Chapter 16
Icross my arms as I stare at the summoning circle. Clara wasn't messing around when she said she sealed this thing. There's a sheen to the floor, preserving not only the chalk marks, but the scuffs littering the wood as well.
As my gaze brushes over the marks, I try to decipher where they came from.
A scratch here, a gouge there. Some of them could have come from me.
In the beginning, I wasn't very careful about my claws. They may be formed from shadows, but they're capable of a lot more than most would expect. More substantial than smoke, yet less than my actual claws. To someone like Clara, they’re as solid as I want them to be. To myself, they’re an echo of a sensation, more magic than physical touch.
A heavy sigh falls from my lips, and I drop my arms. I shouldn't be here.
I should be tucked next to Clara with her in my arms. If she wakes up and I'm gone, she'll probably think the worst. Ever since the birds started chirping two hours ago, though, I've been thinking about this damn circle.
Questions piled up until I couldn't take it anymore, and here I am.
“Omen?” Clara's sleepy voice washes over me, and an unbidden smile creeps over my face.
I hold out my arm and she slips underneath, tucking her body close to mine. The large black shirt she's wearing rides up her thighs, and I slip my hand underneath the fabric. I revel in the feel of her soft skin under my palm.
“You should be sleeping still,” I murmur.
She yawns, then rubs the tip of her nose on my chest. “I had to pee.”
“Charming, little witch,” I say softly, and she snorts.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how Dimitri got here. Him being here isn't a big deal, but if someone else shows up…well, I can't guarantee they'll be friendly.”
She pulls back and gazes up at me. “Uh, Dimitri being here wasn't a big deal? Is that what we're going with? Because you practically threw him through a wall and then ordered me around in my own house.”
I roll my eyes, tugging her close once more.
“I didn't say I handled it well. It just wasn't as big of a deal as I made it out to be.
I wasn't thinking clearly.” I clear my throat.
“However, the circle opened up an avenue through the void. Except it should have contained him here. Instead, he popped right into your bedroom.”
“And you're trying to figure out why?”
“Mhm.” I release her and drop into a crouch. My fingers brush over the lacquered surface. I let out a soft oh and snicker.
Clara drops next to me. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
“Just your shitty chalk work, little witch.” I point to my sigil. “See this line? It trails off at the curl like you dragged the chalk along instead of picking it up. This allowed for others to channel the energy flowing from one dimension to another.”
She tilts her head this way and that before huffing. “Well, shit. How do we fix it?”
I sigh and push to my feet. “Can’t. Nothing we can do.”
I pivot and saunter into the kitchen. Clara stumbles after me as I fill the kettle for tea.
She collapses onto the stool and I wonder if I could get her to go back to bed.
We spent most of the day yesterday testing the limits of her bed frame.
Then the floor. And the shower, though that last one didn't quite work out.
Not being able to control my shadows didn't help.
They kept knocking open the shower door, spraying water everywhere.
It may have ended in laughter, but she needs a better shower if she wants to live out that particular fantasy.
She sighs as I set a steaming cup in front of her. “What do you mean, there's nothing we can do? I thought if I sealed it—I didn't mean to fuck it up.”
“You didn't fuck it up, Clara.” I lean against the counter, then straighten again when she lets out a giggle.
“My kitchen isn't exactly made for demons. I'd apologize, but I don't much feel like it.” Her snarkiness is broken by a yawn. “So, do I have to worry about random demons popping in? Because that could be disconcerting, to say the least.”
“I suppose it would be. Demons aren't being summoned often, though. Still doesn't make sense why Dimitri just showed up. Maybe you should get rid of the summoning circle,” I murmur.
Her head snaps up. “But that means you wouldn't be able to come back. Unless that's a subtle hint that you got what you wanted—”
My shadows snap out and cover her mouth, cutting off her bullshit. “Would you like to try again?”
Her eyes narrow, then she nods, and I pull my shadows back. “You said if I got rid of the circle, then no one could come. So, if you want me to get rid of it, stands to reason you don't want to come back.”
I don't know how to explain to her what's going on in my head.
My arguments are selfish and personal. Influencing her either way won't help in the long run.
And if she gets hurt because I encouraged her to keep the circle, I'll never forgive myself.
Even if I don't plan on binding my soul to hers, I wouldn't be able to live with myself after that.
“I can't have an opinion on it, Clara. I'll have to live with your decision either way,” I finally say when her gaze becomes too insistent.
I lean against the counter and sip my tea, feigning indifference while my emotions rage inside. From the look on her face, I'm not doing a very good job.
“Well, you're not very helpful, are you?”
“What would you have me say?”
“I don't know, maybe what you want?”
“You.” I take another sip.
Her nostrils flare. “You mean my pussy.”
Slowly, I shake my head. We're tiptoeing into dangerous territory.
“Oh, so the sex was bad?”
I rear back, almost knocking my head on the cupboard. “What? That's not what I said.”
“It was implied,” she says haughtily. She sips her tea as if she didn't just throw a bomb in my face.
“Not going to work, little witch.” I set my cup down and saunter around the island. She turns with me until her back is pressed against the counter. “Distracting me isn't going to make the conversation go away.”
“Can you blame a witch? I mean, you're essentially making me choose how this goes with absolutely no input from you.”
I lean my hands on the island, boxing her in. A shiver rolls through her body and my cock hardens. As much as I want to spread her on the counter and bury my face between her legs, she needs to make a decision. Then I can reward her.
“I can't help you, Clara. You have to figure out if the risks are worth it.”
“The risk of some rando popping into the summoning circle without me knowing.”
“Among other things.”
Her head snaps up at that, a wild look in her eyes. “What other things?”
I slide my hand to the back of her neck and squeeze, then let her go and straighten.
“I don't know how long I can go back and forth without…
difficulties. I have responsibilities in Hell.
With time not lining up in this dimension, I have no idea how long I'll be gone in either place. You'd be living—”
“The life I choose. Whichever way I go.”
“Exactly. Whatever you choose, you'll have to live with the outcome.”
She traces a finger down my chest, over my stomach, and hooks onto my boxer briefs. “Why do demons wear clothes? Seems like they'd just go around naked.”
“Same reason humans do, I suppose. Is this your subtle way of trying to get me naked?”
She smirks, toying with the fabric. “Maybe. I might need a little refresher of what I'd be missing.”
I scan the island, then grab her wrist and push it away.
My waistband snaps into my stomach and she grins.
I slip my hands to her waist and lift her.
Her ass hits the cold counter and she squeals.
I nudge her knees apart, making room to step between her legs.
She freezes, gazing up at me with wide eyes.
“This is my shirt, you know,” I murmur.
“Did you want it back?”
“You're going to need it for a bit. Unless you'd like to be naked on a cold counter.”
“If you're doing it right, I won't be cold for long.”
I lean into her, our lips brushing and whisper, “Is that a challenge, little witch?”
I seal our mouths together before she can answer. She moans, her hands sliding up my chest. Her nails dig into my skin and I groan. My tongue sweeps along hers, devoring her—relishing her taste. When her heels hook around my thighs, I pull away and rest my forehead on hers.
She sucks in a sharp breath when I guide her down onto the island.
She lifts her hips and I tug her underwear off.
I skim my palms from her ankles to her thighs.
Leaning over her, I move my hands to her tits and the shirt rides up.
A lifetime could pass and I would still be capitvated by the sight of her.
She grabs my wrists and I brush my thumbs over her nipples.
They turn into hard nubs, and I lick my lips.
“Omen, please,” she breathes, and I stop, earning myself a glare.
“You need to make a decision about the circle, Clara.”
Should I be doing this while I'm playing with her body?
Probably not. The more I think about it, the less I care.
I can't keep my hands off her now that I've had a taste of her.
Now that I know what she sounds like when I'm deep inside her, there's an urgency within me.
Going another minute without hearing it again would be a special type of torture.
A low whine leaves her as she digs her heels into my thighs. “After. I need…”
“I know what you want, but you need to tell me what you plan to do.” I pinch her nipple to accent my point.
“I can't just decide on a whim,” she whimpers as I roll the hard nub between my fingers. I release it when she tips her chin up and stares at the ceiling. “I wish…”
My body covers hers and she sighs, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I've never been one to cuddle, yet with Clara I can't get enough.
I'm sure it's the thread tying us together.
Being connected to someone is new for me.
I can't tell Clara about being soulbound.
It'll only influence her decision about my staying.
Plus, I won't let her throw away her life for an existence in Hell.
It's been hundreds of years since a witch was in Hell. The demons would fucking lose it. There'd be meetings and councils and paperwork. So much fucking paperwork. At least she'd be safe there, but I can't risk her resenting me later.
“What do you wish, little witch?” I murmur into her neck.
“I wish there was a way to get rid of the circle, but keep you,” she whispers.
It's a good thing my face is hidden or she'd know I'm keeping things from her.
I hum, hoping she lets it go. If she keeps pushing, I'll confess everything, which will freak her out and end with her banishing me.
Neither of us needs to go through something like that.
A loud thud echoes through the room and my shadows burst from my body, shielding her from the threat.
Clara laughs, pushing at them as if they'll just dissolve. “You're jumpy for a demon.”
The shadows form into wings, and I search the kitchen for the source of the noise. I scowl when I spot the black book lying innocently on the counter next to the stove. If only it would have fallen onto an open flame.
“Do not move,” I growl, then push off of her.
I stalk over to the book and go to slam it shut when I catch the spell. Hesitation takes over and I stare at the page. Not a spell, a description. A definition.
“Sorry. I must have put it back wonky.” Clara says, and I glance over my shoulder. “What'd it open to?”
I close the book gently, though all I want to do is rip out every single page.
I nestle it between two cookbooks, then glare at the tome.
I'll have to get rid of it before the damned thing guides her down the path I'm desperately trying to avoid.
Keeping information from her probably isn't the best idea.
If she finds out, she'll be pissed. I'd deserve whatever bullshit she throws my way at that point.
“Omen?”
I clear my throat, realizing I didn't answer her question. I could lie and make up something, but she might read into whatever spell I throw out. Then we'll be in a whole other mess. Telling the truth isn't an option.
“It was nothing.” I round the island again and run my hands up her legs. “Now, where were we?”