the demon retreated to the darkness of his soul. Stumbling against the wall, he slid down, his legs sprawling across the hardwood floor.
“That was misery,” he muttered, gripping his hair and pulling. “Hell.” His body shaking, he wrapped his arms across his chest, drawing up his legs. “I’m not sure I can fight them much longer. It’s draining me.”
Vika’s heart went out to him. Never had she seen him so vulnerable. And yet Grief had voiced his heartache. She drew him into her arms and kissed his head. “It will be better, cushlamocree.”
“That word. You said it to me once before. What does it mean?”
“I think it’s Irish. My mother used it when we sisters were sad or frightened. It calmed us.”
He nodded. “I could feel my soul crumbling every moment the demon held reign. My parents...they were tortured by a mistake they made. I can’t explain it completely. Yet you led me toward the light. Thank you.”
“You thank me far too much, witch. Just doing what had to be done. I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through, but if I can soften the pain, I will.”
“You do.”
“Let’s get up and make you some tea.”
“Just give me a moment to enact a spell.” He reached to his left biceps and tapped one of the tattooed boxes, muttering the Latin spell for—Vika recognized it—peace and relaxation. Sort of like an aspirin spell. With a sigh, he propped his elbows on his bent knees. “Better.”
“How many left inside you?”
“As far as I can determine? War, Grief and Pain.”
“Now that’s a festive bunch.”
He laughed and took her offered hand and stood. “How’s your sister and the comatose soul bringer?”
“Holding vigil. I figured I could slip out for a bit. You had something you were going to tell me?”
“I do. And now that Grief has brought it up, I can no longer avoid the confession. Let’s brew some peppermint tea for an open mind and truth.”
* * *
The soul bringer suddenly sat upright. Libby scrambled up from the floor, where she’d been perusing the compendium. “Reichardt? Are you okay?”
“O...kay?” He nodded, looking around, taking in the living room surroundings, from the gleaming crystal chandelier to the white leather sofa and glass coffee table adorned with fresh daisies from the garden. “I landed here?”
“Yes, in our kitchen, actually. You freaked me out because you fell from out of nowhere. What happened?”
“Where is Viktorie St. Charles?”
“She’s with CJ. Why? What’s wrong? I don’t understand what happened, Reichardt.”
She wanted to pull him into a hug and smother him with kisses. He was back! But, much as her fingers slid closer to his hand, Libby knew better than to press the man with effusive displays of affection.
Reichardt rubbed his brow. His jaw muscle pulsed in a sexy way that caught her eye. “I was expelled from Above by His Most Highest.”
“What? The Guy?”
“Yes.” He cast his gaze about the room and to his lap, turning his hands over, as if he were still orienting himself. “Here?”
“You’re still wondering why you landed here? Maybe you went the one place you most wanted to be?” she said with hope.
He nodded. It wasn’t exactly an agreement. “During the expulsion I was only thinking to land someplace safe. Interesting.”
“So why were you expelled?”
His kaleidoscope eyes fixed to hers, and Libby gasped as if fixed in the sight of a pistol. “Apparently, I’ve been ferrying tainted souls Above. I had no idea they were tainted. But now I understand. It is Viktorie’s fault.”
“What? No, she—” Libby closed her mouth.
Her sister had been using the souls to chase demons from CJ. And then she’d catch them and give them to Reichardt. Souls tainted by demon exorcism. Oh, great goddess, she could not let Reichardt find Vika.
“You want a cookie?”
* * *
Vika sipped the peppermint tea and then resumed the shoulder massage she’d insisted on giving CJ. He didn’t protest overmuch, and it had been an excuse for him to remove his shirt. Not that she needed an excuse. But also, she wanted to relax him so they could talk. It had seemed he’d something dire to tell her out in the garden earlier. And Grief had intrigued her with hints of the secret. She wanted to make it easy for him now.
Sliding her hands down his back where the largest sak yant tattoo held court, she was surprised to find so much tension knotted in his muscles. And then she was not. While normally a witch was ultra-aware of his or her