your wards.”
“Me, too, but so far, it’s worked.”
Vika sighed and shrugged her fingers through her hair. The braid had loosened, and a few remaining yellow roses tumbled down her dress. The day had been long and trying. She’d had to deal with Grief, and Reichardt’s threats, and now this revelation?
“What of the witch’s rede?” she asked. “And ye harm none. Seems what you’ve done is grounds for ostracism to warlock status.” She turned to CJ. “Or would that serve to your advantage? Showing Grim you can do the warlock thing as well as he?”
“No. It’s not like that at all. I’ve not used the thing, nor would I ever. Vika, please, if you’ve learned anything about me is I have a moral compass.”
She lifted her chin. She did know that about him, but it was becoming more difficult to believe it.
“Despite the dark magic I practice, I pride myself in following the rede. I go out of my way to ensure the safety of mortals. Always. I’m sorry.” He winced then let out a soft chuckle. “It seems I’ve been apologizing to you a lot lately. No getting beyond it. But will you let me think about this? There must be a means to work this out. I won’t let the soul bringer near you or your sister.”
“What if you’ve no choice? What if it comes down to hour number forty-eight and you haven’t solved the problem? I don’t know, CJ.”
“You don’t trust I can handle this.”
“I didn’t say that, I just...” She didn’t trust he could handle this. And she did. But truly, he couldn’t bring the thing to Daemonia only to again risk Grim getting his hands on it. “Maybe we could get Reichardt to scrub you of the demons? If we insist you can’t work the Night March spell properly while occupied by them?”
“Why do you always think of me, Vika?”
“Because I want you whole. To be free of the demons.”
“I love you for that. But I think I want to keep the remaining two. I might be able to use them. How, I’m not yet sure. If I can bring up the war demon...”
She swung a condemning look at CJ.
“Would you talk to War?” he posited. “The demon might be our only hope. It’s the strongest one inside me. I imagine he wouldn’t mind waging a war against a few thousand demons.”
“That’s...” A strangely good idea. And not. That would mean actually calling the demons to walk the earth. So risky. Anything could go wrong. “That would mean I’d have to talk to War while he’s in control of your body. I don’t know if I can do that. You were so angry with me when I spoke to Want.”
“This would be different. And I sure as hell am not asking you to have sex with War. It was just a thought. I think it should be a last resort.”
“What about asking Grim for help?”
CJ stiffened defensively.
“Just a suggestion,” she said, and glanced upstairs where Libby had retreated to her bedroom. No doubt about it, whatever they planned, it would be a slippery situation. “Let’s think on this then. I need more tea. I’ve had a long day. Come on, I’ll brew you a cup.”
Her lover pointed upward. The chandelier was his lifeline.
“Right. And I’m not ready to talk to War or even Pain. I’ll bring it out to you.”
* * *
With a stiff scrub brush, Vika swirled the organic green cleanser around inside the porcelain toilet bowl. It was past midnight, but she couldn’t sleep. Cleaning usually relaxed her, but she foresaw heading to the downstairs bathroom next because after polishing the mirror, scouring the tub and wiping down the vanity, she still hadn’t found peace.
A sigh behind her indicated Libby stood in the open doorway. “I just scrubbed that one yesterday.”
She had, and it hadn’t needed a repeat scrubbing so soon, but it was a means of avoidance.
“So,” her sister said on a sleepy tone, “you’d rather scrub toilets than be with your boyfriend downstairs?”
CJ had pulled the easy chair directly beneath the chandelier and had bunkered down for the night. Using the excuse she was tired after tea, Vika had left him with little more than a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s complicated,” she said, setting the brush in the tub to rinse. “And I’m mad at him. Sort of.” She blew out a surrendering sigh. “Why can’t I be angry with him? I want to be. Shouldn’t I be? It’s like, if I