Midnight Shaman, Fire Witch
Page 9
She studied him, waiting for him to reply, but when didn’t say anything, she frowned. “Consider this a warning, Damien. Remember the Rule of Three.”
He knew what she meant. Whatever you do comes back to you threefold. If he broke his oath, he would suffer three times the pain the pleasure would bring. “I understand.”
She hesitated, then nodded. Turning without another word, she walked back over the ash-covered ground toward the trees.
Damien looked up at the full moon, closing his eyes and letting the pearly white light wash over him. He could still taste Kimi, could feel the press of her hips against his, the heaviness of her breast in his hand. By kissing her, he’d chosen a path, set the wheels in motion toward a fate he wasn’t sure was good for him or the world in general. But it was too late. He’d jumped into the deep ocean, head first.
He opened his eyes and began to walk back to the house, a small smile touching his lips.
Kimi pushed through the trees, her heart pounding. What was she thinking? How could she have forced Damien to kiss her like that?
Had she forced him? Surely, he couldn’t be forced to do anything he didn’t want to do. Still, she shouldn’t fool herself. She had encouraged him. He hadn’t planned to kiss her, but she’d tempted him, urged him on. She’d been aware of his reluctance and conscious of the intensity of the moment as he considered what he was doing. Her heart had swelled at the moment he gave in.
But what was Margaret saying to him now? Kimi remembered Ella’s warning that an Elder who broke their oath had their powers removed. Oh God, was Margaret punishing him at that very moment?
Kimi had no idea what strange connection she had with Damien, but a connection there definitely was, and, in spite of all the self-control he apparently had, it seemed almost non-existent where she was concerned. She felt a deep thrill at that thought. He’d never lost control before—and yet after one night he was kissing her, touching her. Why? What was between them that made him so weak?
That thought brought her up short. Is that what she wanted, to make him weak, useless against the forces of darkness? Unbidden, the memory of her mother and father arguing flashed through her mind. Witchcraft may not be evil, but it did corrupt people and turn them against one another. Surely, if she was his Achilles’ Heel, it was up to her to keep away from him. She could not be responsible for him losing his powers. No kiss, no sex was worth that.
Well, maybe it would be worth it temporarily. She remembered his hips pressed to hers and the hardness of him against the flat of her stomach. Clearly, he’d wanted her badly. Lust flared through her, and she shivered. She couldn’t shake the feeling they were being drawn together like two powerful magnets, and it was going to be impossible to keep themselves apart. How would it feel to give in to such desire?
She shook her head crossly. He would very quickly regret it. Once he’d slaked his lust, he would never forgive her for being the reason he was no longer a shaman. His power was the very essence of him, and he’d be lost without it. And she couldn’t bear for him to look at her with anger or hatred. She couldn’t bear it if the same thing happened to her as happened to her mother. Equally, the thought of exposing herself to the energies they’d unleashed that night frightened her. She had absolutely no control over her power, and coming into close contact with him was like putting a live cable into water. It was up to her to make sure they never touched again.
She thought of his deep blue eyes and the way he looked at her, as if he’d been walking for weeks in the desert and she was a bottle of cool, clear water.
It was not going to be easy.
“Kimi?”
She jumped, then realised it was only Ella, waiting nervously at the edge of the wood.
Ella sighed with relief. “Oh thank the Goddess, they said there were vampires out here, and I thought they got you!”
“Not quite,” said Kimi, suddenly shaky, although whether it was from the thought of the vampires or from Damien’s kiss, she wasn’t sure.
Ella studied her. Then she smiled. “Come on. You look like hell! Why don’t we get you back to the room, and you can have a shower?”
“I hurt my hand…” Kimi began to say, then looked down at it. It had stopped throbbing, and the wound had closed over. Damien had taken her hand when Margaret appeared. Was that when he’d healed it? “Doesn’t matter,” she added, glowing inside.
“Come on.” Ella said nothing else, leading her up the road toward the house. Lights were on around the drive now, and there were people everywhere, of both sexes, all ages. They looked at her curiously as they walked up, but Ella led her straight up the steps and indoors, shaking her head as a couple of people went to say something.
Inside, Kimi saw Robert had already returned and was talking to Margaret. Did that mean Margaret hadn’t taken Damien’s powers away? They both looked over at her as she entered, and she shivered as Robert frowned.
Ella saw the movement. “Quick, up to the shower and then off to bed with you!” She led Kimi up the stairs to their room.
“I don’t have any other clothes,” Kimi realised, her teeth beginning to chatter.
“I have a pair of pyjamas you can borrow and I’m sure there’s something I can lend you for tomorrow, until you get your own stuff. Go on, get in the shower—there’s shampoo and stuff there, use whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” Kimi said, tears coming into her eyes at the other girl’s kindness.
“Hey, it’s what we do here,” said Ella, giving her a hug. “It’s not easy, being involved in this sort of stuff. That’s why The Crux is such a great place—it’s very supportive. They’re here to help us, you know.”
“Have you been here long?” Kimi asked, stripping off her sweat-soaked T-shirt and jeans and shyly accepting the towel from Ella.
“Students come here from all over England, usually for anything from two weeks to a few months, until they feel ready, you know? But I’ve been here a bit longer, nearly a year now. I came as a student, but they thought I could be useful with the new girls and help them get settled.” She smiled. “Your eyes are nearly closed. Go and have a quick shower, then get into bed. You can sort everything out tomorrow.”
Kimi nodded and went into the bathroom. She set the shower to hot and stripped off her underwear, then got under the scalding water. It made her gasp, but it finally drove away the last of the shivers. She scrubbed herself from head to toe and washed her hair, then emerged glowing and squeaky clean. She put on the spare pyjamas and borrowed Ella’s hair dryer, then finally went back into the bedroom. Ella was waiting. She’d turned down the bed and directed Kimi to slip inside.
“I’m popping out to see what’s going on,” she said, “But I’ll be back up very shortly.” She gave Kimi a warning look. “No sneaking out, now. Tomorrow, if you want to leave, they’ll let you, but you must make sure you’re safe first.”
“I won’t,” said Kimi. She turned on her side and pulled the quilt around her.
Ella nodded and went out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Kimi lay there for a moment. She should think about what she was doing—did she really want to stay? Did she want to help with this invasion? What did she think about her new, amazing talent?
But as she began to doze off, her thoughts drifted to Damien and the way he’d hunted down the vampire in the woods, keeping her safe, then found her and kissed her in a way she’d never been kissed before. The memory of his lips on hers accompanied her into the land of sleep.
Chapter Ten
When she awoke, her watch and the sunshine outside told her it was after ten. She sat up, shocked—she was normally an early riser and was stunned to see it so late. But then she probably hadn’t got to bed until about three, she reminded herself.
There was no sign of Ella, but her roommate had left a change of clothes lying across the armchair. Kimi got up and inspected them: bra and knickers, a pale pink T-shirt, and soft grey trousers. There was no sign of her own clothes
. She tried out the new ones—the knickers were fine, but the bra was far too big, Ella being decidedly more generous in that department than herself. She would have to go bra-less. The trousers were a bit long, but comfortable, and the T-shirt was pleasant enough. She brushed her hair with Ella’s brush, then used a bit of her toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth. Finally she couldn’t put it off any longer—she had to go downstairs.
Her shoes were missing too, and Ella had obviously forgotten to leave her a replacement pair. Barefoot, Kimi opened the door and went cautiously into the corridor.
The house was quiet. She walked along the corridor to the stairs and went down them. Where should she go? Where was everyone? Through the fog of tiredness, she vaguely remembered a good fifty or so people outside the house the night before, but now there was no sign of anyone.
In the foyer, she finally met someone: a middle-aged woman carrying a basketful of washing, who smiled pleasantly at Kimi’s nervous ‘hello’.
“Hi, you must be Kimi. I’m Sue,” said the woman. “I’m in charge of laundry here.”
“I was just wondering where everyone was,” Kimi said. “It’s very quiet.”
“Oh most of them are in classes—they usually start around nine. But some of them have stopped for a break—they’ll be in the Day Room—just over there. You’ll be able to get a coffee and muffins or something if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks.” Kimi swallowed as Sue went off carrying the basket. She walked over to the room Sue had indicated. The door was open, and she could hear voices inside. Part of her wanted to just turn around and go back up to the room. She was a loner—always had been, and wasn’t used to spending much time with other people. But she was desperate for a cup of coffee.
She went over to the door and paused, looking around. There were about ten or eleven people in the room, most of them sipping coffee and eating muffins from the large piles that graced the long tables along one side of the room.
The first thing she noticed was Damien, a few feet away from her, talking to a couple of men his own age she hadn’t seen before. She let out a shaky sigh of relief. Clearly, they hadn’t banished him from The Crux or anything. Maybe Margaret had let him off this time. He had his back to her, but didn’t turn around, and she wasn’t sure whether to go up to him or not. She didn’t recognise anyone else in the room. There were coffee pots on one of the tables, and she thought maybe she’d go and pour herself a cup, and then it was up to him if he came over to her.
As she walked behind him, however, he reached out a hand and caught hers, holding it tightly, stopping her in her tracks. Her heart gave a little jump—she hadn’t even realised he knew she was there. He still didn’t turn around, but let one of the men finish off his conversation, although she saw the other man glance across at her curiously.
She waited shyly as the conversation finished. Then Damien turned and looked at her.
“Morning,” he said, smiling. He looked her up and down, noting her lack of shoes, and, she was sure by the way his eyes lingered, her lack of a bra. “You look…nice.”
She made a conscious effort not to cross her arms over her chest. “Hi.” Why was he still holding her hand? She slid hers from his discreetly. She must remember her plan to keep her distance.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
“Like the proverbial log.”
“Good.” He introduced her to the two men, although she knew she wouldn’t remember their names. “Coffee?” he asked after they’d shaken hands.
“Please.”
He walked over to the table. He’d changed into khaki combat-style trousers and a stone-coloured linen shirt, and he smelled of his usual sandalwood and lemon soap, stirring her senses.
He poured her a coffee and brought it over. “You’d better have something to eat. Want me to get you a cooked breakfast?”
“Oh good grief, no thank you. A muffin will be fine.”
“Only if you promise to have a big lunch.”
“Yes sir,” she said, exasperated.
He grinned and passed her a plate and she chose a chocolate one. “So you’re still here, then,” she observed. He gave her a curious look. “I mean you weren’t thrown out, or anything? Still have your powers?”
“Yes. I got a warning, that’s all.”
Her smile faded. “Oh.”
“Don’t worry.” His eyes were warm. “It was worth it.”
She didn’t want to have that conversation with him. She took a bite out of the muffin and looked around the room as she ate. “Is this one of your classes?” she asked, trying to change the topic.
“Yes. We finished a bit early.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got about half an hour before my next one. Shall I give you a quick tour of the place? Perhaps we can find you some shoes. I can run you back to your flat to pick some things up tomorrow. If you choose to stay, that is.”
She met his gaze, then lowered her eyes. “I haven’t decided yet.” He said nothing, and eventually she raised her eyes to see him studying her. “I shouldn’t,” she said softly. “We both know I shouldn’t.”
He remained silent. His gaze was resting on her lips and she knew he was thinking about their kiss in the woods.
“Don’t…” she said, the hairs standing up on her neck and arms.
He looked amused. “What?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He was teasing her now.
“Damien, seriously. I… I’ve got to keep away from you and it makes it so much harder when you look at me like I’m a huge bar of chocolate.” In spite of her attempt at lightening the conversation, tears pricked her eyelids. “I was nearly responsible for you losing your powers. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Hey,” he said, all humour vanishing, “anything that happens to me will be my fault and my fault alone. I’m a big boy—I’m completely capable of restraining myself. If I don’t…that’s because I’ve chosen not to.”
She knew that was only half-true. “But if I wasn’t here, there’d be no choice to be made,” she whispered.
He tipped his head. “Maybe.” He started to smile. “But life would be a lot duller.” He took her empty coffee cup from her hand and put it on the table. “Come on—let’s have a look around the house.”
“Don’t Robert and Margaret want to see me?” she protested as he caught her hand again and led her out of the room. She was sure she was going to have to face up to them for what she’d done the night before. Surely tempting one of the two important Midnight Shamans away from his duties wasn’t something she’d get away with lightly.
Damien shrugged. “Dunno. Don’t care.” He led her out of the room and across the foyer. She looked up at him. There was a slight frown on his face, and his jaw was set stubbornly. He’d defied Margaret. The thought sent a wave of mixed pleasure and panic through her.
“The west wing of the house has all the classrooms,” he said, leading her through an archway in the centre of the west wall of the foyer, which turned out to be a corridor that stretched the length of the house. There were doors either side of the corridor, some of which were open. He stopped by one and she looked into the empty room. It was large and airy, with windows that looked out onto a beautiful lawn at the back of the house. It wasn’t quite the sort of classroom she was used to—there were no desks or chairs and the floor was littered with coloured beanbags, although there was a whiteboard to one side. “This is a meditation room,” he clarified.
“Oh.”
“Meditation is a key part of our studies. Learning to still the mind is an art and it can take years. You can sit in on a class later, if you like.”
“Okay.”
Still holding her hand, he walked further down the corridor.
“You can let go,” she said wryly. “I promise I won’t run away.”
“I like touching you.” He stopped and looked down at her. “I’d rather it be another part of your anatomy but your hand will have to do…for now.�
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Her cheeks warmed. “Damien…”
He laughed and continued to the next room. “This is a standard classroom.”
She peered in. This time there were desks and chairs in a U-shape around the room, with a whiteboard at the front. She swallowed. “School makes me nervous.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s not like that. Everyone’s here to learn. It’s not about passing exams. If you don’t like a class, you get up and walk out. We’re all adults. If you don’t get on with one of us, you can just go into someone else’s class.”
“Does anyone ever leave your classes?”
“Well, no. But the option’s there.”
Of course they wouldn’t. She was sure his classes were heaving with women, all with “I love you” written on their eyelids like the students taught by Indiana Jones.
“Further on there are smaller rooms for individual practice,” he said. “There’s a booking sheet on the door. Sometimes a little one-on-one is what’s needed.” He winked at her.
She looked away, trying not to smile. Don’t encourage him, she scolded herself.
They walked back up the corridor and into the foyer. “Well, you’ve already been in the library,” he said, giving her one of his disapproving stares, “so we won’t bother with that.”
“Hmm. I meant to ask you. What’s a… psychic savant?”
He smiled. “It means a natural witch. Everyone’s born with some psychic talent. Many people start developing it in their teens. Some people never explore it. Occasionally someone comes along who almost doesn’t need to be taught—casting spells and channelling comes completely naturally.”