“Ni, talk to me,” she demanded sharply, probably still feeling the adrenaline dump, though the danger had passed.
“I gotta piss,” was the disgruntled answer she got from him, sending a ripple of much-needed laughter through the group. At least he wasn’t alone in that.
“All right, then. Hang tight, we’re almost done.” They all knelt and grabbed the candles by their feet. They each poured hot wax over the crystal in the center of the circle. They then stood and held hands, chanting again before turning to their altars. Nahia had to relight her candles and reconsecrate her altar, but she did it. From his spot in the darkened passageway, he couldn’t see her injuries, but he planned to check her over the moment it was done.
The feeling in the room, and he’d bet in the whole house, had gone from varying levels of menace and malevolence, to…nothing. A peaceful, quiet, nothing.
The clean up was a lot easier than the set up, spilled blood and solidified wax notwithstanding. He and Nigel joked around as they tore down the covers on the mirrors in the hallway while Nahia and Mags went down to the basement and finished the ritual by smudging the space with sage. Nico feared he would smell like Thanksgiving dinner for the rest of his life, or at least until he showered. Amelia wrapped the crystal in a black cloth with some indecipherable writing on it, and then placed it in a wooden box with a seal before stowing it with the rest of her gear. He wasn’t sad to see it go.
He honestly couldn’t get over the feeling in the house, or rather, the lack thereof. It was now just an old, empty house, and nothing more. He walked from room to room on the second floor, taking in the sun-faded curtains and the beautiful crown moldings. This place would be stunning once they finished remodeling it. He actually looked forward to returning after the construction ceased, if only to see the place in its rightful glory.
Nahia and Mags’ laughter at the top of the stairs brought him out of the bedroom, and his eyes caught on her right hand, now bandaged in a strip torn from the bottom of Mags’ skirt. As soon as she saw him, Nahia left her friend and ran straight to him, launching herself into his arms. The joy and excitement in her smile was contagious, and before she could say anything, he covered her face in kisses. Her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, finally settling his mouth over hers in a deep kiss, all the fear and tension of the previous few hours draining out of them through their connection. She hissed in pain as his arms tightened around her.
“Nye, babe,” he started, as he began to catalogue her battle scars. Her hair would recover, the wax would come out, though the bottom of her braid was singed beyond rescue. Her shoulder around her tank top was a black streaked red and starting to blister a bit. “Damn, honey.”
Cupping the side of his face with her good hand, her lips curled in a wry grin. “Don’t suppose you’d believe it looks worse than it is?”
At her big innocent eyes dancing with her laughter, he crushed her tightly to him, burying his face in her neck. “Do not ever scare me like that again,” he muttered into her soft, slightly damp skin. “I mean it, not ever. My heart can’t take it.”
“Christ Almighty, get a room!” Nigel hollered from where he leaned against the hallway. He was grinning like an idiot and his suit looked like he’d spent the last three hours crawling through an air duct, though he was sure he looked no better.
“Shut it, you!” she mock-growled as she stalked past him to finish taking down her altar and pack up the room. Everything was as it was before, all the chalk markings rubbed out and the circles erased. Surveying her handiwork with a pleased grin, she nodded. “Like we were never here.” She then led them downstairs and out onto the porch for a quick admonition of, “No hitchhikers, no riders, no fares, and I mean it this time!” Then they all left, content to know the work was done.
“So what about Aurelio?” He cast a wary eye toward the house, knowing the garage lurked just around the back.
Nahia slumped into the front seat, the exhaustion practically clinging to every limb. As soon as he joined her in the car and started it, she looked at him with a secretive little grin and said, “We’ll find out when we get home.”
Nigel’s car was gone by the time they pulled up to the apartment, and she felt grateful and guilty at the same time. He needed someone to talk to, and she’d be there for him tomorrow after they hung out with Nonna, but she’d exceeded her drama quotient for the month and really could not cope with taking his on tonight as well.
Plus she wanted to be alone with Nico tonight. More than just letting off steam from the earlier paranormal shenanigans, she was sure he had a million and one questions, and she only had about thirty or forty answers. And they still had to talk about what had happened between them, before everything went all Hellraiser.
She opened the door to her apartment tentatively, looking around for signs of any change. Just because Aurelio evaporated in her car didn’t mean he wasn’t still protecting his property. She had no illusions to that effect, and would have expected nothing less. The box of letters was where they had been left, the salt undisturbed, which gave her more conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to know he was okay, that he had gone to the light, but part of her didn’t want him roaming around her apartment without a chaperone. She hadn’t allowed anyone that luxury, living or dead, until Nico, and had no plans to lift the embargo on the deceased.
While she dropped her backpack by the kitchen table, Nico immediately went into her bathroom and came back with antibiotic ointment, more bandages, and a fine toothed comb. He pressed the comb into her hands as he cleaned and bandaged her burns. She focused her concentration on working the wax out of her hair to keep from wincing in pain. The bottom of her braid beyond the rubber band was a total loss, but she’d deal with that later. Once he was done, she shooed him into the living room and walked into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for a couple bottles of water.
“I feel like I’ve been awake for a month and bathing in turkey stuffing for the last week of it.” Nico sighed and dropped onto her couch.
She snickered, but didn’t disagree, and the itchy new bandages on her back were a testament to it. “Yeah, I’m with you.”
At her words, he sat up a little on the couch. The intensity of his gaze was like a caress against her skin. “Hey.” She turned to look at him fully, and he inclined his head toward the spot next to him on the couch.
Nahia toed off her shoes and approached the couch, taking his hand in hers as he reached out for her when she was close enough. Nico pulled her down next to him, snug up against his side with his arm wrapped possessively around her back and down her side, careful to avoid her wounds. She let her head fall to his chest, just below his chin, and well within kissing range. Her arm wrapped around his waist, they lay there like that for awhile, content in the peace that was them together.
The feeling of being able to take over the world was slowly returning to her, but just listening to the strong steady rhythm of his heart made her feel more relaxed than she had in several days. “Tonight was a lot to ask of you. I’m sorry.”
Nico snorted. “Me? Hell, I’m not the one who had to slice open their hand to get a spirit’s attention.” He pressed a kiss to her widow’s peak and sighed. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
She shrugged in acknowledgment. “It got a little ugly there for a bit, what with the broken protection circles and flying altar pieces and whatnot.” Her fingers trailed over the buttons on the front of his shirt in a half-assed slalom down and back. Mindless repetitive motion that helped to calm her further.
He started chortling as soon as she mentioned the flying altar pieces, descending into a quiet chuckle the rumbled through both of them. “It was definitely ugly, and I’m really surprised I didn’t piss myself, quite honestly.”
She shrugged as much as her position lying halfway on his chest would allow. “Wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”
Another laugh, another quick kiss, his easy affection with her always made her mel
t just a little. “Appreciate it.” With his free hand, he began to play with her braid, holding up the charred end for cursory examination.
Nahia buried her face in his shoulder. “I was terrified.” It was hard to admit she’d wanted to quit right there, but she knew that Nico wouldn’t judge her for it.
He smoothed his hand down her side and linked their fingers together. “You weren’t alone in that. But you stood your ground. I was so damn proud of you. So confident, even in the face of something like that. It was amazing. You were amazing.”
She turned her head to find him gazing down at her with such tenderness and affection. “You’re different, you know?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I mean that in the best possible way. You just... nothing ever gets to you, does it?”
He chuckled quietly and held her tighter. “You sure as hell did.”
“Completely by accident, I assure you.” She paused as she thought about it some more, finally settling on, “I blame Nigel.”
Nico snorted. “I do, too. Might have to buy him a beer.”
“Dominic!” she chided sharply, barely avoiding thumping him on the chest. “Don’t encourage him.”
Her irritation only served to amuse him more, but he kept his thoughts to himself, most likely out of a strong sense of self preservation. She could tell when his thoughts became more serious as the grin fell away by degrees and his eyes darkened. “You’re different, too. You walked into my life and everything changed, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be happy about it. I wasn’t looking for anyone in my life, and I certainly wasn’t expecting you, but now that you’re here…” he sighed deeply and cast his eyes heavenward for a moment like he was building up to something huge, “I have a hard time imagining my life without you.”
Her hand that had been over his heart moved to his hair as she moved up his body for a kiss. His arms tightened around her as soon as her lips touched his, sprawling her out on top of him. The connection was electric, the feel of his warm body beneath hers, his taste on her tongue, his fingers playing in her hair.
Bracing herself on the cushion beneath him, she rose up just enough to start work on the buttons of his shirt, teasing him with each button between succulent kisses. She moved to her knees with one foot braced on the floor, rising up entirely to straddle him as she made her way down to his belt. The bite of his fingers digging into her hips as she tugged at the leather strap made her grin.
His shirt came free of his pants, and Nahia took great pleasure in peeling it back to reveal his delectably sculpted torso encased in the shrink-wrapped white cotton of his undershirt. She traced a line from the notch at the base of his neck down to the waistband of his pants, feeling him squirm beneath her.
“Something I can help you with, Nico?” she asked with wickedness coloring her every word.
He licked his lips as he pulled her down to grind against the part of him that was profoundly happy to see her, replying lightly, “I can think of at least ten things off the top of my head.”
She pouted for effect, leaning down to brush her lips across his teasingly. “Really? Any of them you care to share?”
He wasted no time wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down flush against him. His teeth closed gently around her earlobe and tugged. “You want them alphabetically, or in order of desire?” he rasped as his hands dragged up the back of her tank top and tossed it in the general direction of her bedroom.
The twinkle in his eye as he said it was irresistible, and a quick whimper of amusement escaped as she buried her face in his neck. “Ooh, choices.” Nibbling up his neck and across his jaw, she asked, “May I offer a suggestion of my own?”
His hands on her back slid unerringly to the clasp of her bra. With an edge of desperation in his voice, he replied, “Only if it gets you naked faster.”
She raised her head as the straps of her bra slid down her shoulders. “How are you feeling about the shower? Naked enough for you?”
Nico stilled at the question and looked at her skeptically. “Thanksgiving dinner?”
She nodded sheepishly as she clamped down on her urge to giggle. “Yeah.”
He dropped his head back onto the couch cushion and laughed, which set her off, both of them cracking up until she lost her balance and was no longer astride him on her way to a boneless giggling heap on the floor. Nico was the first to recover his composure, and he rose from the couch, stepping over her now silently giggling form.
Helping her to her feet, he left his arms around her as she got her bearings. “Race you to the showers?”
From where she stood, she saw something she had to attend to on the kitchen table just beyond her boyfriend. “I’ll meet you there. I’m just gonna lock up out here, okay?”
The way Nico kissed her then, tender and teasing yet possessive as he cupped her cheek, his tongue tangling with hers only long enough to make it clear she shouldn’t tarry, warmed her to the soles of her feet. Hooking her bra straps around his wrist, she shooed him off toward the bedroom, while she went to the front door.
Listening for the water to start, she grabbed her tank top from the floor and slipped it over her head. She then killed the light in the kitchen and knelt down next to the table to get into her backpack. The hiss of the showerhead made her smile as she set a white pillar candle they’d used in the ritual on the kitchen table in its shiny marble holder. Muttering a quick entreaty to whatever gods were working on the late shift, she stood and attended to the last thing on her to-do list for the night: took the box from inside its salt barrier and set it next to the candle.
“I don’t know if you’re here, but you’re free now. I took care of him and you’re no longer bound, if you choose not to be.” And she really hoped he’d choose not to be, because the idea of having a ghost in her apartment was weird, and that was coming from someone who normally enjoyed going through haunted houses. “I just wanted you to know, the light’s here if you wanna go. Bless you, Aurelio, and safe travels.” A shadow moved out of the corner of her eye, a human form independent of the dancing flame on the wick and she nodded in acknowledgement.
“You comin’, Nye?” Nico stood in the doorway of the bedroom, backlit by the steamy orange glow of the light coming from her partially closed bathroom door and wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.
Though his question was posed innocently enough, she got the impression she soon would be doing just that. With a deliciously evil grin, she simply strolled past him into the room, dropping clothes as she went. “On my way.”
Nico sighed as he dragged the covers up over their cooling bodies. It took some doing since he didn’t want to dislodge Nahia from her comfy spot nestled on his shoulder. As it was, she murmured wordlessly and cuddled closer to him within the protective circle of his arms.
They were both drifting in and out of slumber due to a potent combination of post-coital torpor and release from the unrelenting stress that had plagued them for the better part of a week. It was a quiet moment they both had more than earned.
This woman, this kind, gentle, distinctly crazy, absurdly beautiful woman, and she was his. He was still kind of shellshocked at the very idea. He’d been happy in his bachelorhood, and hadn’t given a moment’s thought to anything more permanent than a two night stand, three nights if she were truly spectacular. Yet this woman, with her turquoise streaked hair, who had her long legs wrapped around him as she dozed, was welcome to stay as long as she’d have him. Longer if he could convince her otherwise.
“Dominic,” she whispered in her sleep, voice soft and husky, a gentle smile curling her lips. He never got tired of hearing his full name on her lips, the sound so full of affection, even when she was scolding him. He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, her hair still damp and strongly redolent of sandalwood. She’d let him wash it tonight, and trim up the burnt area, deeply personal tasks she allowed him to perform for her, much to his delight.
“What time are we see
ing Nonna tomorrow?” she mumbled as she rose to an elbow and moved her considerable bangs out of her face to look at him though sleepy dark eyes.
“Her and Richard’s plane leaves at three, and I was going to take them to the airport, so I figured noon?” He still wasn’t used to planning things for them as a couple yet, so he wasn’t quite sure what the expectations were. Plus, he had news he wasn’t sure how she’d take. “Ma and Pop wanted to be there, too.
“Not worried about it. I’m sure it’ll be lovely.” She stretched back out in the bed, her head on his shoulder, her arm thrown carelessly across his stomach, the picture of a woman sated to blissful exhaustion. “Love you, Nico,” she muttered as she drifted off to sleep again.
He chuckled silently and pulled her tighter into his embrace, after checking both alarms were set to chime at their appropriate times. The last words on his lips before he joined her in dreamland were, “Love you, too, Nahia Nizhoni.”
Nahia tossed her braid over her shoulder and signaled the waiter for another glass of water. She’d wanted to dress up to see Nico’s family in a black halter and matching capris, but had to settle for the peasant shirt she wore on their first date out of deference to her injuries and the desire not to answer questions about them. The restaurant was great, a bistro with a terrace in the beautiful downtown afternoon sun. The bad part was Nonna had her laughing so hard at her antics; her water glass had been an immediate casualty.
Lunch with Nonna and Richard could never, ever be boring, she decided. Whether it was Nico’s adorably badass gramma correcting the snooty waiter’s Italian, or the bawdy jokes she told, she was completely unstoppable. And Richard, God love him in his cardigan and plaid bow tie, let her do as she pleased, content to contribute where he could and join in the laughter when she got too cheeky. Nahia was going to miss having them around. Nico’s parents were noticeably more taciturn, picking at their salads while they waited for their entrees.
Dead and Disorderly (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 2) Page 23