by Michele Hauf
The halo flashed a brilliant blue and then a medley of colors, such as an aurora borealis. The soul bringer’s body lifted from the earth and floated upward a few feet.
Vika hugged her sister tightly while she clasped CJ’s hand. The garden had gone so still the grasses did not sway nor did a single cricket chirp.
With a whoosh of perfumed air, massive wings suddenly swept out behind Reichardt’s shoulders, spanning the small garden. Gorgeous, they were fashioned of an eerie blue smoky substance, yet formed as feathers. All angels’ wings were in the form of their original occupation. Vika couldn’t decide what the blue smoke signified for Reichardt. The Seventh Soul? She had no clue.
The soul bringer cried out. His body glowed all over blue, shimmering and dazzling so all three looked aside from the brilliance. Behind her, the witch ball suddenly shattered, releasing the butterfly soul to the universe. And Reichardt’s wings suddenly dispersed into glistening bits of crystal, dropping at once to the ground at their feet.
The soul bringer’s body followed, collapsing upon the crystal angel dust. The halo was gone. A single blue feather lay tucked amidst the dust.
“Was that it?” Vika whispered.
“I think so.” Certainly kissed her aside the neck. “That was beautiful.”
“Is he okay?” Libby plunged to kneel beside Reichardt. She stroked his thick, dark hair, and he groaned, coming to. “Reichardt?”
“I can feel....” He smiled at Libby. “I can feel.”
“He’ll quickly lose memory of all his interactions in this realm and be left as if a newborn in this world,” Certainly said. “Let’s get him inside and— Vika, can you sweep up the angel dust? It might come in handy someday.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. Dust and broom, coming right up!”
As Libby led Reichardt into the house, Vika was swept into Certainly’s arms. He kissed her then leaned back, swaying with her beneath the moonlight. “We did good tonight.”
“I think so. We make an interesting team, dark witch.”
“Interesting?”
“Yes, and I’d rather that than perfect, or made-for-one-another, or even cute.”
“Never cute, my Moonlit Soul Vestibule. You absolutely beam now. You’re not cold, either.”
“It feels good to be me again. Thank you, Certainly. You think Libby’s got a new boyfriend now?”
“He’ll make an interesting one, for sure. A two-thousand-year-old virgin who will soon have no grasp on his past?”
“She could so mold that guy to her will. But she won’t. She’ll be good for him.”
“I suspect you’ll have a new boarder. Unless we can learn where he lives before his memory leaves.”
“I should go pry that out of him sooner rather than later.” She kissed him quickly then promised she’d return with a broom.
* * *
Certainly squatted before the angel dust. Gorgeous stuff. It was valued by vampires and angels, and hell, any paranormal breed could find a use for it, both good or evil. He picked up the blue feather, which was as large as an ostrich plume but with tight vanes that felt liquid under his touch.
“From Above,” he said. “A piece of the divine.”
The value of this feather was astronomical, and he knew exactly where he could store it for later use in a spell.
On second thought...
“No. This belongs to Reichardt. He’ll need a souvenir, whether or not it means anything to him now.”
Tucking the feather in his shirt pocket, he stood and glanced to the moon. “Blessed be,” he said. “And all will be well.”
Chapter 31
A week later the world was well. Dark witches were staying out of Daemonia. The occasional werewolf body required removal before mortals stumbled onto the mess. The local hotels were receiving strange but welcome donations of chandeliers.
And a former soul bringer was learning to vacuum.
Vika followed Reichardt’s careful path as he pushed the vacuum cleaner around in the living room beneath the chandelier. They’d discovered he did keep an apartment in Paris, but it was empty, with but a bed and a chair, and a few odd knickknacks. They’d decided to keep the place until Reichardt could decide for himself if he preferred the bachelor’s lifestyle or to share the St. Charleses’ home.
“Really, Libby?”
Libby stood proudly watching her man fit the vacuum into a corner behind the couch. “He enjoys it. Says it gives him a sense of purpose. Hell, the man is a babe in the world, Vika. He’s curious about everything, but an afternoon at the park is like overload to his emotions. We have to take things slow. Besides, I reward him with cookies.”
“I see great things for the two of you.”
“Do you really?”
Vika wasn’t sure about that. But if anyone could make a relationship of what they had been given, it was Libby.
“How’s your hip?” Libby asked.
“Sore. I’m headed to CJ’s place now. Sayne told me earlier he had an appointment with him this afternoon.”
“Matching love tattoos?” Libby said with a flutter of her lashes.
“I don’t know. He’s probably getting another spell tattoo. I’m staying at CJ’s tonight, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t make him work too hard.”
“Vika, please. After the work, the guy earns a massage.”
“I see.” Oh, yes, their relationship definitely held promise.
When Vika arrived at CJ’s loft, yet another delivery team was carrying out a chandelier that had been carefully packed and shrink-wrapped. CJ wanted to keep a dozen of the fixtures. And Vika loved the ones with black and red crystals, so she had suggested those remain, as well. CJ had invited her to live with him, and while she loved her round white house, the idea of hanging around while Libby and Reichardt started whatever it was they intended to begin had been all she’d needed to agree. She intended to gradually move in over the next few weeks.
Caught about the waist from behind, she twirled in her lover’s arms. “Sayne gone already?”
“An hour ago,” he said. “Where have you been?”
“At home. Libby is teaching Reichardt to vacuum.”
His lifted brow got an agreeing nod from her. “I know, right? Strange as it may seem, I have hope for that pair. Though he’s lost all his former powers and Libby says he’s physically quite weak, despite the six-pack and huge biceps he sports.”
“The man is completely mortal now. Stripping his immortality from him probably played a real number on his body. And he was told about his past. Don’t you think that’s going to screw with his brain? Knowing how powerful he once was?”
“Libby will see him through it. She, and her chocolate chip cookies. She sent some along for you.” He took the zip bag and set it on the kitchen counter. “So let me see the artwork,” she said, drawing her fingers down his unbuttoned shirt and teasing at his bare chest. “Where is it?”
He tugged up his sleeve and revealed his wrist. Above the barbed rose sat a thick black checkmark with fresh red edges.
She tilted her head to study it but couldn’t figure what it meant.
“It’s a V,” he finally said.
“Oh. For Vika?”
“For Viktorie. For my Vivacious Vixen. For us.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. No magic?”
“All the magic required is right here.” He kissed her, spreading his hands through her hair and pulling her in close. “And here.” He planted a kiss on her nose. “And here.” Her forehead, her chin and down her neck. “No more visitors or pickups today. Let’s get naked.”
“Yes.” She strolled toward the bed, unzipping the back of her dress and letting it fall to her hips. “Then you can see what I had Sayne do this morning.”
“You— You got a tattoo? He didn’t mention— Vika?”
She shimmied her hips, and her dress slid down to puddle in black waves on the floor. Certainly’s hands slid up her thigh and stopped at the top of her derriere.
She felt his kiss there, beside the sweet ache lingering from the tattoo needle.
“My name,” he said. “Oh, witch, this is...”
“You like it? It means I’m yours. Or you’re mine. Or—”
“It means you can’t ever get rid of me now. How many other Certainlys are there out there?”
“I can always change it to Certainly Mine.”
“Vixen. We’d better not put you on your back until it’s healed.” He stood and pressed her stomach and chest against the bed poster. “Guess we’ll have to do it standing up.”
“Or in the air?” she suggested, tapping his left hand.
Her lover wrapped his arms about her, and together they twirled up from the floor to float near the dazzle of a red chandelier. Bodies painted with crimson light, they forged the night with sexmagic and a true love that ran deep into their souls. The darkness had receded, and together they now shared the light.
MICHELE HAUF
has been writing romance, action-adventure and fantasy stories for more than twenty years. Her first published novel was Dark Rapture. France, musketeers, vampires and faeries populate her stories. And if she followed the adage “write what you know,” all her stories would have snow in them. Fortunately, she steps beyond her comfort zone and writes about countries she has never visited and of creatures she has never seen.
Michele can be found on Facebook and Twitter and at michelehauf.com. You can also write to Michele at P.O. Box 23, Anoka, MN 55303.
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