Anya Bast - Witch Fury

For the last week that’s all he, Claire, Isabelle, and Jack had demanded of her. Theo worked with her self-defense skills, Jack was helping her fine-tune her raw ability with fire, and Claire was teaching her how to use it effectively against demons. Lastly, Isabelle was helping her learn how to use a sword — something she never thought she’d have to do in her life.

God. Not ever .

Every night she collapsed exhausted into her bed and slept like the dead until morning. Every single one of all the muscles she’d never known she’d had ached. She understood the gravity of her situation and she’d been giving her all to each of them. That added up to three hundred percent. She had no more more to give.

She tried not to let the look in his eyes cow her. “I’ll try.” He grunted and rolled off her. “Don’t try, just do it.” She pushed to her feet, wincing at a pain in her back. Being slammed down onto a pad by a muscular man twice her weight wasn’t fun. “Who are you, Yoda?” Annoyance made the words snap out.

“Just because Bai hasn’t been back doesn’t mean he won’t be.” She let her head droop. “I know, I know. Believe me, if he or Stefan ever come back I want to be ready.” She shivered. “I think Stefan scares me even more than Bai.” “Why?”

Sarafina walked over and took a towel from where she’d draped it over a Nautilus machine. They were training in the Coven’s exercise room. “Because he’s a witch. I mean, I would expect a demon to do hideous and terrible things. I can understand that. But Stefan is aeamon , one of us.” Theo uncapped his bottle of water and took a drink. When he’d finished, he put it down and said, “We’re all one, Sarafina. As hard as that may be to understand, the aeamon are a part of the daaeman . We’re born of them. The daaeman are a complicated race, like humans. Some of them are good and some of them are bad. There many shades of gray. You can count on an Atrika being violent and sociopathic. They’re made to be that way. You should count on it to save your skin. But there are accounts of even Atrika falling in love with humans in ancient times. Even they are capable of compassion, apparently.” “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t generalize and you shouldn’t think in terms of us versus them . Basically, there is good in all demons, witches, and warlocks, but there’s bad, too. You can’t live by absolutes and you can’t trust anyone, not even those closest to you.” Sarafina studied him for a long moment. “Do you really believe that? You can’t trust anyone?” He shifted. “Yeah, mostly.”

“I agree with most of what you said, up until the end.” She glanced away. “Wow, I’m sorry.” “Why?” The word dropped like a sharpened blade between them and she fought a wince.

She turned and found his gaze. “I’m sorry that whatever life handed you it was so terrible it taught you that you shouldn’t trust anyone.” He tipped his head to the side a little. “Didn’t it teach you that?” She smiled and shook her head. “No. Oh, I had a rough time of it when I was a kid and the day my mom died was no picnic, but no. There are lots of people in my life I can trust, and I thank the stars every day for each and every one of them.” Just thinking about how blessed she’d been to have Rosemary, not to mention all of her friends, made warmth tingle through her chest.

But Theo’s gaze only grew colder. He looked away from her, at the door. “Let’s knock off for the night. I think you’ve had enough for one day.” She tried not to jump up and down and squeal with excitement. Jumping up and down at this point was out of the question, anyway; she was far too sore. “Sounds good to me. I’d love a long, hot bath and an evening of relaxation.” “If we’re lucky, Bai and Stefan will give it to us.” They gathered their things and headed back to Theo’s apartment. Grosset was lying on the couch when they arrived, looking like a little furry emperor awaiting his evening meal. She collapsed onto the couch next to his happy, squirming body and sighed deeply.

“Speaking of your friends,” said Theo from the kitchen doorway. He was probably going to make more charms. It seemed like all he did was make charms or work out when he wasn’t training her. The man had no capacity for enjoyment, it seemed. “Do you need to contact them? Aren’t they wondering where you are?” She smiled as much as she could under the weight of her fatigue. “I’ve been fielding text messages for the last week. You provided me with the perfect cover. Maria has sung your praises to our entire circle of friends and acquaintances. They all think you’ve taken me away again to help me get over my grief.” If only she really could disappear for a while and nurse the heavy, sad undercurrent of emotion that seemed ever-present since Rosemary’s death. That luxury was denied her.

He nodded. “So in their eyes I’m your boyfriend.” He could’ve used the same tone to say, I’ve been sentenced to be hanged at dawn .

“That’s your fault, dude, not mine.” She let her head fall back against the cushions out of pure fatigue and closed her eyes. She couldn’t even gather enough energy to be offended.

Grosset hopped off the couch and ran into the kitchen, where Theo was clanging pots and pans. She knew he’d feed the little dog and could hear him talking to Grosset in his low, rumbling voice. Eventually, as her exhaustion got the better of her, she heard nothing at all.

She awoke inside a dream. Or at least in the brief interlude between sleep and wakefulness, Sarafina thought she had.

Theo leaned down over her, fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his narrow waist. His skin smelled of soap and the slightest bit of aftershave. His long dark hair lay damp and tangled over his broad shoulders. Her gaze seized on his chest, which was rarely bare despite the amount of training they did every day. The breathtaking expanse of muscular yumminess tapered to a narrow waist just barely covered by the white towel. For a moment she hoped it would slip. And, God, she was dying to ask him about all those scars.

“You fell asleep,” he rumbled, helping her up from the couch. “You’ll wake up sore if you sleep that way on the couch, and we have more training to do in the morning.” She groaned and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “I can’t get any more sore than I already am,” she grumbled and staggered toward the bedroom. Heavy drowsiness confused the signals transmitted from her head to her feet and she stumbled. Theo caught her and steadied her, but not before she fell against all that lickableness. That woke her up a bit.

“Take a shower and get into whatever you sleep in and I’ll give you a massage.” She stumbled again. “A massage?”

“I’m good at them.”

She started to ask who he practiced on. He didn’t seem to have a lot of friends, let alone girlfriends. His life was all about magick, training, and gaining revenge against the Duskoff and demons. But pointing out he had no life was not a good way to treat someone who’d been generous enough to open his home to her, not to mention put himself in front of a demon for her.

Anyway, the thought of having his hands on her made her knees go weak.

“Okay, I won’t turn the offer down. A good massage would make me sleep much better.” They stopped outside the guest room doorway. “Make sure you wear something”—he paused and made a slow sweep of her body with his gaze—“appropriate.” Sarafina scowled at his back as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. Wear something appropriate ? What did he think, that she intended to try and seduce him? Did he think she was planning to light a few candles and slip into a black lace teddy or something?