To Seduce a Witch's Heart

by Nadine Mutas

  While she gaped at him, he simply walked on, farther away from the screams of pain that just wouldn’t stop. Merle had to force herself to keep up with him, to put one foot in front of the other instead of standing still, breaking down.

  Back at the car, she got in and closed the door, shutting off the man’s piercing cries. Her breath stuck in her chest, her skin clammy, she stared out the front window. “You enjoyed this, didn’t you?”

  Rhun turned in the driver’s seat to face her. “Yes.”

  He leaned closer, his dark energy caressing her skin like velvet. His gaze, so perceptive, focused on the trembling of her lips, flicked to her chest to note her shallow breathing, then rose to study her neck, regarding the frantic rhythm of her pulse underneath her skin.

  “This,” he murmured, taking her wrist and holding it up in front of her to reveal how hard her hand shook, “is why I wanted you to wait here in the car.”

  He leaned closer still, put his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him, until his forehead almost touched hers. His power prickled on her skin, raised the hairs on her arms, melted something that had iced over inside her.

  “I am what I am, little witch of mine,” he said, stroking her neck with the same hand that had all but shattered a human body mere minutes ago. “But I do not want you to be terrified of me. What I did to that man, I would never do to you.”

  Her breath mingled with his, intimate heat, shared in the space between. “But you would take pain from me,” she whispered.

  His gaze held hers as a sensual smile snuck onto his lips, one that ignited a slow burn deep inside her core. “Ah, yes.” Gently, oh so gently, he tightened his hold on her neck. “I’d love to do that. And I am fairly sure that you would enjoy that as much as me. You see, there are different kinds of pain—pain for punishment, as you’ve just seen…” His lips brushed along the line of her jaw, his breath caressing her skin. “…but there is also pain for pleasure, Merle mine.”

  He nipped at her earlobe, and the sharp sting of his bite shot straight down to the juncture between her legs. Merle gasped. The thrill of excitement that followed the short pain sent pleasant shudders all through her body. Rhun released her, though not without intimately stroking along her neck as he withdrew his hand.

  “Multiply that times ten,” he said, starting the car, “and you know what it’ll feel like if you ever let me take pain mixed with pleasure from you.”

  Gods have mercy—he’d turned her bones to liquid fire.

  “Hmm.” He slanted a quick look at her while driving away from the station. “That idea appeals to you, doesn’t it?”

  For the sake of her own soul, she wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t even manage that simple lie. “Don’t you have a demon to find?” she asked instead. Deflecting questions with questions seemed to be her best choice of defense here.

  And he really needed to find that demon soon, not only for Maeve’s sake, but for her own as well. Because, dammit, Merle was not nearly as wary of Rhun as she’d been in the beginning, and still should be. Hell, she should be terrified of him now that she knew how he affected her. But come to think of it, she was more afraid of that part of herself that was drawn to him like a moth to the flame, afraid of how much she wanted to let him do all sorts of things to her.

  “You’re right,” he said, snapping her out of her dangerous musings.

  “Well,” she drawled and gestured, “go get started then.”

  “As soon as I find a quiet corner, little witch.”

  The quiet corner turned out to be Rocky Butte, the park on top of an extinct volcanic cinder cone rising up out of the sprawl of East Portland.

  “Seriously?” Merle got out of the car and followed Rhun up the incline from the street to the stone stairs leading up to the castle-like wall hugging the top. “Don’t tell me you’ve got better reception up here.”

  “Believe it or not, I am better at tracking energy signatures from high places.” His grin was fleeting in the night, a flash of white in the dark. “The fact that this is my favorite place in the city has of course absolutely nothing to do with it.” He took the remaining steps two at a time, and Merle tried hard not to notice how stunning his behind looked in motion. Nope, she didn’t notice at all.

  At the top, Rhun hopped onto and straddled the low balustrade. The dozen or so lanterns along the wall rimming the platform glowed with orange light, lending the place an eerie feel. Suppressing a shudder, she crossed her arms, looking back at Rhun. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the stone lamppost behind him, and turned inward. His power flickered, curled inside, dimming as if in deep concentration. Minutes passed. Every now and then his aura quivered.

  The wind was stronger this high up, whipping at Merle’s hair, attacking without mercy, until she shivered at the thousand little bites of cold that slipped all the way through her clothes to her skin. She rubbed her hands together for some warmth and walked to the other side of the platform, gazing out onto the sleeping city. A sea of twinkling lights spread before her, a web of sparks in the darkness. Any other night, she’d have sighed at the view, but now it only tightened her heart, pressed it together until it cracked. Somewhere out there, Maeve suffered through an ordeal Merle couldn’t, wouldn’t imagine. Not if she still needed to function.

  Her fingernails dug into her palms, hard enough to draw blood.

  I’ll find you, Maeve. I swear to the gods, I’ll find you and bring you back.

  “Merle.”

  Rhun’s voice made her flinch, and she whirled around to face him. “Got him?”

  He jumped down from the balustrade and shook his head, his brows furrowed. “I still can’t find him.”

  “Why?” she bit out through gritted teeth. “Because he’s Houdini?”

  “Because he’s being blocked.”

  That stunned her speechless for a few seconds. “What do you mean? How can he block himself?”

  “It’s not him doing it. The power that blanks out his psychic energy is not demon.”

  A feeling so nauseatingly cold crept up inside Merle she clenched her fists even tighter to keep from trembling. “Then what is it? Fae? Nymph?” Her voice sounded so, so desperate. She was grabbing for straws, trying, hoping for anything but…

  Rhun took a heavy breath. “It’s witch magic, Merle.”

  “No,” she ground out before the blow of the heinous accusation knocked the breath out of her.

  It couldn’t be. Witches didn’t hurt one another. It was a law carved in stone, the foundation of their community. No matter any individual differences or dislikes, harming another witch was sacrilegious, the highest form of treason imaginable. Never had there been a case of— No. It just—it couldn’t be true. If it was… The ground beneath her feet opened up. She staggered, gasping for air, groped for a hold, found a lamppost to steady herself.

  “You must be wrong.” Her voice was but a breath away from fading.

  “The pattern of witch magic is distinct,” he said, his gaze intent on her. “I’ve felt it, even though whoever cast the blocking spell tried her best to mask it.”

  Her fingers clenched on the stone until her knuckles ached. “It can’t be true.” Underneath her skin, close, so close, her power coiled, burning with the force of her outrage. “No witch would do that to another, it’s anathema to us—”

  “I’m not making this up, Merle. Not even I would be that cruel.” His eyes flashed as he glared at her, his jaw set in a tight line. “Whether you want to hear it or not, it’s a witch backing that demon, for whatever reason.”

  “You’re lying!” The stone underneath her fingers sizzled, and a wave of fire rolled out from her palm. She didn’t even feel the burn. “You’re lying to fuck with my mind! You just don’t want to find him, so you’re trying to turn me against my own! It can’t be true, it can’t be a witch, that’s impossible!”

  His aura pulsed darkly as he stared at her, his breathing as fast as hers. A muscle in his jaw ticked. Th
e air around him shimmered with heat. Then, he held up his hands as if in defeat, toned down his energy. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right,” he said, his every word dripping with sarcasm. “I forgot witches are inherently good and biologically incapable of committing crimes, just as all demons are innately evil, bad to the bone, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Forgive me, little witch, for a moment there I slipped and saw the world in shades of gray. Won’t happen again, I’m going back to black and white now.”

  She couldn’t even take offense at his biting tone, her head swirling with the implication of his allegation. While she rejected the very thought of another witch being capable of such malice, a small part of her knew it, felt it—and broke.

  She stood there, clutching the lamppost like a lifesaver, while the world around her slowly, inexorably, slipped off its hinges. “It can’t be,” she whispered over and over, as if the mere repetition of it could make it true. “It can’t be…”

  “Think about it.” Rhun’s voice, breaking through the darkness that crushed her. His tone had gentled, almost as though he could feel her turmoil. “You said the wards you put up around Maeve’s apartment failed one day, for no apparent reason. I’ve seen how strong your magic is—your wards would never have vanished just like that. They were broken down.” He was right in front of her now, only inches away, and his striking power steadied her as much as it made her shiver. “Tell me,” he said, his voice so very, very gentle, “how many otherworld creatures are able to dismantle witch wards?”

  She took a shuddering breath. “None. Only another witch can do that.”

  Her hand slipped off the stone. Her knees gave in.

  Rhun caught her as the world went black.

  Chapter 11

  Darkness curled around Merle.

  This, however, was different from the cold black swallowing her whole amid her crumbling world. Instead of the icy, numbing nausea that had crawled into her every cell, the darkness enveloping her now was rich, velvety, warm. Cocooning her, humming around her, it pulsed in sync with the beat of her heart.

  A part of her recognized the lethal edge in this dark energy, reminded her of the destruction this power had wrought just shortly before. She knew the danger whispering underneath it. And yet, as the darkness stroked along her senses, mingled with her own magic, nurtured it, something within Merle unfurled in the complete absence of fear.

  Taking a deep breath, she inhaled Rhun’s distinctive male scent, and opened her eyes—to darkness, again. She still couldn’t see a thing. A slight shifting of her position told her why. Rhun had curled her up in his lap, her head pressed facedown into his chest, and he’d wrapped both his arms so tightly, completely around her that he blacked out her vision. She tried to push herself up and found the Wall of Rhun immobile, keeping her in place.

  “You can let me go now.” Her words came out muffled and more directed toward his pectoral muscles, since he still held her plastered facedown on his chest.

  Rhun’s arms tightened around her and he made a sound of languorous contentment.

  She cleared her throat. “Rhun.”

  “Witch volcano.” A lazy murmur rumbling through his chest.

  “You don’t need to hold on to me.”

  “Hmm.” His hand stroked over her hair. “Yes, I do.”

  Another attempt at freeing herself before that warmth inside her fully bloomed into something else, something irrevocable and disarming. “Let me up.”

  “No.” His voice lost its lazy note. “Now you listen to me. You cannot faint like that in front of me and expect me to be okay with it. You scared the living shit out of me, little witch, and you will let me hold you now until I feel better.”

  Her heart overflowed with fuzzy warmth scaring the living shit out of her. Damn that treacherous, useless organ!

  “Of course,” he added, his voice now a murmur of sensual intimacies, “there are faster ways you could make me feel better… Umph!”

  Turned out being curled in his lap brought her in the perfect position to knee him in the ribs.

  “All right, all right, I’ll settle for snuggling,” he muttered under his breath. “No need to witch-handle me.”

  Right then, she was really glad he couldn’t see her grin.

  Since he gently compelled her to stay in his arms, she decided to enjoy the feeling. And, oh, it was damn straight enjoyable. It had been a long time since she’d been held by someone as if she were a fragile treasure, to be protected and cherished.

  Of course, Rhun wasn’t holding her with that intent. He was a demon, after all, and the thought of him caring for anyone seemed as plausible as a lion snuggling with an antelope. But she felt cherished and cared for, and it was real enough for that moment. Real enough to protect her mind from the near-insanity that had clawed at her shortly before, when she’d had to realize the worst treachery imaginable had been committed by someone she likely had known and trusted her entire life.

  Rhun held her like this for a long while, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against her cheek, anchoring her. When he let her go, she mourned the loss of his body heat, even though all through her limbs a new kind of warmth had spread, and it had everything to do with the demon in front of her.

  “All right.” She got to her feet and straightened her clothes and hair. “All right.” No matter how much she’d like to keep ignoring the abounding problems, she had to face them now.

  It was like a textbook case of Murphy’s Law. She huffed and shook her head. Just how much more could possibly go wrong? Too much, she thought immediately, and decided not to ponder on any details, lest she give the Powers That Be some sadistic suggestions on how to fuck up her life even more.

  Rhun got up, too, and dusted himself off. He’d apparently sat down to hold her on the bench of the round stone monument right next to the stairs. For a split second, Merle’s unruly mind told her to go help clean him off, to get her hands on him again.

  She slapped herself.

  Not mentally this time, but physically, with the intended sharp pain snapping her back to reason.

  At the swatting sound, Rhun jerked his head up and stared at her, frowning. “Did you just slap yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked flabbergasted. “Why?”

  “Needed the pain.”

  Slowly, he arched one eyebrow. “You know, if you needed pain…”

  “Not like that!”

  “Just saying.”

  Shooting him a glare, she then took a heavy breath and returned to untangling the mess they were in. While sorting her thoughts and shoving the feeling of devastating betrayal deep into the darkest recess of her heart, she paced, one hand rubbing her forehead. “What am I going to do?”

  “Break the blocking spell?”

  She glanced at Rhun, who leaned against the low balustrade, his arms crossed in front of his chest. The orange glow of the lamps illuminated his face, made his light green eyes glint in the night, reminiscent of a feline predator’s gaze.

  “No shit,” she gave back, suppressing a shiver. “And just how do you suppose I’ll do that?”

  “This is witch magic—that’s your domain.” He shrugged one shoulder, the casual movement a stark contrast to the dark vibe of his aura. “But a smart witch once told me for every spell you cast…”

  “…there is a loophole to undo it, hidden from your knowledge,” she finished, reciting her grandmother’s favorite saying. Merle had always taken it as a warning, but now, it could just be her saving grace.

  Rhun nodded, his lips curving up in a slow smile. Her heart did an annoying flip at the sight.

  “Right.” She blew out a breath and put a few more steps between her and that sneaky demon. “I’ll have to skim through my grimoire, maybe I’ll find something in there. And I’ll get Lily on it, too.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?” She stopped short in the process of pulling out her phone.

  Uncrossing his arms, he walked toward her. “Don’
t call Lily. Don’t tell her what you know.”

  “Why not? We can use her help.”

  “I’ve told you this before and I’ll tell you again, since you obviously didn’t get the point.” He snatched the phone from her hand.

  She glared at him, not sure what irritated her more—his alpha male antics of taking her phone away, or the casual ease with which he’d pried it from her fingers before she could act on it.

  “Lily is the niece of one of the Elders, the bunch of witches who are out to get you—us—” He pointed between them both, and she gritted her teeth in anger because he did so using her phone. “—and since Lily apparently leaked critical information to them once already, she’s a weak link and a liability if you continue to confide in her. The less the Elders know about what you are up to, the better.” He made a pause. A muscle ticked in his temple. “Especially since it’s most likely an Elder witch who cast the blocking spell.”

  Merle swallowed. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. “Why do you think that?” she whispered, even though a part of her already knew the answer.

  Rhun cupped her face with his free hand, his skin a hot brand, his eyes locked onto hers. “It takes an extraordinary amount of power to dismantle witch wards, doesn’t it? Same goes for casting an intricate blocking spell and keeping it up for so long. That would take the kind of power only an Elder witch wields. Am I right?”

  She could barely nod to acknowledge a truth which had been gnawing at the edges of her consciousness since she’d realized a witch helped that demon. She’d desperately ignored it, hadn’t even allowed herself to form it into a coherent thought, because doing so would make it real. The kind of real that could shatter the last remnants of innocent trust in the very people she’d grown up with, the ones who had vowed to save and protect their own.

  “Hey.” Rhun hunched down to level his eyes with hers, studying her expression. “You’re not going to drop again, are you?”

  She shot him her best Angry Glare.

  “Good.” His thumb stroked over her cheek. “I’ll take that as a no.”