Demon's Dance

by Keri Arthur

  Aiden frowned. “What makes you think there's two?”

  Belle quickly filled him in on what we’d discovered about soucouyants and then added, “Nothing I've found suggests the soucouyant is, in any way, a skin walker, which means it could be behind the death of Kyle Jacobson but not the skinning victims.”

  Aiden scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “Do I need to ask what a skin walker is?”

  Belle once again filled him in. “But if that’s what we’re dealing with here, then we’re obviously dealing with a very obscure branch of walker—one that actually steals the skin of their victims.”

  Aiden picked up his coffee and leaned back in his seat. “Monty didn’t mention that possibility when we were discussing the situation last night.”

  “Monty hasn’t the advantage of spirit guides.” I took a sip of coffee. “And it’s not like skin walkers are a common variety of witch here in Australia.”

  “For which I'm extremely grateful,” he muttered. “I take it your books haven't much on them?”

  “No, but that's not really surprising.”

  “Monty has access to the witch archives in Canberra,” I said. “If there’s any place in Australia that will have information on them, then it should be there.”

  “He did mention going online to search through some archive last night.” He drank some coffee and then added, “How likely is it that this soucouyant will strike again?”

  “That's an unknown, simply because we just don't know enough about it.”

  He grunted, then shifted in his chair so that he was looking straight at me. My heart instantly skipped into overdrive.

  This was it.

  This was the moment of truth. The time when I either came clean about my history or walked away from a relationship that had barely even begun.

  Because there was no other option now—that was very evident from the determination in his eyes.

  I took a deep breath and released it slowly.

  I knew what I had to do.

  I just didn't know if I had the courage to do it.

  Six

  “So that chat we were supposed to have yesterday morning,” he said softly. “You want to do it here, or over dinner?”

  “And that’s my cue to get out of here.” Belle rose. “You two can nut this one out on your lonesomes.”

  Coward, I grumbled, as she grabbed her coffee and made a hasty retreat.

  No, just being sensible. Three is always a crowd when it comes to this kind of heart-to-heart.

  I'm not ready for a heart-to-heart with the man. I just wanted to enjoy being with him for a little while longer.

  Now who’s the coward?

  I think the fact that it’s taken me so long to get into another relationship has well and truly proven it’s one of my character traits—at least when it comes to the emotional stuff.

  “Liz, will you stop talking to Belle and look at me?”

  I sighed and did so. For the first time in ages, his expression was guarded.

  “Aiden—”

  “No more lies, Lizzie. No more half-truths. I don’t want to be a part of any sort of relationship based on either.”

  Even though I'd been expecting such a statement, a chill nevertheless went through me. “That sounded an awful lot like an ultimatum.”

  “I suppose it is.” He hesitated. “The problem, you see, is that I’ve been through all this once before, and I’ll not do it again.”

  “With the wolf you mentioned once before—the one who loved and left you?”

  “It’s debatable whether she ever really loved me, but yes.”

  “That’s still different to this situation though, because you and I can never—”

  “This isn’t about us being wolf and witch,” he cut in. “This is about trust, and whether you’re actually willing to let someone other than Belle into your life.”

  “Except if I do let you in, I’m setting myself up for heartache further down the line, and for the simple reason that I am a witch rather than a werewolf.”

  Something flared in his eyes—something that spoke of understanding and yet held an odd hint of... not desire, not even yearning, but something close to both. He grabbed my hands, held them gently but securely, his skin oh-so warm compared to mine. But then, my lack of heat had nothing to do with being cold, but rather the fact I didn’t want to be doing this—not here, not now, and certainly not with a man who would probably end up breaking my heart.

  But Belle was right. If this reservation was our end destination, then we’d certainly need Aiden, his rangers, and even the council in our corner.

  Whether it would, in the end, make any difference was an unknown point at this stage of the game.

  “Do you really think you’re alone in taking that risk?” he asked softly.

  The smile that tugged my lips held little in the way of amusement. “Why would I think otherwise? You’ve certainly sent out enough warnings over the last few months that you’ll never get deeply involved with someone who wasn’t a werewolf.”

  “And for the most part, that’s true. But that doesn’t mean the risk isn’t there. Doesn’t mean I won’t be hurt if you decide you’ve fooled around long enough with a werewolf and walk away.” He released one hand and lightly brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek. “None of us know what the future holds, Liz. None of us know which relationship will develop into a meeting of heart and soul. I can’t ever promise that I won’t find someone else, but neither can you. All I know is, at this point in time, I want to be with you. I want to explore the full breadth and width of this attraction between us. But only if honesty is a part of that relationship.”

  His words had tears stinging my eyes. I blinked the ridiculous things away and took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath.

  “Fine,” I said eventually. “But you can’t share this with anyone, Aiden. The gossip brigade has enough to talk about already.”

  “You have my word that I will never willingly share anything with the brigade.” His brief smile died as quickly as it had appeared. “And no one else has the need to know.”

  “Good.” I paused to drink some coffee and wished it were something stronger. “While my real name is now Elizabeth Grace, it’s not the name I was born with—that’s Elizabeth Marlowe. My father is a leading member of the high witch council.”

  He didn't say anything. He just waited for me to continue. Perhaps he knew that if he spoke, my courage might falter.

  “I was an utter disappointment to my parents. They’re two of the strongest witches of their generation, and both my sister and brother were similarly gifted. I was not, and they never let me forget it.”

  “Is that why you ran?” he asked softly.

  “No.” I paused again. “When I was sixteen years old, my sister was murdered; to say it had a devastating effect on my parents—but particularly my dad—is something of an understatement.”

  He squeezed the hand he still held, but didn't offer any of the usual platitudes. But then, having lost his own sister, he knew well enough how little they helped.

  “She was the final victim of a serial killer,” I continued after a moment, “and my father took his grief out on me—”

  “Why?” Aiden cut in. “What did you have to do with her death?”

  I smiled, but only because it was better than releasing the pain and the tears that were gathering. “Nothing. My crime was finding her when they, for all their abilities and power, could not.”

  “That hardly seems reasonable—”

  “Grief and reason don’t often go together, Aiden. You know that.”

  “True.” He hesitated. “So you ran to get away from your dad’s anger?”

  “Not so much his anger, but his punishment.”

  “What did he do?”

  I briefly closed my eyes and took another of those deep breaths that did little to ease the turmoil inside. “He decided that the only possible use I could have was as a breeder—that in my children, th
e power that I was missing might be found.”

  Or rather, the power that had been lost with Cat’s death would be reborn in one of my offspring.

  Aiden didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move. And yet a wave of disbelief and fury hit me, a force so strong it damn near blistered my senses.

  “As I’ve said before,” I continued, “arranged marriages remain very common amongst witch families—”

  “But you were sixteen—”

  “Which only meant I couldn't marry without his consent.” My mouth twisted. “My consent apparently didn’t matter.”

  “Fuck, Liz, no wonder you ran.” He tugged me closer and rested his forehead against mine. “Did you even know the man?”

  I closed my eyes, drawing strength from his closeness. “Yes. He was one of my father’s friends—a man who divorced his first wife because he discovered she couldn’t have children, and who’d lost both his second wife and child after she'd suffered a major hemorrhage when she was five months pregnant. He was thirty-eight years old, Aiden. More than double my age.”

  And, like my father, a disciplinarian. My father knew Clayton would keep me in line no matter what it took—be it by word, hand, or even magic. My mother had objected, but those objections had fallen strangely quiet on the eve of the marriage. It would have made no difference anyway. By that time, the agreement certificate—and my fate—had been signed, sealed, and delivered.

  At the time, I’d felt stranded and horribly betrayed, but I couldn’t help but wonder now if I’d been the only one. I hadn’t sensed any sort of spell on my mother—and she was certainly a strong enough witch to have sensed and retaliated against any sort of effort to magically change her mind or mute her objections—but there were other ways to silence. Telepathy, for instance.

  “Fuck, Liz, that's—” Aiden stopped and shook his head. “That a father could do that to his own daughter—wow.”

  “Oh, that wasn't the worst of it.” I paused and swallowed heavily against the bitter taste of bile rising up my throat. “One of the conditions of the marriage contract was ensuring I was fertile and fully capable of carrying a child to term. I was sixteen years old. I'd only just started my period and hadn't even had sex yet. You can imagine what that did to me.”

  “I'm surprised it didn't scare you off both men and sex for life.” His voice was grim and there was anger in his eyes. Deep anger. For me. For the child I'd been and what I'd been forced to endure.

  And suddenly, all the doubts, all the fears, and the so very deep-seated reluctance to trust disappeared.

  Because if the future I feared did come to pass—if my father and Clayton did come to this reservation to claim what they considered theirs—then Aiden would stand by my side, ready to go into battle for me.

  Whether or not we were still together.

  It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. No matter what happened now, Belle and I were no longer alone.

  And that made me want to cry all over again—but this time in utter happiness and relief rather than in fear and pain.

  “Was there nothing you could do to stop this insanity?” he asked. “No one you could turn to?”

  “No. My father is a man of power and influence—there are few who'd dare gainsay him.” My grandfather might have, but by that stage he was long dead.

  Aiden hesitated, and then asked softly, “Was the marriage consummated?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, battling the wave of fear, horror, and pain that rose with those words. “Almost.”

  Aiden didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move. Not for several seconds. But his fury was so fierce that it flowed over me, through me, filling every breath with its heat.

  “Belle?” he said eventually.

  I swallowed heavily and nodded. “I was underpowered and she was a Sarr witch. No one understood our connection and they certainly had no respect for Belle, despite the fact she’s one of the strongest telepaths out there. And let me tell you, that night she was fierce.”

  “I can imagine,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen her truly angry, but she still scares the fuck out of me.”

  I laughed, but it came out a hiccup and ended as a half sob. Aiden quickly moved out of the chair, onto his knees in front of me, and pulled me close. I closed my eyes against the sting of tears and relaxed into his body, letting his warmth and strength batter away the worst of the memories.

  “So how did you escape Canberra?” he asked eventually.

  “I might be underpowered, but I'm not stupid.” My lips twisted, but there was little amusement in it. “And, thanks to my grandfather, I also had access to a rather large inheritance. Money really does talk, especially when you’re dealing with people who aren’t exactly law-abiding.”

  But—now that I was actually thinking about it—the fact that I had been able to access the money at sixteen was rather unusual, as most trusts didn't mature until the recipient was either eighteen or even twenty-one. But perhaps my grandfather had had some inkling of the trouble headed my way and done his best to counter it. Without his money, I would never have escaped.

  “Even so, I wouldn’t have thought the sixteen-year-old daughter of a high-flying witch would have any idea where to even look for such people.”

  “I didn’t.”

  I pulled back a little and met his gaze. The blue depths were filled with so much caring and understanding that my stomach twisted. It would be so very easy to fall in love with this man….

  I swallowed the thought and added, “But Belle’s a Sarr, and it was through her family’s ‘questionable connections’ we were able to change our names and disappear so completely.”

  “Thank God for questionable connections, then.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my lips and oddly comforting. “And thank God you were able to get away.”

  “Yes.” A memory of cold hands on warm flesh stirred, and a shudder went through me.

  My father might have stolen so much from my childhood—simple things, like the love and the caring of a father—but it had been Clayton who'd stolen my innocence.

  Even if, in the end, the innocence he’d coveted most had escaped him.

  I shuddered again and thrust the memories back into the box where they'd long been locked. I wasn't ready to confront the full extent of them yet.

  And probably never would be.

  “At least I now understand why you hate your parents,” he said, “and why you've been so afraid to confide in anyone.”

  “My parents are the power couple in Canberra, Aiden. They have allegiances and allies scattered throughout Australia and Europe. I couldn't ever trust that someone wouldn't give us away if they thought they could gain either an advantage or favor by doing so.”

  “Which is why you never settled anywhere permanently, and why you confide in so few.”

  “We've never fully confided to anyone. Not until now—not until you.”

  “Thank you.” His gaze briefly searched mine. “There is one thing you’ve forgotten in all this, though.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And what might that be?”

  “The fact that forced marriages are illegal in Australia.” He brushed some hair away from my eyes, his touch tender. “It may be common practice amongst witch kind to arrange a marriage—but forcing someone into one is illegal. You have the weight of the law on your side.”

  “And they have the weight of influence and position on theirs. I know which side I’d put my money on if it ever came down to a court of law.”

  “If your father values his power and influence as much as you imply, there’s no way known he’d go to court over such a matter. He’d have too much to lose.”

  Which was true enough. But it would never get to court. He’d simply wrap his magic around me and force me to return to Clayton, just as he’d forced me to sign the documents of agreement and the marriage certificate.

  “And Monty?” Aiden asked. “Will he out you?”

&nbs
p; “No. We made an agreement—we tell him all about the wild magic, and he keeps our presence here a secret.”

  “So Belle hasn't—in any way—stepped in to ensure that?”

  A smile twitched my lips. “Maybe. Just a little.”

  “I'd be almost disappointed if she hadn't.” He slipped his hand around to the back of my neck, holding me still as he kissed me. Softly—gently—but with so much underlying emotion that those damn tears threatened again.

  “I'd really like you to spend the night with me. I know we both have to work tomorrow, but I can get you back here in plenty of time.”

  “I'd really like that.” I kissed him again then pushed to my feet. “Give me five minutes to gather a few things.”

  It took me three. Forty-five minutes later we were back at his place, where he cooked for me, pampered me, and then escorted me up to bed. But we didn't make love. Not then. Not until the morning.

  He simply held me in his arms and made me feel safer than I'd ever felt in my entire life.

  The café was back to its usual busy self the next day even if I was a little slower. Despite the numbing salve I’d rather liberally applied when I’d gotten home, the various aches and pains felt the need to protest every time I either moved too suddenly or twisted the wrong way.

  And obviously, the slowness of body had extended to my brain, because it took me entirely too long to realize Monty was sitting at one of the corner tables, sipping coffee and munching on a piece of carrot cake as he scrolled through a screen on his phone.

  “When did he get here?” I asked as I finished plating up cake for a couple of customers.

  “Monty?” Belle brushed past to get the cream. “I felt a vague surge of energy about twenty minutes ago, but I didn't really pay much attention to it as there was no sense of threat.”

  “Odd that I didn't feel it.”

  She shrugged and swirled cream onto the top of the hot chocolate she was making. “We've been flat-out, so not really.”

  “I guess.” It still niggled though, so once I'd delivered the cakes to the table I was looking after, I walked over and sat down opposite him. This close, the tiny threads of red and gold energy that swirled around his body were very evident. Though I had no idea what the spell was, I very much suspected it had been designed to mute his energy output.