Ill give you that, she said. I suppose hunters have to be all secretive to get the job done. Like Batman.
Batman? I dont have a cape.
Too bad. I bet you could work the cowl-and-cape look with that handsome square jaw. The stubble is sexy, you know.
A flutter of those lashes and he wanted to grab the woman and kiss her soundly. Wrap her in his arms and crush her body against his. And taste her, lick her everywhere, until he memorized her flavor.
So I creep you out, eh? she asked suddenly.
Huh?
Zoë took the spoon from him, dipped it in the weird gray pudding stuff, and lifted it to his mouth. Kaz absently opened his mouth and let her feed him. A blueberry burst on his tongue.
Last night when I was invoking the healing spell you said witches creep you out. She spooned him another bite. And I assume, since I am a witch, that included me.
No, you could never I didnt mean He pushed away another spoonful. Stuff was...weird. And he was sitting here, being fed by a witch. Well, hell. Youre all kinds of surprises this morning, arent you?
He wasnt going to get into this argument with her. Witches were not his favorite creatures. Something about them did creep him out, but what was it? He couldnt recall the exact reason for his heebie-jeebies.
Kaz grabbed the spoon from Zoë, dropped it in the bowl and shoved it toward her.
You need to eat. Build up your strength.
I need to leave.
Not for another few hours. I want to keep you here until I know the spell has worked.
Im fine. He pushed up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. His brain wobbled inside his skull, and briefly, he saw two witches sitting before him. Why do I feel so woozy?
The spell is rushing through your system, doing its thing. Itll require all bits and pieces of you to work cohesively to heal the damaged parts. So you wont feel right until its completed. Lie back. She shoved the bowl into his hands. And finish your pudding.
She stood. Kazs eyes veered directly to those blue ruffles above her knees. A dash of his tongueright therewould taste the curve behind her knee, and he knew the flavor would satisfy him like no bowl of goopy gray stuff ever could.
When you feel less dizzy, Ive set out some towels in the bathroom. Im washing your shirt right now. It was spattered with bloodprobably your own. I could clean your pants...?
Theyre fine, he said quickly of his leather pants.
You sure? I wont look.
The situation was getting intimate. Fast. And what was wrong with that?
You dont do the intimate with someone you hardly know. You screw them and leave. You know this woman. Its too late for a quickie, never see you again, sweetie.
Shed already nestled her ribbons and raspberry lips into a place in his brain. Good luck getting her out, buddy.
She turned and strode out of the living room.
You dont creep me out, Zoë. He whispered the words as his brain fogged and his heavy eyelids fell shut. His grip softened about the pottery bowl.
Pretty... was the last word he could manage before surrendering to his bodys need to shut down while the spell worked to heal his wounds.
* * *
Zoë smiled to herself as she moved the clothes from the washer into the dryer. Pretty, eh? The man hadnt been all there in the head when hed muttered that. As he hadnt been in full grasp of his senses when hed muttered about creepy witches.
She hoped.
The blood had come out of his black shirt thanks to her homemade herbal detergent with an extra touch of earth magic. She tossed it into the dryer and sprinkled in some cloves to imbue a pleasing scent into the fabric, though she was a little sad shed washed away the leather-and-licorice scent from his shirt. It still lingered on his skin, though. Goddess, but the man smelled like a treat.
But she had much better things to do than household chores and tending the sick, no matter how delicious the patient smelled. A whole lot of faery ichor needed processing and her time was valuable. But she couldnt work while the hunter was in her house because that might tempt him to climb the stairs to see what she was doing. Her work wasnt a secret. She just liked to keep her spell room sacred and never allowed others inside.
Protect the magic, she muttered. Always and ever.
Her parents had taught her that. One slip on her fathers part had branded him warlock. It was a hard life to live in the shadows with few friends, but there were days Zoë suspected her father preferred such a life. Hed always been quiet, almost to the point of reclusive.
As she wandered into the kitchen, curiosity over Kazs encounter with the vampires last night crept up on her. If hed no intention of killing them, and had only wanted to talk with them, she wanted to know why. Because the pink-haired vampiress was involved in her life in an important way.
Had Kazs curiosity anything to do with something Pink had done?
Couldnt be related to me, she muttered, while setting the breakfast dishes in the sink. I hope not. She and Pink had no relationship whatsoever; only business connected them. Im doing nothing wrong, she said with a lift of her chin. And hunters dont involve themselves in the kind of stuff Im working on, anyway. Do they?
There would be no need to. Why, the hunter should appreciate her efforts.
She heard the shower running. The image of Kaz in the buff popped into her thoughts. Now, that would be a beautiful sight to take in. The way his eyes had danced up her legs and to her breasts after hed first woken had made her feel as if he were drawing his fingers along her skin. Slowly, lingering, feeling out the curves on her body. And shed felt every long gaze seep through her pores.
She smiled at the delicious notion that he had been assessing her charms. In that moment of assessment, she had wanted to kiss him, but hed been out of sorts. Probably she misunderstood his interest in her as woozy discombobulation produced by the spell surging through his system.
She was rushing toward happily ever after and wasnt even sure the man was on the same page. Well, of course he wasnt. Theyd only just met. But his kisses had definitely turned a few of her pages.
She placed the clean plates on the drying rack. She couldnt condone anyone causing harm to another living being. Not unless it was justified. If a vampire had harmed a human, or even killed them, then yes, she had no problem with a hunter ending their life. But not if the vamp was merely drinking from humans to surviveas they must do, for cold blood from blood bags did not sustain life. If they did only that, never taking too much, and leaving the victim enthralled in a sensual swoon, then hell no, she would never stand for a hunter thinking he had the right to end that vampires life.
Kaz was not the sort to irrationally take anothers life. She sensed that. He wore honor like a flag, though he didnt wave it blatantly about as if he needed the accolades for his bravery. Hed only wanted to talk to the vampires last night. And she had plainly seen he had done his best not to harm them. To his detriment.
I feel one hundred percent better.
Kaz strolled into the kitchen, dark leather pants low on his hips and droplets of water still glistening on his broad, wide shoulders. His short, wet hair was tousled this way and that, and where there had been bruises last night on his chest, ribs, jaw and temple, now there were none, save the fading mark over his kidney.
She studied the raised scar on his shoulder. It looked like a brand, some sort of symbol. Where had she seen it before? Recently. Hed gotten it when he was a teenager? The things kids did when they were drunk.
How does your side feel? she asked. That was an awful injury.
Its still tender, but Im good to go. You have my shirt?
Another half an hour for the dryer cycle to finish. Lets sit. She strolled into the living room and sat, patting the couch beside her. If its still tender, I want you to relax until my magic has completed its work.
It was a healing spell, eh? he asked. You witches are into that kind of stuff? Healing?
She noticed his gaze strayed to her cheek, and the scar, and could read his unspoken thoughts. Witches are enlightened beings. Were all about resonance, harmonics and frequency. As is the body both mortals and immortals inhabit.
Zoë again patted the couch.
With a sigh, he sat next to her, stretching his arms across the back. Zoë wanted to snuggle against him and draw in his darkly sweet scent, but, sensing she may not have judged him correctly for his comment about creepy witches, she sat forward, elbows on her knees, and twisted her head to the side to eye him.
The paranormal breeds tend to heal instantly, she said, or very close to that. Humans, on the other hand, take a lot longer. Without my magic you would have been swollen and groaning this morning.
Whatever you did, I appreciate it. Youre not at all creepy.
She smiled and that summoned a smile on his lips, which were oh so thick, and his teeth gleamed like some kind of movie star.
Kissable was the word at the tip of her tongue, but Zoë feigned disinterest.
You must have encountered a creepy witch at some time? she asked.
When I got this. He tilted his head to reveal a curved tattoo behind his ear half covered by his hair.
Zoë inspected what looked like black tribal markings about an inch long and as wide as her finger. Is that a spell tattoo?
He nodded. Keeps vamps from biting me. Not sure how it works, only that it does. Comes in handy in my line of work.
I imagine so. The only witch who does spell tattoos is
Sayne, he offered. And if you dont agree that dude is creepy, well then...
Sayne, an ink witch who had no known home and traveled the world, inked spell tattoos. He was known to be quiet and respectful and very wise. But as for creepy? Yes, she had to concede he was, for the witchs entire body was covered in tattoos. His face looked like a skull with black ink hollowing his eye sockets, and a partial brain exposed as if the top of his skull had been sawn off. The one time shed met him, shed been distracted by the inked image of a corpse worm crawling across that exposed brain.
He is creepy, but kind, Zoë said.
Apparently, Im only one of two humans the witch has ever agreed to do a tat for.
You must have charmed him.
Either that or the thick stack of cash I whipped out had something to do with it.
Im glad you have the tattoo. Had one of them bitten you last night I might have had to rush out to save you. I wanted to fling some magic at them, but it tends to be less than reliable when Im under stress.
That would not have been smart. I held my own. Mostly. Im a little embarrassed you witnessed what is a rarity for me.
A rarity?
Getting my ass kicked.
Your ass is fine. At least it looked well and fine in those snug jeans he wore. Its your kidney that took the licking. If I hadnt been there you might have bled out in the alley.
The man suddenly sat upright, puffing up his chest. I wouldnt go so far as to say bled out. I might have lain there in pain awhile, but eventually I would have pulled myself up and staggered home.
But you prefer that I decided to toss in a little magical intervention?
Cant deny your touch made me feel better. His fingers stroked her leg and landed on the ruffle above her knee. Pretty.
Hed said the same about her earlier. She threaded her fingers through his and he turned his up to clasp within hers. Zoë felt a grin start deep in her soul. Holding hands was so simple a connection. Yet it quickened her heartbeat and warmed her skin.
Uh, I should... She gripped his hand tighter when she sensed he wanted to tug away. ...get going soon.
Why was he so insistent upon leaving? Wait for your shirt to finish drying. Just a few more minutes.
Right. He slapped a hand to his bare chest as if hed forgotten he was half-naked.
Zoë had not.
She leaned across him to check his side. The bruising was almost gone. Take that, witches who darent dip into molecular magic. Their healing touch would take much longer.
Looks better, she said.
Their faces were close. She could feel his breath mingle with hers. And the only thing that could happen, did. They connected in a rush of need and desire. Spreading her hand across his chest, Zoë felt the steady pulse of his heartbeat as she deepened the kiss, wanting to take all of him into her being as if he were a new kind of magic she needed to study.
He pulled her closer, slipping a hand around the back of her head and into her hair. The possessive move sent a giddy thrill through Zoës system. She liked the way he took control, coaxing, as if the only place she belonged was against him.
Her body moved of its own volition, one leg sliding across his lap, until she straddled him. Nibbling his thick lower lip, she smiled against his mouth and his return smile made her giggle.
But he suddenly bracketed her face and pulled from the kiss, his eyes searching hers. This changes things, he said.
What? This? You mean us this? Are we an us?
You. Being a witch. And me, being what I am.
No, it doesnt. Why do things have to change? Theyve only just begun. She kissed him again. He did not pull away. He wanted this connection as much as she did. She wouldnt allow him to deny it. Im no danger to you.
No, youre not, but whenever I think about youand I think of you a lotI thought you were human, like me.
She wrinkled her nose. Is being human so important to you?
Maybe. I dont know. He leaned in for another kiss, but Zoë moved back, unsure now. Its not important. Hell, yes, it is. Its just Ive never done this with anyone who was not human. Kissing, and...making out.
Trying not to be offended only made her all the more offended. Zoë began to slide off his lap when Kaz gripped her by the shoulders and, hands gliding down her back, pulled her to him forcefully, and landed a kiss on her mouth that she could not escape.
And did not want to escape.
While she did not care for any man who would rule out another breed as a potential romantic partner, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. If hed not ever had a partner out of his breed, then his leeriness was justified. She wasnt different from the average human female, save that she could cast magic, press her body and mind beyond average mortal limitations and could have immortality if she chose it. She hadnt made up her mind regarding that life-prolonging measure yet.
I said that wrong, he offered, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as his eyes flitted back and forth between hers. For a moment, his thumb stroked the scar and Zoë winced. Was it the scar? Did that turn him off? Ive been saying all the wrong things, and yet, you still want to kiss me?