“I’m glad you got that. You shouldn’t have to suffer for the things your parents did. But still, there be demons.”
“Indeed.” He stroked her neck, playing with her hair. “What the book said about the ranking of demons. It could serve to our advantage if we have to enact the Night March.”
“I don’t want to think about it, but I know it’s important that we do. I trust you, Certainly Jones.”
Vika yawned and fell asleep, her ear pressed to his chest, the soft rhythm of his heartbeats lulling her to Nod.
Chapter 20
CJ had left at sunrise with a kiss and mention he was heading to his brother’s house.
Libby tended the garden out back, humming the theme from some overhyped love song Vika had heard far too many times on the radio. Her sister was in love, and such emotion manifested in an amazing aura that literally tilted the flower heads toward her as she walked by them. Touching a white rose made the blossom grow thicker, the core of it tinting deep red, and Libby smiled at the result.
Vika, on hands and knees, with rubber gloves and kneepads on, swept the scrub brush over the tile kitchen floor. It was as though she were trying to rub out the soul bringer’s existence as she forced the brush over the places where he had stood holding her sister in a death grip.
“Maybe I’m jealous,” she muttered, and sat back, dropping the brush in the bucket of vinegar and lemon water.
Not a single thing to be jealous over. Besides, she had her own man. As dark and troubled as he was.
She had dived headfirst into this adventure with Certainly, thinking more of the high she’d get from cleaning him up than the real possibility she might actually fall for the guy. And now that she had, life had become remarkable and miserable. She wanted the romance and passion and closeness, but she did not want the demons, dark magic and threats from the soul bringer. Nor did she want to see the world overrun with demons courtesy some macabre Night March.
Would it be wrong to bail from the relationship in hopes to save her sister and herself from Reichardt’s wrath?
“I can’t do that.” She wrapped her gloved hands about her upper arms and leaned against the door frame, Libby’s spectacular communion with the flowers in sight. “I do love him.”
She admired CJ’s intelligence and all the magics he had learned over the years. He was a calm and thoughtful man, despite his obvious inner struggles. He thought of others before himself more often than not, though any man was allowed a few selfish hang-ups, such as a decades-long testosterone-fueled battle against a warlock.
Physically he moved with such ease through the world. Grounded wherever he stood, strong with muscles yet even more powerful with wisdom and magic.
But what she loved most about Certainly Jones was his ability to survive, even when the worst struck.
Love involved more than the romance, passion and closeness. It involved sticking it out through thick and thin, seeing beyond the bad to the light on the other side. Even if that light was obnoxious and glittered madly. She’d never look at a chandelier the same again.
Salamander meowed, but he did not move from the living room doorway, where she had begun scrubbing and the floor was still wet. Wise cat. He’d never been so thoughtful of her hard work while in human form. Some men were born animals, she decided with a smirk.
“My relationships have never been outstanding,” she noted, woefully at a loss over what, if anything, she could ever do to make Sal’s life better. As far as she knew, he was simply a cat now and did not have memories of his mortal life. She hoped.
“But the nun’s life is not for me. Better to have excitement and danger than boring and mellow, yes?”
Salamander looked away, unconcerned with her emotional struggles. An animal through and through.
CJ’s suggestion she convince the war demon to slaughter all the demons raised upon inciting the Nacht März was a clever idea. And she had no doubt the demon was capable. But did she have the courage to stand up to War? Could she influence the demon to do her bidding? She’d withstood Menace, Pain, Lust and even Grief. A little war shouldn’t be so difficult.
With a heavy sigh, she sunk against the door frame. The sky was bright, and she imagined CJ must be out