mal closely, almost as if he expected him to crash to the floor at any moment.

  I had no clue. I looked at Angie and Mal, hoping that they would have something to say, but neither of them spoke.

  "No one has a plan?" Blaine sounded shocked.

  Mal shrugged. "I have no idea what we should do." He looked at Angie. "What do covens usually do when their leader leaves or passes away?"

  "It depends. Sometimes another witch steps up as acting high priestess until a decision can be reached on who should take over permanently. In this case, I think the coven will be disbanded."

  "Who decides that?" Mal asked.

  "The South Council."

  "You have a witch council?" Stony asked.

  I was glad he asked because I was curious as well.

  Angie nodded. "Divided by region. There are six regions. Any issues or conflicts that can't be solved by region are brought before the North American Council. They preside over all the regions."

  "Why do you think the coven will be disbanded?" Curiosity got the better of me and I had to ask.

  Angie's eyes came to me and I saw it then. The rage. Her anger was monumental and fiery. This entire situation had pissed her off beyond belief. "Because I'm a member of the South Council and I'm going to recommend it. Some of the witches here are good men and women, but there were too many in that basement that supported Beatrix. They carried her stain. Those who helped her willingly will have their magic bound and be exiled from the witch community. Unfortunately, quite a few of them ran away when it became clear that Beatrix would lose the battle. I'll have to find them and complete their punishment."

  Francesca looked relieved. No one would be coming for her and her daughter.

  "So what's next for us?" I chimed in.

  Angie shrugged. "What do you want to do?"

  I glanced at Mal, who also shrugged. No one had any ideas it seemed.

  "If the police don't ask us to stay, I think we need to get home." It would be a long, long time before I would be able to put this nightmare behind me. I locked gazes with Angie again. "Plus, I have a lot to learn."

  Until I was trained in how to use my magic and learned everything I could, I would be helpless and ignorant. And I hated that feeling. I hadn't been able to protect Mal and Jonelle or anyone else I cared about and I never wanted to be in that position again.

  "I know you want to get started," Angie said. "But I'm going to stay for a few days. There are some things I need to take care of before I can head back to Fort Worth."

  My eyes shifted to Mal, who was watching me closely. "It can wait a week."

  I'd come into my power and I would learn how to use it. But I also wanted to live.

  I was a daughter of Death and I understood now that Death would come for all of us. Eventually.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Three days later, I woke up in my own bed. The remaining shreds of the nightmare trailed through my mind, leaving me unsure what was real or not. I lay still, staring at the nightstand in front of me. A heavy arm was thrown over my middle and a muscled, half-n
aked body curved around my back.

  I shifted, stretching my muscles out, and Mal's arm tightened around me.

  He pulled me deeper into his embrace. My bottom leg was straight and my left leg bent slightly. His thigh moved to line up with my left leg, which effectively pinned my right leg to the bed.

  "Hmmm. Why are you awake so early?" he asked.

  Considering I hadn't let him out of my sight, with the exception of bathroom breaks, for the last three days, I didn't think I should tell him that I'd had another sickening dream that featured his lifeless body lying in my arms.

  "Just woke up," I answered.

  Suddenly, he moved and rolled me over onto my back. He hovered over me, his dark hair a mess of spikes. His brown eyes were sleepy but still concerned. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

  I sighed. "Why do you bother asking me if you already know?" I asked.

  A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "Because you should be able to tell me anything and I want you to know that."

  I lifted my hand and touched his cheek, running my thumb along his cheekbone. "I know, but I don't like talking about it." The memory still had a sharp edge. I doubted it would ever dull.

  Mal brushed my hair away from my face. "I hate it. I hate that you went through that and I wasn't there."

  I blinked several times in an effort to hold back the tears that filled my eyes. "Can we please stop talking about it?"

  Mal nodded, his eyes soft. I loved how he looked at me. I could see exactly how he felt about me in his eyes. He never tried to hide it.

  I was the one hiding. And he found me anyway.

  But I was done keeping my emotions under lock and key. I could have lost him forever.

  "I love you." I watched his face as I said it, absorbing every detail, every change.

  He kissed me and I gave him everything. The rest of the world faded away. Every time we'd made love since the first, I'd felt wild and impatient, almost desperate.

  This morning was different. When Mal stripped the thin camisole off my body, I luxuriated in the sensation of his skin against mine. His kisses were tender and his hands were gentle. I didn't feel the urgency that hounded me since he'd died in my arms.