A Witch's Beauty

by A Witch's Beauty (lit)

  No, she was never going to be truly good.

  Jonah was sitting on the far wall, paging through a book, much as he'd been doing the day she came here as a dragon. He glanced up as the air around her settled, the fire dissipating. His gaze passed over the ruined brick, his hair still rippling over his shoulders from the blast. He seemed to be wearing it longer these days, making her wonder if Anna liked it that way. Did she like running her fingers through it as he lay over her, his powerful body pressing down on hers, the weight of his cock insistent between her legs?

  A tiny tremor ran through her. Oh, yes, she missed David for other, fairly base reasons. That was for certain, even though she knew his condition made him incapable of such things. But it was more than the physical, unfortunately. It was everything the physical passion he'd shared with her had implied, the needs of her heart and soul he met when he held her, took her.

  Raphael had come out to join Jonah, and she approached them now in human form. The white light of the Citadel pulsed around her, but another experiment she was testing was a different level of shielding that might allow her to expose herself to a place like this for longer periods. That in itself kept the wild dogs within her occupied, because there was of course a boatload of white light here.

  She glanced at Raphael. "How is he? More specifically."

  "He's not worsening, but he gets no better. The wounds will not close and begin to heal. His wings will not regenerate. Each time we try, the Dark One blood simply neutralizes the healing energy, or makes it worse, attacking a new area. I have stopped doing anything but seeing to his comfort." Raphael considered her. "You have said you are not skilled in healing. But just seeing you may help him. He has been asking about you. Constantly."

  "Well, why didn't you-"

  "He wouldn't let us," Jonah cut across her before she could unsheathe her claws.

  Raphael nodded. "He would not allow us to summon you until you were willing to come on your own."

  She'd needed time after that battle, she told herself. She'd known Raphael was most equipped to see to him. She'd never tried to heal severe injuries of the flesh or mind. And if he was dying, she was too much of a coward to watch it.

  The problem was that she was a coward, period. She still visited the Dark One world in her dreams, but her nightmares were about David. About his screams and her doing nothing. About the way he'd looked when they were done with him. How could she heal what she had caused?

  That had been her illogical reasoning. But the angel healers didn't have the skill to heal injuries related to Dark One blood. She'd known that, of course, when Raphael had only limited success in restoring her energy after the Canyon Battle. She'd hoped it wouldn't affect the healing of an angel. Who would have anticipated an angel with Dark One blood running through his veins?

  In point of fact, there was only one angel she'd ever known with an aptitude for healing an injury involving Dark One blood. Her brow furrowed, the wheels of her mind turning. Raphael's attention sharpened. "You've thought of something."

  "Maybe. I don't know. I have an idea, but I can't explain it. I just have to feel my way through it. Let me think." She shifted her attention to Jonah. "And so when you checked on me, under the pretense of asking about things in the Dark One world, what did you tell him?"

  "It was not a pretense. It is a matter of importance. But if you must know, I told him that you were as charming as ever. That you were out saving orphans and planting flowers and had no time to see him."

  At her stare, he let out a sigh. "I told him you were safe. That was his main concern, initially. He is a soldier, and you were his charge. I told him you were no longer in need of our physical protection. As to whether you are still a threat to us, that I could not address."

  "Did he ask that?"

  "No, I just did."

  She pursed her lips, even while noting an impatient shift from Raphael. He was a healer. If she had an idea, nebulous or not, he wanted her to be pursuing it. Which told her David was worse than even their grim words portrayed.

  "You know I'm still a threat," she said to Jonah. "But there isn't much to be done about it, is there?"

  "What I need to know is if you are an ally or an enemy."

  "I'm not your enemy. I don't know much about being an ally." She turned to Raphael. "Where is he?"

  Raphael gestured to her to follow him, giving Jonah a glance.

  "Mina."

  She stopped, turned as Jonah straightened from the wall, laying down the book. "Thank you for your help retrieving the Trumpet."

  "I caused every problem you had," she pointed out.

  "Perhaps. But you fixed them, and in doing so, things have changed. Perhaps for the better."

  "Or worse. And I didn't fix all of them. I don't know if I'm a threat," she said abruptly. "But know this. You can't stop me. You can't control me."

  She noticed then that Marcellus sat on the wall around the curve of the bailey, which was now in her line of sight. He must have sustained some serious injuries, for as he rose he showed some stiffness, as well as a fairly noticeable scar line that ran from the base of his throat across his chest. A close call. Some Dark One had almost succeeded in ripping his heart from his chest.

  With his face unreadable, it took a moment before she realized he'd risen from the wall as a sign of respect. To her.

  "There are checks and balances in all things in nature," Jonah's sharp tone cut through her shock, drew her attention back to him. "Yours might not be evident, but they will be in time, if we had to stop you."

  "But how many bodies would pile up before then?" She shook her head. "Whatever that 'check' is, find it soon. Just in case. I won't look for it myself. If I knew of it, I'd seek a way to counter it."

  "You checked yourself, several weeks ago."

  "Because of him. Because of his love." Mortified, she found she was having to blink back tears. "Find it, damn it."

  Jonah studied her. "I believe you are one of the most extraordinary beings I've ever met." He inclined his head, and she knew she could take it as his promise to her. "We'll find it."

  Turning on her heel, she followed Raphael deeper into the chambers of the Citadel.

  The area they'd given David was a corner room, with a plethora of the large open windows that were scattered throughout the Citadel to let in the strong sunlight. He was on his side on a bed, the cover pulled just over a bare hip, revealing the multiple burns and gashes. She also noted new ones where, as Raphael had mentioned, the Dark One blood she'd given David had countered their attempts to heal him. All of the wounds seeped blood and infection, pervading the room with a sickly smell. The remains of his wings, those jagged ends of bones, rested in a listless pile behind him.

  Because of the wounds, the bed was stained and damp. At her accusing glance, Raphael shook his head. "I could have suspended him in the air, and we do sometimes, though he prefers the bed. But he can't bear bandages. I cleanse the linens each time I enter the room, but we can't stop the running of the fluids. He will not die, but it is a horrible way to live."

  All this in a low voice, so it wouldn't carry to the patient. She nodded, swallowing. Moving forward, she circled the bed. As she did, she laid one hand on his bare foot where it extended out from the loose sheet at the end.

  His head shifted, and then she saw him turn his face down to the end of the bed toward her, as if he could see.

  He was so pale, gaunt. Somehow seeing how horrible he looked now with the wounds cleaned was worse than when he'd been lying on the ground, torn and bloodied. For this was it. There was no chance it was better than she'd feared. Goddess. She put a hand to her mouth. She'd done this to him. They'd done this to him.

  Somehow, she was back at the door, leaning against it, her fingers digging into the frame. Unnoticed, the Citadel trembled on its magical foundation, as the anger surged up on her. There were still some Dark Ones left in that world. She would go back through the portal, and she would turn it into a barren landscape,
devoid of life for the next million years, until some bare cellular form of life would dare to evolve, instead of a form of life that never should have been.

  And would she incinerate herself as well? This was her doing.

  "My Lady." Raphael's soft voice, and though it was an unexpected title, Mina's head came up, her red eyes meeting his. "He spoke to you," he added carefully.

  Mina turned back toward the bed. David had shifted, his hand seeking something on the table they'd put next to him. A cloth... a sash. As she watched, he fumbled, trying to put it over his empty eyes.

  "No." She was back by the bed in an instant, her hands settling on his wrists. The feel of the abraded but warm flesh made her throat thick with tears. "No. It will hurt."

  "It hurts you to look at me." His voice was rasping. The damage they'd done to his mouth and tongue, she knew.

  "Yes, it does. It should. Leave it."

  She shifted her grip to his hands, the one perfect, the one with no fingers, and she noted the irony that her perfect hand was her right, his the left, so they could interlace the fingers of those two hands when facing each other, while she simply curved her three fingers over the square, fingerless palm of the other.

  "Where have you been?" he asked. No recrimination, though she'd essentially been in her cave, uselessly brooding, while he'd been here, suffering like this. Of course, he hadn't been alone. The fact Jonah and Raphael were both present said they'd been keeping close watch on the young angel. The fresh flowers resting in a vase said Anna had been here. Everyone but the one for whom he'd sacrificed himself.

  No, I will never be good. And she felt no amusement at the thought this time.

  She sat down on the edge of the bed at his hip when he pulled her down beside him. His fingers, so strong and capable, as clever with a woman's body as he was with a weapon, were bony, with a sickly tremor.

  "We've talked about ending this," he said conversationally.

  "What?"

  He stroked her fingers. Gods, soothing her. "They can't fix it. And I'm no good to anyone like this. It might be what's best."

  "No."

  "So you'd miss me, then?" He attempted a smile with his damaged mouth, but then it died. "I can't live like this, Mina. I have to serve a purpose. I-"

  She'd been looking at his face, remembering the patient brown eyes, seeing his mouth curved in a true smile, or a resolute line. Not a mouth drawn taut and hard against pain, the grooves of stress so much like old age that no angel had. The ache in her throat was becoming excruciating, and she followed the need of it, leaned forward and put her mouth on his.

  Sickness made his taste fetid, but she didn't care. She put her hands against his nearly bare skull, resting as lightly as possible on the burns and bite marks there. As she kissed him, her arms slid around him, holding him as close to her as she could, while his hands slipped to her waist. He was weak, so she drifted down so she was lying next to him, her calf trapped between his ankles, her face tilted up to him.

  She put everything into the kiss she couldn't put into words, wishing for him, wanting him.

  "I can't." She pulled away abruptly, sitting up and drawing away. "Damn it, I want to, but I can't, all right?"

  "Can't what?" Frown lines marked his forehead. "Mina, what... I'm repulsive to you."

  "Oh, don't be an idiot," she snapped, and missed the easing of his features, the hint of an almost smile that registered with a startled Raphael. "I can't give you up. I know I should, know that's what's best. I don't know what love is. I can't love you back and you have all this love to give. All I can do is need you. I need you to make it worth it to keep the Dark Blood balanced in me, to teach me what a sense of humor is, because I think it would really help. I want your body, too." She glared at him. "And I'm glaring at you, by the way."

  "I can hear it in your voice," he said cautiously. "But I don't know how-"

  "I need you to heal my scars. My fingers. Right now."

  David's brows, what was left of them, rose. "You lost me." He worked himself upright, his color draining such that Raphael moved forward to help. Jonah was there, too, apparently having appeared during her outburst. "You said you didn't want that."

  "I didn't want a lot of things. I didn't want you disrupting my life with your hands and mouth and smile and making me feel like I could feel happiness and not be overwhelmed by darkness. But you did." She drew another deep breath, braced herself. "So now I need you to heal me, as we both know you can."

  "Make him drain his energy so you can be pretty again? Is it worth the risk-" Raphael started, anger suffusing his expression.

  "I don't want it," she snarled. "Do you know what beauty can do? How much power it can hold? Don't I have enough to handle as it is? Look at all of you, the way you affect anyone who sees you. Do I fucking look like I need more power to control?"

  "Sshh..." David had caught her hand as she jumped up, and he somehow managed to give her enough of a yank to topple her back down beside him. "Sssh. Easy."

  She stopped, her breath rasping in her throat. It was then she realized the misty tile floor had become crimson as her temper built, her panic. She let the power ease out of her fingers, let the warm, electrical furor of it seep from the room.

  "It's like I'm standing under this tidal wave all the time, trying to figure out which direction to make the water go so it doesn't drown me or anyone else." She shook her head. "It doesn't... I'm not saying you have to take on that responsibility. That's your choice, whether this works or not. I just... I can't bear seeing you this way."

  "Mina, slow down." His fingers pressed into hers. "What are you talking about?"

  "As you heal me, I think I can help heal you at the same time. I'm not sure, but it's worth the risk." She reached out, ran a quick, unsteady hand down the side of his jaw. "I'll do anything to make you what you were when I first saw you. Whole, beautiful. Perfect."

  "I'm afraid the 'whole' part only happened when you came along and let me love you."

  "I never let you. I fought. You insisted."

  David smiled then, let go of her hand to find her face, managing to cup her cheek in that tender way of his, not even seeming to notice when the residual crimson light from her roused emotions sparked down the scorched flesh of his forearm.

  They'd hung his daggers and weapons harness on the bed-post. Probably Jonah's doing, to make David feel as if he'd not lost everything he was. She drew one now, brought it to his palm and closed his fingers over the grip. A sob came from her before she could bite it back. "David, heal me."

  "He can't afford to lose any more blood. He's too weak as it is." Raphael stepped forward, but in the corner of her eye, Mina saw Jonah reach out, put a hand on the golden angel's arm.

  David held the dagger, but tilted his head, as if he were considering her with his piercing gaze. "Are you planning something that could cause you harm?"

  "No," she lied. "I'm just frightened of it. Of what will happen, of what it will mean." She stopped, stared for a long moment at the covers. Couldn't stop herself from leaning forward and running one knuckle over the curve of his bare hip, the upper part of his thigh that the sheet's shift now revealed. One small patch of untouched skin. Like the one patch on her face. Only they'd just overlooked it on him. He'd healed it on her.

  "I've never trusted anyone, David. I've never believed in anyone, couldn't even trust myself." She took a deep breath. "I can't do this without you. I can't control it without knowing there's someone worth controlling it for. So before you heal me, I need you to know that. That the reason I'm doing this is mostly because I need you. I need you to be whole and well, and there at my back. There's a chance over time I'll learn to control it on my own. So if you change your mind down the road, realize that you don't love me, you could leave." She steadied her voice. "I just don't want you to think I'm doing this because I'm self-sacrificing or generous, or any of that."

  His face had gotten sober. Reaching down now, he looked for her hand and found her arm,
caressed a small portion of it with a knuckle. "Mina, I love you. I felt it the first time I saw you, like when you watch your child be born and know from that moment on, everything is going to be different. I love you now. Tomorrow, yesterday. Forever. And it will not change."

  "Everything changes," she said desperately.

  "You're right. Some things grow stronger, richer, more powerful over time. This will be one of them. Trust me for this moment, remember? Believe me. And promise me you won't go away from me like this again, where I can't go to you." His hand drifted to her neck and shoulders. "You've been sitting in that damp cave of yours, getting muscle cramps and joint aches. You're tired." His fingers passed over her eyes, under them, along the lines of her cheeks. "You're not sleeping, baby."

  "David." The tears were coming back, and she sprang up and away. "I can't promise anything, you understand? I run away when I'm angry or hurt. I need solitude. But I need to know you'll be around, always. So it's completely one-sided. All I can say is if you're not there, I will give up. I'll just annihilate everything, because total destruction feels better than this loneliness I feel when you're not nearby. And what are you two looking at?" she snapped at Jonah and Raphael, who had been staring at her throughout her tirade.

  "Mina."

  David had managed to sit fully upright with his feet on the floor, the badly mangled wings doing their best to balance him. He was swaying. Despite Raphael and Jonah's speed, she was there first. She gripped his arms, for he'd dropped the dagger on the bed next to him. She held him until he steadied.

  "Mina," he repeated. "It's okay. I'm an angel. I take a lot of things on faith."

  "But what if I'm not worth your faith?"

  "Do you want to be?"

  She remembered his question of long ago. Do you want to belong to me?

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "Then let's get you healed and see what happens. I have faith in you, seawitch. Though I know you're lying. You're risking something of your own well-being on this." His hand captured hers, tightening a moment. "But you will tell me true. Are you risking anyone else's?"