A Witch's Beauty (Daughters of Arianne 2)

She had an overwhelming urge to put her hands over her ears, tell him she didn't care, but even she wasn't that brave. Noble and self-sacrificing suggested gentle traits, but when he became determined like this, the intensity of his presence, his resolve, crashed against the cave walls like sound echoes, creating a din inside of her almost as hard to bear as when the skeletons had fallen into piles in the freighter. The power of an angel's will was nothing that a mortal could hope to resist, and the energy of it was pressing her up against the wall, making her want to escape, the Dark One blood roiling within her. He was losing patience with her. The thing he'd once thought he cared about, until she'd lost him his men.

"You know the connection between humans and Dark Ones." He persisted, ignoring her distress. "Humans fight the darkness in themselves as well. This will be the ultimate act of chaos, of evil, tipping that scale, so the Dark Ones could use it not just to tear open a rift, but the whole damn sky, claim Earth and the humans as their own at last. So if there's a way for me to go, I need to go."

"You'd be a liability to me," she insisted.

"If that happens, abandon me," he said brutally. "But it's possible I can help."

"For the ten seconds before they tear you to pieces."

"I can help," he retorted, an edge to his voice. He met her gaze. The knowledge there lanced through her. "Not only for balance. An offering to prove they can let you get close to the Trumpet."

"No." She lifted her head. How had he known? "Don't use my mind like that. I haven't given you any right-"

"So you've already thought of it." He stepped forward, even as she slid along the wall, trying to get away from him. "In the dark shadows of that brilliant mind of yours."

"And discarded it." She hated him for knowing her as well as she knew herself, maybe better, because everything in the past two days was shattering, becoming a lie. He'd never look back on it fondly, for he knew the extent of the evil, how deeply it reached into her now.

"Tell me."

"No. No. No." She said each word more vehemently than the last, and when he put his hands on her shoulders, she struck at him. Not with her considerable defensive abilities, but in despair, slapping at his face, his chest, trying to shove him away even as he brought her in to his body, wrapped himself around her, his wings, cocooning her. "Don't touch me when you..." When you don't want me anymore. When everything has changed. Had to change, not only because of those three angels, but because of what dark things he'd just picked from her mind.

"Stop it, Mina. Stop. Tell me."

"I hate you."

"You don't have to say it. Just say it to me in your mind. Let me see it."

She couldn't resist his compulsion, but he couldn't make her do what she wouldn't. "I'll let you see it, but we're not doing it. I won't. I will convince them alone."

He was silent as she relayed the idea to him, and she expected him to stiffen in shock, or move away from her. He did neither. Which meant, to her terror, he accepted it. Accepted such a terrible thing could come from her mind, such a horrible idea, and he'd still hold her like this.

She couldn't let herself go down that road again. Breaking free of him, she slid under his arm and backed away. "I will convince them alone," she repeated.

"Mina, we need to go in with our very best plan, because there's only one shot at something like this."

Had she thought she liked the term we? Now she despised it.

"You want me to go. You need me to go. You think I don't know what it will cost you to step into that portal? That you're using that indomitable will of yours to squelch the terror of what it will do to you?"

She couldn't bear the softening of his tone, what it did to her insides, making her believe everything hadn't been destroyed. Things she hadn't even known she wanted and now, suddenly, two sunrises and sunsets later, she felt like she couldn't do without. But since when was anything like that a choice for her?

He came to her again, stood before her. Round and round. They'd circled that silver ash so many times it could be a casting, a building of power. There was nowhere to retreat as she stood on the ledge where it met the water, could feel it lapping at her human heels, for she'd shifted to human to lay out the bodies. His broad chest was before her gaze, so capable and strong, and yet so fragile, as all life was fragile. Raising her lashes, she stared at him. "No," she said.

His hands closed on her upper arms as she quivered at the heat of his touch, the way his face tilted over hers. A lock of his damp hair had fallen loose from where he'd slicked it back. "You won't ask me to sacrifice myself, even if it takes the chance of success from zero to the slimmest of possibilities? Even if you'll be lost to eternal torment and damnation without my help?"

His gaze seemed to reach down inside her, pick up her heart, for it felt like it was beating in the inescapable grip of his eyes. "I told you that you would eventually say it back to me," he murmured. "You're saying it now."

Mina stared up at him. "I thought..." She swallowed it back, but he had the courage to say it.

"You thought I hated you." His hands were becoming more gentle. Gods, stroking her skin. "Mina, I hate that I lost three of my angels. That I didn't realize I needed to trust Jonah with the knowledge of the portal and have faith in my ability to figure out another way to keep your trust. I hate what the Dark Ones do to you. But hate you?" She saw a glimmer of white, the rich brown warmth of his irises for just a moment in the flickering lights of her cave. "You won't get rid of me so easily, sweet witch. You know, in the deepest part of your soul, that you need me in order to do this."

When he slid his fingers over her hand, somehow now resting on his chest, she closed her eyes. "I'm so afraid, David."

"I know that."

"I don't want to do it. Not if I'm going to lose you. I don't want to risk you."

"Get over it," he said. "It's the plan that makes the most sense. And even if it didn't, I'm not letting you go into that rift alone. I made an oath to serve the Lady, and to serve yo

u. I'm going to do both. We're going to go together, and we'll figure it out."

As he cupped the side of her face, Mina let out a soft sob, despite herself, and his touch tightened, holding her closer, fingers digging into her hair. He'd left her in anger and violent urgency, come back with guilt and pain. Now, in figuring out what needed to be done to fix mistakes, protect her and serve his Lady, he showed her why he was an angel. Beneath the passion and humor, tenderness, affinity for Rolling Stones' songs and chocolate chip cookies, the uncertainty that could attend making mistakes and learning from them, there was an old soul who understood what things mattered, endured. It pervaded that soothing touch.

She looked up at him then, her heart in her throat. "I really didn't want to care about you at all."

Now he did smile. "I know that."

With a rueful look, David stepped back, though he held on to her hand. "Jonah's on his way. He can be your transport point. You need a strong mind to connect to, one with enough power for a great distance. He's the one to do it."

"No." Mina shook her head, new resolve on her face. "It has to be you. You have to stay here. I don't want him connected to my mind."

"Mina, that's been decided. I'm going."

"You decided. And you can decide all you want, but it's up to me."

Ignoring her, he continued, "Have faith in Jonah. He may see the evil you fight, but he'll see the good in you that keeps you fighting it. I should have trusted him about the portal. Let's not make the same mistake again."

"What will he think when he sees the visions I've had of cutting her throat, tasting her blood on my hands?" She pulled back from him.

David closed the space between them again. "Why are you about to face the greatest fear you have, of the Darkness taking you over, Mina? Why does it matter what Jonah thinks of you? Or even me?"

"Because I'm the only one who has the ability to get back the Trumpet," she snapped.

"That's not it."

Her lip curled back in a feral snarl, her crimson and blue eyes firing as she locked them on his intent face. "Because I'm going to walk in there, be surrounded by them, their energy, their persuasion, and take something from them, damn it. The way they took everything from my mother, so she could give me nothing of herself but my life before she gave up and died. I'm tired of being afraid of it. Tired of fighting who I am, when I don't really know who that is. It's time to find out. And maybe if I can do that, I can believe that I do deserve something else. That I can find out about happiness and laughter. And kiss you just once, without being afraid."