A Witch's Beauty

by A Witch's Beauty (lit)

  "No." She let her fingers turn. "It didn't... It apparently wasn't the right time. Or perhaps the magic... it didn't take." She'd been surprised to feel a loss, knowing that.

  He seemed to weigh her words, the truth of them. Then he bent forward again, pressed his lips to her nose. "We'll try again sometime, if you want to. And next time, I'll ask first."

  "You better," she managed.

  "All right, then." He cleared his throat. "So we're going to do this. Because I know you love me. And I love you so much that my heart breaks when you're not near, when you hurt, when you won't let me help. Okay?"

  She stared at him, then inclined her head, a slow nod.

  The skin around his eyes crinkled. "It's rather pointless to nod around a blind man, isn't it?" He picked up the dagger when she guided his hand mutely back to it, then cocked his head. "Can one of you help hold me up while I do this? I don't want to break off in the middle."

  It was of course Jonah who came and put himself at David's back, bracing him with his hands on his shoulders. His magnificent wings were half spread, while David's broken and wasted ones brushed his bare chest. Then David lifted his arm, drew the dagger unsteadily across flesh already raw and inflamed. He didn't even flinch, though. Just let the blood start to well forth.

  When he bowed his head, Mina felt his concentration as he drew from scant reserves of energy to do what only he might be able to do, as he'd proved the first time he'd healed that small section of her face.

  Mina met Jonah's gaze over his shoulder, knowing the commander's thoughts easily, for they were written on his stern face. You better know what you're doing.

  Since she was going into fairly new territory, she was sure he wouldn't appreciate her answer to that. Anyhow, she had all she could do to control her terror. David was depleting his life force to heal her. That was going to be hard enough on him without her fighting him.

  Blood drained down his arm, glittering blue with traces of red and black. As he let it run to his palm, she lifted her cloak over her head and sat bare before him. When he reached out, he found the mangled skin where her breast would have been, the most central point from which the magic could flow.

  "Don't be afraid," he murmured, knowing her so well.

  She pushed aside the fear, for she had a task of her own, and she wasn't going to be a coward this time. She'd done enough of that in the past several weeks. As his hand settled, wet with fresh blood, she closed her own eyes. Laying her palm over an open wound near his abdomen, she felt how sticky and hot it was, infection. The putrid sense of Dark One malevolence, lingering on the edges of the blood vessels. As terrible as the wounds were, how much more awful had it been for him to lie here, Dark One blood roiling in a body that was designed by its Maker to be repelled by it?

  His power drifted into her. A weak flow at first, then he pushed himself, his body starting to shake. She sensed the wounds were oozing faster, perspiration building across his forehead. The evidence of a failing system, a body she loved for its strength and raw power. His heart could explode in his chest, accomplishing the same thing as a Dark One attack. Even knowing that, she forced herself to send the urgent words into his mind.

  Keep going, David. Push yourself as hard as you can.

  Raphael was likely getting alarmed, for David was sure to be turning the color of white light in truth. She kept her eyes closed, though, concentrating, gauging the fading, the rate at which he was getting weaker and weaker. The timing had to be perfect. She started to chant. It was a complicated healing charm, mixed with some Dark Magic that would likely char the pure walls of the Citadel. As she worked the spell up, she used her blood link to communicate with Jonah.

  You must hold him steady. No matter what. Tell Raphael he must keep David's hand on my chest. The flow of energy mustn't be interrupted.

  Raphael's wings brushed her as his hand pressed over David's wrist. Jonah shifted as his grip apparently tightened on David.

  Most beings would resist dying. She knew she didn't have to worry about that. David's focus on her, his dedication, was absolute. He didn't care about death. He cared about her. When she felt him push past the automatic survival instinct, keeping his mind only on her, his heart pumping so hard she could hear the arteries gasping, she knew it was time.

  Throughout his system, she visualized the Dark One blood, like so many tiny demonic creatures, despising their surroundings. But just as the angels instinctively fought Dark Ones, so these elements of Dark One blood were like terriers, unwilling to abandon their fight to destroy the angel blood, claim his body for their own. Unless they thought he was dying.

  Pressing her hand harder over that wound, she summoned the Darkness to her. Their queen, who would not be denied. She used her power, half command, half coaxing. Come to me. Look inside me, where there is a greater welcome for you. Here lies darkness. Your home.

  The blood waffled, undecided, for as much as like attracted like, destruction was its true purpose. Blocking out all else, sending a mental warning to the two angels, Mina changed from persuasion and took away the choice. She reached in with her mind, netted them and ripped them out of the arteries and vital organs, bringing them to her, clawing and screaming. His blood boiled in his veins, his heart rate increasing exponentially. That great organ strained, close to rupture.

  As he cried out, it took her back to his screams beneath the teeth and talons of the Dark Ones. Her own body convulsed, so violently that she didn't feel Raphael grip her shoulder to augment his hold on David's wrist. She was in the throes of power, his and hers, what they were doing to each other.

  She screamed as she forced the blood into herself, a rape of her circulatory system. The scream was part rage, part pain, part need, but as David had said, she had an indomitable will. She held on to that thought. She would not fail. She couldn't fail.

  The remaining Dark One blood was rushing into her now, her threat of annihilation speeding its travels. But she would not relinquish her hold as she sent a command to Jonah.

  Charge one of his daggers and drive it into his lower back. Now.

  Her imperious command was obeyed, no room for doubt, thank Goddess, for if Jonah had hesitated, she would have lost the connection or the courage. David cried out again and the Dark Ones' blood within her screamed as well. The noise alone was going to overwhelm her.

  Releasing their host, the last of them fled the blue fire rushing through his system, taking the portal she offered to escape sure destruction.

  As she opened her eyes, she saw the room they were in had gone dark, perhaps a reflection of the sky outside, the ominous rumbling around the crown of the Citadel. Distantly, she sensed a gathering of angels, for Jonah had likely been unable to spare attention to let them know what was happening.

  Then, before she had another coherent thought, fire was scalding her. Her face, her body on fire. It was as if the sea creatures were tearing at her flesh again, making her relive the terror of it, unable to move.

  But she wasn't there, wasn't in the Abyss. She was here, in the Citadel, and David still needed her. She fought through it.

  "Heal him," she rasped, fixing her burning eyes on Raphael, bent anxiously over David's body, slumped in Jonah's arms. "Blood. You. Heal him now, quickly. Or he's dead. Life force, will... slip away."

  "He is dead."

  "No. Not. Life spark there. Do it."

  Her voice thundered through the structure like the shock wave from an explosive blast. Then she convulsed again, falling with a thud to the floor, an animal snarl coming from her lips.

  "Do it!" She spat out once more before she began to seize, thrashing across the stone tile as if a Dark One had possessed her. Gods, her skin had to be on fire. Things were breaking down and building at once.

  Raphael forced himself to turn away and laid his hands on David, charging his palms with power. Probing deeply, he was amazed to find she was right. A single spark, so tiny he was almost afraid to reach for it, coax it back to life.

&nb
sp; Jonah, we will need many of us.

  Jonah nodded. Reaching out to the seven levels of the Citadel, he called on the other angels. Marcellus consolidated the energy of his battalion, as did the acting lieutenant of David's platoon. Ezekial, Bazrak, all of the captains. Even the Thrones in Zebul, and Lucifer, down in Hades. The call went out to all, a flood of energy returning that ignited the room with white light, covering them.

  Raphael, the witch. She can't-

  She is taking care of herself. She is shielded. I will channel this away from her as well. Do not fear for her.

  Satisfied, Jonah returned his concentration to the charge in his arms. As he helped steady the healer, Raphael took the white light and worked that energy into David. The wounds began to close, the hair to grow back along his skull, the fingers and other ruined and mangled parts to sculpt back into the body of a powerful and graceful young male angel. Jonah swallowed, moved by the act of re-Creation that, of all the healer angels, only Raphael could do.

  David's ruined wings ignited, burning away in a wave of heat and wind. The ash drifted across the bed, mingling with the blood and infection, all of which was abruptly seared away as if it had never been. White light surged through the healing centers of David's body then, jerking him. His head fell back lifelessly on Jonah's shoulders. The commander held him close, steady. Raphael kept his hands on him, his lips firming with determination. As the white light intensified, Jonah, who could look at the sun, had to shut his eyes.

  Come on, damn you. You can't go. I won't permit it. And she needs you. Don't give up.

  MINA caught only glimpses of what was happening on the bed. In the fight for her own life, she could no longer offer anything to David, could only hope she'd done enough.

  Her body was working fiercely to accommodate what David had been able to do for it before his energy ran out, as well as handling the new Dark One blood she'd just acquired. They warred for the same space, her Dark One blood leaping on the other and trying to destroy it. She wanted to retch, but she kept it down, helping her Dark One blood sear out of existence what she'd pulled from David.

  The pain took her deeper, until she was nothing but the pain, her mind shutting into that simple survival mode she knew well. Just one moment to the next. Or no passage of time at all. It simply was. Fire on every part of her skin, a fierce aching in her bones as intense as a break. It got so excruciating it crossed her mind to just give up, let oblivion take her, but she hadn't earned that. And if there was a chance she'd succeeded and could see David's face once more...

  Trust me for one moment. Just one more moment.

  A long time later, voices came through that red haze. "I don't think we should touch her. Just wait. Watch over her. Watch over them both."

  "I'll watch over her." A quiet voice, one that couldn't be Marcellus, for it had too much compassion, but it sounded like him.

  "Clean bed," she rasped. "Make sure he has clean bed. Hates being dirty. Don't leave him like that."

  Then later, maybe much later? Another voice. The voice she needed to hear to penetrate the fog of her own dull, mindless pain. "Give her to me."

  She was lifted, the sense of feathers brushing her, and then she was on a soft bed. Clean. Smelling of clouds and sunshine. David's arms around her. Lying on David's chest. His heartbeat strong and steady.

  It seemed the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she managed to tilt her head back the inch or two needed, crack her eyes enough to see his looking down at her. Brown, warm and steady.

  A sigh slipped through her lips. She slept.

  SUNSHINE. Her shields had held, amazingly, but too much time had passed, for they were thin. Thin enough that the presence of angels all about was enough to give her an oppressive, closed-in feel. But she opened her eyes and found she was in David's arms still, and that made it bearable for the time being. As she rose on one arm, she gazed down at him.

  He had some faint scarring on his body, like Marcellus, that would fade in time. But he had all his fingers back, his rich mane of brown hair to his shoulders, though there was an interesting tawny streak now that she brushed with her fingertips. Then she couldn't help touching his mouth, the bridge of his nose. His throat, tracing the breadth of his shoulders. Her throat thickened as she saw one scar that had not altered. The handprint burned into his chest remained.

  A polite cough, and she looked over to see Jonah on the window ledge. Watching over them again. David slept on, even though his arms stayed curled low on her hips, reluctant to release her even in sleep.

  As she turned to look at him, Jonah straightened, staring at her. Raphael and Marcellus had entered as if he'd summoned them, now that she was awake. They stopped as well, just as they stepped over the threshold.

  "Holy Goddess," Marcellus muttered.

  She swallowed, trying not to panic, and turned her focus back to David. His wounds were gone, the health returned to his face, his body clean, yes. But he was wingless. Since he was half turned toward her, probably an old habit of not sleeping on his back, she peered over his shoulder to see a broad, unmarked expanse of skin and muscle. She ran her palm over it.

  "We're not sure what happened." Raphael cleared his throat. When she glanced back at him, he kept his gaze fixed on David. "He appears to have all other elements of being an angel. Speed, quickness, strength. Immortality."

  "You have a theory," she said. "You just don't want to tell me."

  "It's possible the wings were too corrupted by the blood, and in the healing, the best thing to do was to just get rid of them."

  Mina looked toward Jonah, her expression requesting the full truth. "There is a great deal of magical energy in the wings," the commander said quietly. "It's possible he drew on them at the last for you, drew too hard."

  That would be just like him, she knew. She closed her eyes. "Please stop staring at me," she said to the walls. It was time for her to leave. Her shields were expiring. David was healed. He would come to her if he wished. If he didn't, well, he didn't.

  "Thinking of taking off on me again, little witch?"

  David's voice, quiet but groggy.

  Relief swept her, so strong it almost drained her of strength. When she would have toppled into him, he caught her arms and stared at her face. She waited, wishing to be anywhere else as his gaze coursed down, slowly, then back up. He lifted her hand, the one that had three fingers. Now she had almost five. The smallest finger was still missing the top half of the digit.

  "I'm sorry," he said with a tired smile. "I ran out about there." At her expression, he sobered and cupped her face, his thumb passing over where her cheek had been pitted but was now as silken as the other.

  "Don't worry. I still see the scars," he whispered.

  She closed her eyes and he drew her in to him, held her against his heart as her body began to shake. The whole Citadel began to shake in fact, for things were welling up in her, so hard and fast, she couldn't control them. But as he tightened his arms around her, murmured to her, he contained it, held her soul and heart against him such that at last she did feel as if she'd managed to crawl inside him. The first sobs burst out of her, and she was only vaguely aware of the startled angels withdrawing respectfully.

  It was everything, all of it, everything she'd had to do and be to get to this point. And somehow he still loved her. She couldn't comprehend it, and it was going to tear her into pieces. But it was okay. He was holding her. He was always holding her.

  "I was so frightened," she said into his chest at last. "I was so afraid I wasn't going to be strong enough. I hear your screams when I close my eyes. I can't bear to sleep."

  David closed his eyes. That terrible trek from the Dark One tower to the mountain was nothing he was likely to ever forget, either. He laid his head on top of hers. "I'm here now. And it's over. You did it. You did what we needed you to do, what was right. Mina, when it comes to inner strength, I've never met anyone stronger. And I'm sure I never will."

  "I was lucky."

&nb
sp; "Someone once told me that luck is fickle, and she has no use for it."

  "I'm afraid of not having the scars."

  "You don't need them. You have me." Touching her mouth, he drew her tear-streaked gaze up to his face. "I told you, angels mate for life. You won't ever have to be lonely again. Only alone when you desire it, though I hope you don't desire it too often. I tend to need you far more than you need me."

  She didn't think that was true, but of course she couldn't tell him that. But she did hold him more tightly, laying her head back under his jaw.

  David smiled, feeling it, then looked toward Jonah at the doorway. Felt the angels gathered in the Citadel, the strength of their connection to him. The emotion of it, of having them as well as the woman in his arms, filled him. The loss of his wings was painful, the idea that he would no longer be able to fight with the Legion, but that was as it should be, he thought.

  They may come back. This from Raphael.

  David lifted a shoulder. It doesn't matter. She bears a great burden. It's my task to help her with it. He shifted his thoughts toward Jonah. You've told me before it's not about what we want; it's about our destiny. Well, I got both. Mina is what I want and my destiny, for better or worse.

  Jonah inclined his head, his expression saying he understood completely.

  THE Prime Legion Commander drew Raphael and Marcellus outside the chamber with him. Raphael paused with Jonah as the two males looked back in, to see David had lifted himself into a sitting position so he could hold her in his lap, murmur and rock her as she cried.

  "Have you ever..."

  "It was like looking on the face of the Lady." Jonah wondered at it. "I felt her beauty, the power behind it, slam me all the way down to my toes."

  "A mask for Darkness. A dangerous one." Raphael shook his head. "Now I understand what she was saying. I thought it was just gibberish, but everything she said... She knows how dangerous she is."

  Jonah nodded. "That's why she didn't want him to heal it. But she was willing to risk her soul and our universe to heal him. She's not our enemy, Raphael. I'd bet my soul on it. The key to her is David, and it explains a great deal to me about why the Lady sent us a man who was barely more than a boy to be an angel."