A Demon's Witch

by Tena Stetler

  “My world consists of demons and creatures of the dark that for the most part follow the rules and coexist amicably with mortals in this one. Unfortunately, there are times when they go rogue and cause harm to mortals or risk exposure of our world to them. This is not tolerated and is dealt with harshly, by mortal standards.” He lifted his glass and swirled the burgundy liquid watching it wink in the fire light. Taking another sip, he considered his next statement carefully.

  “So you are saying that I live in the mortal world and by gaining knowledge of your world, I endanger my existence? It would seem they are one and the same.” She twisted a strand of her hair around her index finger waiting for his explanation.

  “Not exactly, but by pursuing a relationship with me, you are putting us both at risk of experiencing your brother’s rage. And believe me, he is not one to be taken lightly. But we can address that situation when it arises. Others will try to use our relationship to undermine my position and put Tristian and I at odds against each other which is unacceptable. I depend on him to help keep magic kind in order and the mortals oblivious to our existence.”

  She took a deep breath and blurted out. “What exactly does Tristian do for you?” There it was hanging between them, the silence deafening.

  This was the question he dreaded most. He studied her. This was going to destroy her world…for a while. Could she handle it? He saw no way around it, unless he refused her and that wasn’t an option. She’d made her decision and he wouldn’t push her away this time.

  “I assume that by calling me you haven’t discussed this situation with your brother. Correct?” He kept his eyes locked on hers.

  She searched his face. A cold chill had returned and traveled the length of her spine. She shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, wishing like hell, he wasn’t the one that had to tell her.

  “No, just answer my question. I haven’t talked to my brother.”

  Bruce swirled his wine in the glass and watched it sparkle in the firelight. He stared at her over the rim of his glass for a beat. “Tristian is my hired enforcer. He takes care of those who get out of line. Permanently.” He let the words sink in then continued. “Truth is, sometimes he is, well, part of his job…he is my hired assassin, one of the best.”

  The blood drained out of her face, and she shivered harder. “No…No…you are lying,” she said as tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Bruce put his glass down on the table. “Why would I lie, I’ve nothing to gain and everything to lose.” He moved beside her on the couch and put his arms around her as she pounded her fists against his chest. Once the initial shock wore off and she calmed, he tried to explain it again. “Think of it like this. Tristian is the police in my world. In the mortal world, police keep the order and arrest those unwilling to abide by the laws, using deadly force when deemed necessary. If I call on Tristian, deadly force is necessary to contain the situation. Otherwise someone else handles the problem.”

  “So Tristian is in danger every time he goes to work?”

  “Yes, but he knows the risks and has done this job for years. He is the very best.” Bruce released her and leaned back against the sofa, his arm resting across the back, hand draped around her shoulder.

  She shifted on the sofa to face him. “This is how he provided for us as I was growing up?”

  “Yes, he is well compensated. In addition to his more than adequate salary, if the demon he takes out has property it automatically becomes Tristian’s possession. This job has made him an extremely rich man and he enjoys keeping our world safe as possible and the mortal one oblivious to us as required by our laws”

  “So why would I be at risk?”

  “Since we met, I’ve done some investigating. Apparently, when you were under Tristian’s roof, the family home was protected by the strongest spells ever cast by your mother and father then maintained by Tristian. It’s impervious to the outside world. No one in our world knew where Tristian went when the job was over, nor that he had a little sister. That is the reason he kept you under his thumb or immersed in the mortal world of education and unaware of how he made a living. Otherwise those obsessed with revenge could exact it against you.”

  She raised a brow questioningly. “Then how did you find out who I was?”

  “When you insisted on going out on your own, Tristian called in a favor of my right hand man, Owen. He arranged for your real estate agent, who found the empty building for your store and your apartment. Then Tristian made sure there were protections in place.”

  “So all this time, I thought I was on my own, I was still under my brother’s protection.” The blood returned to her face in a flash of fury. Her fists clenched in her lap and her mouth formed a thin line as the muscle in her jaw worked overtime.

  Anticipating her reaction, he reached for her hands gently coaxing her slender fingers to relax. “It all unraveled the day you came into the salon and commandeered my attention. An immediate intimate connection crackled between us like nothing I’ve ever felt.”

  “I felt something too, but Willow said it was my imagination.” Angie snorted.

  “When I asked about you, Owen insisted you were absolutely off limits and even went so far as to threaten me with bodily harm.” The corners of his lips twitched with amusement. “Such behavior is usually punished severely but Owen has been my trusted advisor for centuries. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and demanded that he tell me what he knew or suffer the consequences.”

  “And he did?”

  “He did, knowing I could be trusted and hoping to avoid what we have now. Owen thought I would come to my senses.” Bruce shrugged, brushed her hair out of her eyes with gentle fingers, and leaned into her whispering. “He was wrong.” Angie tilted her face up toward his and he touched his lips softly to hers. A bolt of lust zinged through him. Bruce pulled away and stood up abruptly. “This is the wrong time and place. It’s time I take you home.”

  “I’m not ready to go home,” Angie protested, grabbed his shoulder, and spun him to face her. “You tell me my brother is an assassin, and there’s another world out there, and they could be gunning for me. Then you want to take me home?” Her voice edged up a notch with every word. “How do you go about your business knowing your life is in danger?” She added extra emphasis on the word you.

  He rubbed his chin and thought for a minute. “It’s really no different than the mortal world. They kill each other, die in car wrecks, kill themselves, and you are subjected to the crossfire every day. How do you survive?” He used her same vocal emphasis.

  “I never considered it.” Her eyes widened in realization while her body relaxed just a bit.

  Smiling, he sat down beside her. “Exactly, and mortals don’t have magic at their disposal. While it takes a toll on our physical well-being and energy, we can use magic to protect ourselves, and the ones we care about.” He noticed the normal color had returned to her face and she’d quit shivering. “Feel better?”

  “I think so, but I’d like to stay a while longer, to decide what to do next. I shouldn’t, but I feel safe here with you. May I stay until I can get my head around all you’ve told me? Could we return to the city on Monday morning? I don’t have to work until the afternoon.”

  He raised a brow and looked down at her. “You told me earlier, Willow will worry.”

  “I’ll call her. She’s probably worried by now, unless she’s out with her hot new boyfriend. She doesn’t know what I decided. In fact, I wasn’t sure until I called you the second time, and your voice felt so soothing. You’re not using your power on me, are you?”

  A chuckle rumbled in his throat. “No. But I’m not sure spending the night with me is all that great an idea.” He wanted to wrap his arms around her, feel her body pressed against his and… That wouldn’t be a good idea, at all. Even the thought had him nearly hard again.

  “You have more than one bedroom in this beautiful home. I could borrow one of your shirts to sleep in.” Angie
said blinking coyly up at him.

  “And if Tristian finds out? Not only am I dating his little sister, but she has spent two nights with me alone at my secluded estate.”

  “I guess we’ll have to handle that when it happens, because I intend to spend more than two nights alone with you and possibly in your bed next time.” She smiled wickedly at him as he raised his eyebrows, shook his head. “I have spent the last two weeks worrying and stressing over this whole situation. I need a little down time to come to terms with it all. Tomorrow, could we relax and get to know each other better? Unless you have other plans?”

  “No other plans, but I have one stipulation. Don’t tease me.” He arched a brow. “You are a beautiful woman and under any other circumstances, you’d already be in my bed. What you are asking is a first in my long life. Fair enough?”

  “More than fair.” she nodded her head. “Now, if you’ll show me to my room and lend me a shirt, I need to call Willow. Angie winced. “She’s not going to be happy, but she’ll understand…eventually. By the way how old are you?”

  He stared fixedly at her, his lips twitched and one side turned up in a lopsided grin. “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. Just curious.”

  “Thirty-eight with six hundred years experience.” He smiled and tucked her hand in his and led the way up a spiral staircase to her room, which was next to his. Bruce found a soft well-worn t-shirt as she requested and tossed it on a chair in her room, while she sat curled on the bed, her back to him, talking with Willow.

  He showered and dressed in black silk lounge pants, he didn’t own a pair of pajamas. Never saw the need for them until now and crawled into bed, emotionally exhausted as well as physically.

  Chapter Eight

  A woman’s piercing screams and hysterical pleas brought Bruce straight out of bed. Bleary eyed and fuzzy brained he wondered who or what had managed to break through his failsafe security system. He grabbed the gun from its niche in his bed’s massive mahogany headboard and flipped the safety off. Then he remembered the evening’s events and his houseguest.

  He hit the floor running and burst through door to find Angie soaked with sweat in her bed pleading for someone’s life. Her pillow and face covered in tears and her whole body quaking uncontrollably. He lowered to the edge of the bed rubbing her back and shaking her gently. “Angie wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

  Her violet eyes flew open and she threw herself at him flinging her arms around his neck in a chokehold.

  Pushed backward by her unexpected force, he righted himself while murmuring, “Angie you’re safe, I’m right here.” Reaching behind his neck, he pried her fingers apart gradually. “Now if you’d just loosen your grip a bit, I might be able to breathe.”

  She let out a sob and loosened her hold. Her face buried in his warm bare chest. He gathered her onto his lap and held her until the shivering subsided, her body relaxed as she cuddled against him. Leaning back against the ornately carved oak headboard, he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly while the adrenalin in his body dissipated and his nerves settled. He silently cursed his involuntary erection as she sat quietly in his lap until her ragged breathing became shallow and even.

  Red patches bloomed on her cheeks as she blew out a breath, leaned back and her eyes meet his. “Having second thoughts?” she asked softly rubbing the back of her hand across her puffy eyes. “Sorry about that, I guess I should have gone home. Willow’s used to my nightmares. Seems to come with the territory of empathic healer.”

  Shaking his head slowly, dark amber eyes full of concern. “No second thoughts. Wished you’d warned me, so I’d known what to do. You all right now?”

  Brows knitted together, she rubbed her temples. “Yes, I think so.” She let out a sigh and gave herself a little shake. “This one was different, probably brought on by my own insecurities and fears after our discussion.”

  He stood up, took a robe from the closet and wrapped it around her, rolling up the sleeves until he saw her hands, then tied the belt around her waist. “There that’ll keep you warm, and for my benefit, covered, making it harder for you to tease me with that beautiful body of yours.” He picked her up putting her feet on the floor. The hem of the robe covered her toes.

  She reached for him tracing the contours of his bare, muscular chest with her fingertips. “And what about me?” Angie cooed and smiled seductively, though a slight nervous tic remained below her right eye.

  With a wicked grin, he growled playfully hoping to take her mind off the nightmares. “The way I see it, turnabout is fair play.” Disappearing out the door, he took the twisting stairs two at a time until he reached the kitchen landing.

  By the time he stopped and looked up the open spiral staircase, she was only half way down and muttering curses. The long robe hampered her steps.

  In the kitchen, Bruce popped mugs of hot chocolate in the microwave along with a plate of cinnamon rolls. Then he placed the warmed food and drinks in the center of the massive oak table and winked at Angie as she entered the kitchen.

  “How’d you do that so fast?” She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and sniffed the air for traces of magic.

  “It’s called a microwave, ever hear of it?” He teased ignoring her inference of misused magic. “Now sit and enjoy. Then maybe we can still get some sleep tonight.”

  She sat on the bench seat behind the table. “I’m not sure closing my eyes again is an option.” She shivered as she bit into the warm gooey roll and sipped at the steaming mug of hot chocolate, topped with a swirl of whipped cream.

  He slid in beside her, put his arm around her, and picked up his mug of hot chocolate. “Nothing will happen to you while you are in my house and under my protection.”

  “Apparently, you can’t control nightmares.”

  “No, that’s one thing I didn’t think to protect against.” He bit the side of his cheek trying hard to look serious. “Sorry about that. I do have a couple of large dream catchers given to me by an old trusted friend. Would you like me to hang one over your bed?”

  She surprised him by nodding. “Native American magic is very strong and real dream catchers are quite powerful.”

  “Done.” He watched her blink slowly and stifle a yawn. “Want to head back to bed?”

  “Yeah, I’ll give it another try.” She tilted her head and smiled weakly. “Could you stay with me?”

  “If that’ll keep the gremlins away…sure,” he said hesitantly. “But I’m going to put you in my bed. There is a lounge chair in my room that I can sleep on.” He smiled sheepishly. “And one of the dream catchers I mentioned already hangs above my bed.”

  Ascending the steps was slow going until he picked her up and carried her to his room. Gently he laid her on the bed and pulled the comforter over her tucking it around her. She grabbed his hand, curled it to her chest sighing contently. As he sat on the bed beside her, waiting for her to fall asleep, exhaustion overtook him and he slumped down beside her. His arms snaked around Angie in a snug embrace.

  Golden slivers of warm sunlight spread over the bed and woke them. The clock on the nightstand indicated they’d slept the morning away.

  Angie pushed the comforter to the side and rolled over to face him, still in his embrace. “One more reason for us to sleep together.” She smiled and sighed contently.

  “You are going to be the death of me in more ways than one.” He groaned tightening his hold on her and felt the soft, round mounds of her breasts against his naked chest through the worn t-shirt she wore. His body’s reaction was immediate as he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent.

  She snuggled closer to him, her soft breath caressing his chest, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. With a curse, he pushed her away and sat up. “You’re playing with fire li’l witch. I’m not known for my control.” He swung his feet to the floor and stood, his back to her, while he reached for the clothes he’d had on the night before. “Come on, I’ll show you around
the place and we can walk or jog the acreage.” I need exercise to cool my desire for you, before things go too far.

  She rolled over and moaned in frustration. “Ok, but can we eat first? I’m starved.”

  “You got it. I’ll see you in the kitchen.” He finished tying his shoes and disappeared quickly out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

  Chapter Nine

  She arrived in the kitchen in a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and her tiny feet were clad in running shoes, rather than the business clothes and heels she’d worn the night before. He made a sound of approval, and raised one eyebrow.

  She followed his glaze. “I always carry a change of clothes and running shoes with me. Just in case a handsome demon offers to whisk me away to his country estate.”

  He frowned at that. “And just how many of these demons did you go home with?”

  Putting her finger under her chin she looked at the ceiling, her lips curved up at the corners. “Let me see, to date…one.” She smiled innocently batting her long eyelashes at him.

  Amused, his eyes danced with mischief. “If I have my way, that’s all there will ever be.” He prepared two plates of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and biscuits and sat them on the kitchen table. Bruce took a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator, poured the yellow liquid into their glasses, without spilling a drop, and left the pitcher in the center of the table.

  “Really. Kinda bossy in the morning, aren’t ya?” Taking a bite of bacon then a sip of orange juice, she chewed slowly and watched his reaction as she placed her hand over his. “Really, I carry a change of clothes and shoes with me so I can walk or run the days stress off after work. Business attire isn’t appropriate for that.”

  “Agreed. Me too, only the clothes and shoes are in a wardrobe in my office. I usually run or if I am here, I ride the stress off.”