Witch Blood - By Anya Bast Page 0,114
escaped. I had help on the inside, a woman named Claire. She slipped me extra food, treated my wounds, gave me charms to make me seem more injured and sick than I was, taught me—”
“Taught you?”
“She had earth magick like I’ve never felt before. Strange and powerful. She taught me how to use my magick against the demons. With her help, I gained enough strength that I broke myself out. It was dicey getting from the cell to the doorway, but we managed to get through all the obstacles in our path.”
“Who was she?”
“I don’t really know. I could never get her to say much to me. I don’t know why she was there or how she got there in the first place. At the end, I tried to get her to come with me, but she refused.”
“She wanted to stay?”
“I don’t think so, Isabelle. I don’t think she felt like she had a choice for some reason.”
Poor woman. Isabelle would forever be in her debt. She thought about their research on opening another doorway. Maybe she could repay this woman for what she’d done.
She dropped her head to his shoulder and held onto him like she was drowning. “I can’t believe you’re back.”
He brushed his fingers through her hair. “It was the thought of you that sustained me while I was there.”
She raised her head. “I’m glad the thought of me got you through hell and back, but you shouldn’t have done what you did.”
He shook his head. “Not even another word.” His voice had an edge of steel to it. “When I saw an opportunity to free you, I took it.”
She pushed away from him a little. “Thomas, you never stop—”
He dragged her up against him and she angled her head to brush his lips. The taste and feel of his mouth was like sunshine on her skin after a year of constant night. “Don’t pull away from me,” he whispered. “Not ever.”
She smiled against his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
THOMAS SLIPPED HIS HAND TO ISABELLE’S WAIST, reveling in the warmth of her skin radiating through the fabric of her shirt and into his palm.
“You need to see the doctor,” she murmured into his neck.
His arms tightened around her. “I am seeing my doctor.”
She raised her head. “I’m serious, Thomas.”
He touched her cheek. “So am I. Look, I’ll be fine. I just want to spend some time with you now. The doctor and the rest of the Coven have me tomorrow. I want to be yours tonight.”
She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Mine tonight? Baby, you’re mine forever.”
“Then let’s go upstairs. I need a good bath and then I need you.”
“Healing waters I can do. Stay here a moment and give me a head start.” She leaned up and kissed him tenderly. He closed his eyes at the sweet pressure of her mouth on his, his body going tight as a bowstring with the need to be one with her. She broke the kiss with a slow groan and murmured, “I’ll see you upstairs.”
When he opened his eyes, she was gone. For a moment he saw the inside of his prison cell in his mind’s eye. He heard the drip, drip, drip of the water. Smelled blood and demon magick. For a heartbeat he wondered if this was just another dream, one of many he’d had in the dark of night while he’d been tucked away in a place somewhere between here and there. Then the library came into focus and he sighed in relief.
He stepped forward, sifting through the papers that Isabelle had been leaning over. Apparently, they’d been trying to find a way to get back to Eudae and break him free. He let his fingertips rest on the texts, his thoughts straying to Claire and how wistfully she’d looked at the doorway while absolutely refusing to step through. Isabelle looked exhausted. Apparently, she’d been working nonstop, but maybe their labor hadn’t been in vain.
Those were serious considerations for tomorrow. Tonight he just wanted the woman he loved.
Thomas made his way upstairs to his room to find she’d left the door open a crack for him. He pushed it the rest of the way, stepped inside, and breathed in the familiar scent of his Coven apartment. Nothing except Isabelle had ever smelled so good. Steam rolled from the bathroom doorway.
He walked into the puff of the steam, then stopped short just inside to take in the best sight he could imagine—Isabelle naked in