A Witch's Beauty (Daughters of Arianne 2)

"But how many bodies would pile up before then?" She shook her head. "Whatever that 'check' is, find it soon. Just in case. I won't look for it myself. If I knew of it, I'd seek a way to counter it."

"You checked yourself, several weeks ago."

"Because of him. Because of his love." Mortified, she found she was having to blink back tears. "Find it, damn it."

Jonah studied her. "I believe you are one of the most extraordinary beings I've ever met." He inclined his head, and she knew she could take it as his promise to her. "We'll find it."

Turning on her heel, she followed Raphael deeper into the chambers of the Citadel.

The area they'd given David was a corner room, with a plethora of the large open windows that were scattered throughout the Citadel to let in the strong sunlight. He was on his side on a bed, the cover pulled just over a bare hip, revealing the multiple burns and gashes. She also noted new ones where, as Raphael had mentioned, the Dark One blood she'd given David had countered their attempts to heal him. All of the wounds seeped blood and infection, pervading the room with a sickly smell. The remains of his wings, those jagged ends of bones, rested in a listless pile behind him.

Because of the wounds, the bed was stained and damp. At her accusing glance, Raphael shook his head. "I could have suspended him in the air, and we do sometimes, though he prefers the bed. But he can't bear bandages. I cleanse the linens each time I enter the room, but we can't stop the running of the fluids. He will not die, but it is a horrible way to live."

All this in a low voice, so it wouldn't carry to the patient. She nodded, swallowing. Moving forward, she circled the bed. As she did, she laid one hand on his bare foot where it extended out from the loose sheet at the end.

His head shifted, and then she saw him turn his face down to the end of the bed toward her, as if he could see.

He was so pale, gaunt. Somehow seeing how horrible he looked now with the wounds cleaned was worse than when he'd been lying on the ground, torn and bloodied. For this was it. There was no chance it was better than she'd feared. Goddess. She put a hand to her mouth. She'd done this to him. They'd done this to him.

Somehow, she was back at the door, leaning against it, her fingers digging into the frame. Unnoticed, the Citadel trembled on its magical foundation, as the anger surged up on her. There were still some Dark Ones left in that world. She would go back through the portal, and she would turn it into a barren landscape, devoid of life for the next million years, until some bare cellular form of life would dare to evolve, instead of a form of life that never should have been.

And would she incinerate herself as well? This was her doing.

"My Lady." Raphael's soft voice, and though it was an unexpected title, Mina's head came up, her red eyes meeting his. "He spoke to you," he added carefully.

Mina turned back toward the bed. David had shifted, his hand seeking something on the table they'd put next to him. A cloth... a sash. As she watched, he fumbled, trying to put it over his empty eyes.

"No." She was back by the bed in an instant, her hands settling on his wrists. The feel of the abraded but warm flesh made her throat thick with tears. "No. It will hurt."

"It hurts you to look at me." His voice was rasping. The damage they'd done to his mouth and tongue, she knew.

"Yes, it does. It should. Leave it."

She shifted her grip to his hands, the one perfect, the one with no fingers, and she noted the irony that her perfect hand was her right, his the left, so they could interlace the fingers of those two hands when facing each other, while she simply curved her three fingers over the square, fingerless palm of the other.

"Where have you been?" he asked. No recrimination, though she'd essentially been in her cave, uselessly brooding, while he'd been here, suffering like this. Of course, he hadn't been alone. The fact Jonah and Raphael were both present said they'd been keeping close watch on the young angel. The fresh flowers resting in a vase said Anna had been here. Everyone but the one for whom he'd sacrificed himself.

No, I will never be good. And she felt no amusement at the thought this time.

She sat down on the edge of the bed at his hip when he pulled her down beside him. His fingers, so strong and capable, as clever with a woman's body as he was with a weapon, were bony, with a sickly tremor.

"We've talked about ending this," he said conversationally.

"What?"

He stroked her fingers. Gods, soothing her. "They can't fix it. And I'm no good to anyone like this. It might be what's best."

"No."

"So you'd miss me, then?" He attempted a smile with his damaged mouth, but then it died. "I can't live like this, Mina. I have to serve a purpose. I-"

She'd been looking at his face, remembering the patient brown eyes, seeing his mouth curved in a true smile, or a resolute line. Not a mouth drawn taut and hard against pain, the grooves of stress so much like old age that no angel had. The ache in her throat was becoming excruciating, and she followed the need of it, leaned forward and put her mouth on his.

Sickness made his taste fetid, but she didn't care. She put her hands against his nearly bare skull, resting as lightly as possible on the burns and bite marks there. As she kissed him, her arms slid around him, holding him as close to her as she could, while his hands slipped to her waist. He was weak, so she drifted down so she was lying next to him, her calf trapped between his ankles, her face tilted up to him.

She put everything into the kiss she couldn't put into words, wishing for him, wanting him.

"I can't." She pulled away abruptly, sitting up and drawing away. "Damn it, I want to, but I can't, all right?"

"Can't what?" Frown lines marked his forehead. "Mina, what... I'm repulsive to you."

"Oh, don't be an idiot," she snapped, and missed the easing of his features, the hint of an almost smile that registered with a startled Raphael. "I can't give you up. I know I should, know that's what's best. I don't know what love is. I can't love you back and you have all this love to give. All I can do is need you. I need you to make it worth it to keep the Dark Blood balanced in me, to teach me what a sense of humor is, because I think it would really help. I want your body, too." She glared at him. "And I'm glaring at you, by the way."

"I can hear it in your voice," he said cautiously. "But I don't know how-"

"I need you to heal my scars. My fingers. Right now."

David's brows, what was left of them, rose. "You lost me." He worked himself upright, his color draining such that Raphael moved forward to help. Jonah was there, too, apparently having appeared during her outburst. "You said you didn't want that."

"I didn't want a lot of things. I didn't want you disrupting my life with your hands and mouth and smile and making me feel like I could feel happiness and not be overwhelmed by darkness. But you did." She drew another deep breath, braced herself. "So now I need you to heal me, as we both know you can."

"Make him drain his energy so you can be pretty again? Is it worth the risk-" Raphael started, anger suffusing his expression.

"I don't want it," she snarled. "Do you know what beauty can do? How much power it can hold? Don't I have enough to handle as it is? Look at all of you, the way you affect anyone who sees you. Do I fucking look like I need more power to control?"

"Sshh..." David had caught her hand as she jumped up, and he somehow managed to give her enough of a yank to topple her back down beside him. "Sssh. Easy."

She stopped, her breath rasping in her throat. It was then she realized the misty tile floor had become crimson as her temper built, her panic. She let the power ease out of her fingers, let the warm, electrical furor of it seep from the room.

"It's like I'm standing under this tidal wave all the time, trying to figure out which direction to make the water go so it doesn't drown me or anyone else." She shook her head. "It doesn't... I'm not saying you have to take on that responsibility. That's your choice, whether this works or not. I just... I can't bear seeing you this w

ay."

"Mina, slow down." His fingers pressed into hers. "What are you talking about?"

"As you heal me, I think I can help heal you at the same time. I'm not sure, but it's worth the risk." She reached out, ran a quick, unsteady hand down the side of his jaw. "I'll do anything to make you what you were when I first saw you. Whole, beautiful. Perfect."

"I'm afraid the 'whole' part only happened when you came along and let me love you."