“But that’s it. You’ll never be whole again, at least not in the way you were. And it kills me, Xandra. It kills me that that bastard got so close to you. That you suffered the way you did.”
“You saved me, Declan.”
“Too late! I got to you too late. You saved yourself.”
With help from him, but maybe he doesn’t see it that way. “Does that bother you?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m so damn proud of you, some days I can barely see straight. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have to pay.”
“That isn’t what I want, Declan. Declaring war on the ACW. Taking them all down in some twisted sort of vengeance for me. That kind of darkness isn’t what I need from you.”
“Maybe it isn’t. But I can’t change who I am, Xandra, not even for you. Letting me do this, understanding that I have to do this, is what I need from you. Because I can’t live in a world where a threat like that exists for you. Where they can decide, at any moment, that you’re expendable. That I can’t do.”
He lowers his head then, presses his lips against mine. And I respond. I can’t not respond.
Because there’s something heady about being cared for the way he cares for me. And I need him more with each day and minute and second that passes.
But when his hand comes up to cup my breast, his thumb teasing gently over my nipple, I force myself to pull back. To look him in the eye and stand my ground. “Murder is wrong, Declan. No matter the reason. You have to know that.”
“You say that because you’re a princess of Ipswitch. You’ve been protected your whole life.”
I laugh bitterly, gesturing to the bruises that cover so much of my body. “Does this look to you like I’m protected?”
“No.” He cups my cheek sadly. “But you will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
“It’s my power—”
He silences me with a soft finger against my lips. “A power you don’t have if I’m not around.” Again he brushes soft kisses over my bruises. “This is the Heka I know. This is the world I live in. They have to die, Xandra. Maybe not here, maybe not now. But they have to die.”
Three
There’s nothing to say after that—for either of us. No more teasing, no more kissing, no more joy in just being together. I pull into myself, trying to absorb everything Declan has just said. Trying to wrap my head around it and figure out what my next counterargument should be.
Declan senses my withdrawal, or maybe he’s just as shaken by our conversation as I am. Either way, he presses a gentle kiss on my cheek and then walks out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with a bunch of thoughts that I would suddenly do anything to escape from.
It’s not that easy, though. I may want to shed my fears like a snake sheds its skin, to leave them here in this bathroom and just walk away. But I can’t. Because Declan isn’t talking wildly. He isn’t venting, isn’t boasting. I don’t know when or how, but one day he will bring the ACW members to their knees. And what comes after that will be a mess of epic proportions.
As I step into the shower and start to wash my hair, I try to figure out how to sway Declan away from his way of thinking about the Council and over to mine. But his position is so firm, his desire for vengeance absolute.
I am a princess of Ipswitch, daughter to a queen and king who don’t like or trust the ACW but who are closely allied with them for political reasons. If my lover is the one to bring them down, the political ramifications will be disastrous. It’s why I haven’t told my parents what happened here a week ago, why I haven’t let them know who Kyle actually worked for. Because if they knew the Council tried to kill their seventh daughter, it would be an all-out war. Hundreds—no, thousands of witches, wizards and warlocks would die in the ensuing battle and, in the end, we’d be too weak to protect ourselves. Too weak to stand against any outside threats.
I don’t know what to do, only that I have to somehow convince Declan that this isn’t what I want. What I need.
Am I angry? Yes. Is there a part of me that wants revenge for what they did? Absolutely. But the truth is, all I really want right now is to catch my breath. To try to come to grips with the darker shades of magic that are becoming more a part of me with every day that passes. And to pretend, even for a little while, that the biggest threat to our happiness isn’t the shadow that hovers over Declan and me like a storm about to break.
Hours later, I’m still struggling with what to do. It’s early afternoon now and the lunch rush has finally eased off. I’m trying to catch up on my paperwork—with everything that’s been going on lately I’ve been letting things slide—but all I can think about is the argument I had with Declan earlier.
Still, I open the ordering spreadsheet on the computer, start making notes of all the supplies we need for the upcoming week. If I can’t solve the problems of my witch side, then at least I can keep the human side of my life going as smoothly as possible.
But that doesn’t last long before Travis sticks his head in my door and says, “Nate’s here.”
I glance up from what I’m doing with a raised brow. “And this matters to me because . . . ?”
He sighs heavily and flops down in one of the chairs on the other side of my desk. “You know, Xandra, just because you and Declan are playing kissy face with each other doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep your other options open. Nate’s a great catch.”
“Not to be obnoxious,” I tell my best barista, “but shouldn’t you be making coffee instead of planning out my love life?”
“Luckily for you, I can do both. Besides, I’m on a break.” He makes a point of looking at his watch. “According to this, I’ve got thirteen minutes left before I have to report back to the front of the house. Which means I have plenty of time to help you freshen up a bit before you go out to the counter to serve Nate’s coffee. Once I saw him come in, I told Meg to stall, so there’s a little bit of a line.”
“You think that’s a good thing to admit to the boss?”
He rolls his eyes. “Honey, we don’t have time for this.” He crowds me as he scoots behind my desk. “Now, where’s your purse?”
“What do I need my purse for?”
“You’re still carrying that little emergency repair kit I made for you, right? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Every girl needs a little improvement now and again.” He pauses to look at me. “Although, it’s kind of hard to repair what was never fixed up to begin with.”
“That’s because I spent too long playing kissy face with Declan this morning.”
“Of course you did. If I had that fine specimen of manhood in my bed, I’m not sure I’d ever get out.” He finds where I stuck my bag under the desk and starts rummaging through it.
“And yet you’re still pushing Nate at me.”
“Honey, guys like Declan don’t stick around forever. Especially”—he eyes my jeans and fuzzy sweater with a look somewhere between dismay and disgust—“if you become one of those women who lets herself go once she’s got a man.” He hands me a raspberry-colored lip gloss. “Here, put this on. It’ll plump up your lips. And maybe Nate won’t notice those bags under your eyes.”
I glower at him. “I can fire you, you know.”
He snorts. “If you fire me, you’ll have to be up front every morning, charming all the customers. And honey, you might be gorgeous, but charming you are not.”
“Touché.” I take the gloss from him and start applying it—not because I have any desire to primp for the homicide detective, who is my friend and former romantic possibility, but because Travis is like a dog with a bone once he gets an idea in his head. Nothing short of full compliance will get him to move on to something else.