Anya Bast - Witch Heart

He'd just been unbuttoning his shirt when he'd heard the gunshot.

The rage running through him, hot and thick, had been nothing he could control when he'd raced downstairs to find Eliza lying in a pool of her own blood.

He hadn't hesitated, not for a moment. He'd raised power and blasted it at the middle-aged, scruffy-looking thief. He'd been a warlock with earth abilities. Later he'd found out that the warlock had targeted his house specifically; he'd been targeting lots of witches around Chicago, breaking into their houses. He'd already killed three people.

Adam hadn't known all that at the time, though. All he'd seen was a strung-out low-life warlock who'd just shot his wife and didn't look a fucking bit upset about it.

Adam's fire magick had risen unbidden. He'd been out of control, his rage perfect. The warlock had tried to raise power, but Adam had been ten times stronger and faster with his abilities. He'd burned him alive where he stood. A flash of white-hot flame, then just a charred thing on the carpet, smoke curling up in lazy tendrils.

Ashes to ashes.

Once it had been done, Adam had lifted Eliza in his arms and she'd died. The memory still choked him up.

Since Adam had reached for magick instead of his gun, dealing with the aftermath had been a problem. The killing had been in self-defense, since the thief had had his gun pointed at him. But how would he explain the charred remains to the authorities?

Adam had called the Coven and they'd helped him conceal the nature of the killing. They'd helped him dispose of the body, clean up the mess in his house, all of it.

He'd told the police the burglar had gotten away.

Wracked by grief for Eliza, Adam had quit the force the next day and gone to work for the Coven. Thomas Monahan had earned his complete devotion from that day forward, and the Coven had gained themselves a loyal and skilled hunter, someone who tracked down warlocks and dealt with them.

"It happened in the middle of the night. I was just off shift. I had my uniform on for fuck's sake. I had my gun." He let his voice trail off. "But I was too late. She went downstairs to get a bottle of water. I heard the gunshot. By the time I got there, she was on the floor. She died in my arms."

Claire's hand was on his back. She'd probably put it there a while ago, but he only noticed it now. It was warm. The heat of her palm bled though the fabric of his shirt and branded his skin. The touch of her comforted him.

"What happened to the thief?" she asked softly.

Adam spread his hands. "I burned him, burned him practically to ash."

"Your wife wasn't aeamon ?"

He shook his head. "As human as human could be. She knew about me, though. About us. I could never keep any secrets from her."

Claire was silent for a long time. Finally, she asked, "Do you still love her?"

He looked at her. "Not like that. I'm not in love with a dead woman, Claire. She's gone and I know that. I've grieved her and moved on, but I feel in debt to her. I was responsible for her death." He swore low. "I was there! There with my gun, there with my fire. I was in the house and she still died. I was a fucking cop and the burglar still got her right under my nose."

"Adam—"

"So, I'm sure that makes you feel really safe with me, Claire. Considering I'm supposed to be protecting you and I couldn't even keep my own wife from being shot in our home."

She shook her head. "Adam, I do feel safe with you. Sometimes bad things just happen. Sometimes—"

He shook his head and yanked away from her. "No, don't tell me not to feel responsible, Claire. Damn it. I get the stages of grieving and all the psycho-babble. It still doesn't change how I feel."

"Okay." She paused, pressed her lips together. "But I do trust you Adam. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone."

He shook his head. Poor woman. "You're one of the few people other than Thomas who knows any of this."

"I won't tell anyone."

He studied her sitting there with the blankets drawn up around her body. Adam wanted to hold her, needed to hold her. Needed her warmth and her closeness in a way he couldn't remember needing a woman for a long time. He wanted her skin to skin, but that wasn't wise.

"Get dressed, Claire. Just in case. Theo said he'd take first watch, so let's try and get some sleep, okay?"

She nodded.

"Even put on your boots." He'd bought her some good steel-toed ass-kicking boots because sometimes magick wasn't enough.

He watched her dress, repressing his very strong desire to pick her up, sling her over his shoulder and kidnap her. Take her somewhere far away and lock her there, so that he and Theo would be able to fight the demons themselves and she would stay safe.

Adam's jaw locked. Somewhere between then and now Claire had become his to protect, to shield, to care for. Every protective male fiber of his body fought the temptation to simply drag her off by her hair to a cave somewhere so she'd be safe.

The problem with that was three-fold. First, Claire was stronger than either of them, so to handicap themselves in battle that way was sort of silly. Second, Claire would never allow him to protect her in that way and she would probably kick his butt royally if he tried. Third, it would just be wrong. Claire's future was at stake; she deserved control over it.

But it was fucking hard to deny that caveman part of him.

After she'd dressed — a pity — he lit a fire in the fireplace, flipped off the light, and lay down with her on the bed. The blaze in the hearth made shadows lick the walls of the room and filled the space with a warm glow.

Even though he'd just had psychological and emotional shit stirred up, and even though they were waiting for two killer demons to come knocking on their door, Adam couldn't help but notice the serenity that stole over him as soon as Claire was in his arms.

She fit there perfectly. Head tucked under his chin, arms around his chest, one long, slim leg resting in between his. Even their breathing meshed.

Adam let out a slow, uneasy breath. The problem staring him in the face was ugly. He'd failed to protect Eliza. Eliza had died.

His arms tightened around Claire. No way in fucking hell or Eudae. would he fail twice.

They came in the early morning.

Claire sat straight up in bed. Adam was already at the door, wicked-looking copper sword in hand. Every nerve in her body seemed to flare to life in an odd psychic awareness. Deep within her, the elium throbbed, making nausea burn bitter on the back of her tongue.

They were here. They were angry.

Adam threw the door open to find Theo already going head-to-head with Tevan and Kai. Earth magick pulsed the way she'd taught him to use on the daaeman —with a little twist and a whole lot of punch. Fire magick burned subtly across her skin as Adam drew power.

Claire threw the blankets away and tucked a copper dagger into the waistband of her jeans at the back. Then she rushed after Adam, raising her own elemental magick to join theirs.

As soon as she cleared the threshold, she sent the room into chaos, leaving clear an area around Adam and Theo. Furniture flew, dishes crashed.

The Atrika stood at the doorway. They'd just strolled right in, it appeared. While she kept them busy knocking away the projectiles she sent toward them, Adam and Theo lobbed earth charms made to pummel and bolts of fire at them.

Kai bellowed as Theo found a way through his shields and hit his stomach with a bolt of earth magick so strong it made her nostrils tingle with the scent of dry ground. The Atrika turned and screamed at her, eyes bloodred and fangs extended. "Come with us and we will not make the male aeamon suffer."

"Fuck you!" yelled Adam. "You're going to have to kill us both to get to her."