An American Witch In Paris. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
a pentagram inside a circle, Tuesday closed her eyes and spread her arms wide. She chanted words that Ethan would never try to decipher. Witch words. Dangerous words. Yet he could feel them forming sentences in his veins, warning that she could take him out if he dropped his guard.
With a snap of her fingers, the salt suddenly illuminated and jittered on the floor, moving, ordering and aligning. The tiny grains jumped and crackled. The scent of salt tinged the air. And when it settled and continued to glow, Tuesday sat back on her heels, hands propped on each thigh.
“A map of Paris,” she said with a gesture over the salt. “What do you think?”
Ethan leaned over to inspect the map. It included both the right and left bank, and the Seine and the main island. It even showed faint demarcations for the twenty arrondissements. “You’ve dazzled me, witch. Now where are all the demons? Or just the one in particular?”
“That requires more intense chanting. And an elemental callout. You stay there. Don’t move, because I don’t want the bond between us to tug me out of concentration. Deal?”
“I am a captive audience.”
She looked at him a moment, and he couldn’t decide if she thought she was peering into an idiot’s eyes or, in fact, seeing beyond his irises and into his very soul. He’d witnessed it when she’d peered into Certainly Jones’s soul. Was it a skill they could only perform on other witches? Or need he worry, too?
“What?” he finally asked.
“There’s something about you, Ethan Pierce. Something that keeps me from stabbing you through the heart with this athame.” She twirled the knife she’d bought from the store. The hilt looked to be carved from opal. That was why the bill had registered in the hundreds of euros. “I’m not sure what that is, though, so I’m going to keep the blade close.”
“Whatever works for you. You couldn’t harm me if you tried.”
“Probably not. But you are racking up the points against you for when the bond is lifted. Know that.”
“I’m not afraid of a witch.”
Her head tilted and her gaze narrowed as she said simply, “You should be.”
And Ethan realized she was right. But he wouldn’t show his anxiety.
Casting her focus over the salt map, she moved up on her knees, spread out her arms and began to chant.
* * *
Tuesday felt the presence of every demon inhabiting the city prick at her skin. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t painful, either. Rather a sort of vehement and inner knowing. The elemental spell had been successful. She opened her eyes and looked over the map.
Ethan kneeled on the opposite side of the map and scanned the results as well. “What are all the glowing red salt crystals?”
“Demons,” she said.
“There’s so many. Thousands.”
“Are you surprised?”
“No. But how is this going to help our search?”
“Hold your horses, big boy. The real magic comes next.”
Tugging loose the ribbon ties at the bodice of her new shirt, Tuesday tossed the obsidian crystal over her shoulder and then pressed her fingers against the sigil between her breasts. She lowered her other hand over the map, moving methodically as she silently thought Gazariel’s name. The sigil warmed and she could feel the tendrils of it creep through her chest and toward her extremities. It noticed her.
And that was not a good thing.
Wanting to abruptly end the spell, she suddenly noted the violet glow at one edge of the map. “There! Where is that?”
Ethan turned his head to assess the map. “Looks like the Bois de Boulogne. A big, forested park at the edge of the city. Is that purple spot The Beautiful One?”
“It is. And now I’m cutting the connection before he catches on.”
“Wait!”
Tuesday pulled her fingers from the sigil. The violet light snuffed out.
“If you would have held on longer, I could have marked the exact location,” Ethan protested. “That would have made our job easier. Are you helping me or hindering me, witch?”
“What do you think I’m doing? You think I enjoy being your captive? I want this over as quickly as possible. But I will not call the demon directly to me. He could manifest within me. And then what will you do?”
“That can happen?”
“It’s likely. But remember what Edamite said. If he’s smart he’s not going to come near me. And he is.”
“Sorry. I, uh... I don’t intend to place you in harm’s way. I just want to utilize your expertise.”
“And this, eh?” She tapped the sigil.
“Can I take a look at that?”
She studied his curious gaze. He wasn’t aware that a childlike wonder could overtake his normally serious expression. Nor could he be aware how much that relaxation of his outer shield attracted her. Because it made him everything he probably didn’t want to be—soft, kind, accepting.
Tuesday nodded her consent.
Ethan reached over and pressed two fingers to the sigil. It was an intimate touch and her skin warmed. Her breasts hugged his knuckles. He flicked his wondrous gaze onto hers.
“I can feel your fear,” he said. “I don’t want you to be afraid. I will protect you.”
Tuesday wrapped her fingers about his wrist, holding him there at her breast. “There’s nothing a vampire can do to protect me that I can’t already do myself. You’re going to have to make a better plea for my continuing to work with you than that.”
“All right. How about this?”
And with that, he slid over the salt map, smearing the left bank of Paris, and cupped the back of her head as he pulled her in for another sudden kiss.
His mouth warmed against hers and demanded she not ignore him. That she allow him to protect her. And at the same time, it teased her to submit in a way she generally didn’t care to with a man. It was the surprise of their connection, their easy manner of locking lips, that excited her, and made her want to not break it.
On her knees, Tuesday scooched closer. He slipped one hand down her hair and clasped his fingers into it, easing her forward, into his arms. Into his interesting acceptance. She’d thought he didn’t like witches. So why was he kissing her?
Did it matter? Not in this moment. She wanted to taste every sensual, hot bit of him. Inhale his cool, fresh-air scent, and every breath that he greedily gave and took from her. Moaning into his mouth, she grabbed at his shirt and straddled his legs with hers. They kneeled there on the scattered remains of the city map, a strange fusion of opposites who couldn’t resist the pull to experience one another.
And when he put his hand again on the sigil, she moved his fingers to cup her breast. She hugged up against him, giving him permission to touch her, wanting to own the vampire’s desire... To control him as he sought to control her.
Ethan broke the kiss and pulled his hand abruptly from her skin. “Uh...”
Appearing befuddled, he probably wasn’t sure why he’d kissed her. And had manhandled her boob. So she wouldn’t let him consider it too long. Because if she had to use normal skills instead of magic to control him, it was best to keep him unsure and wondering.
“Feel like a walk in the park?” she asked.
“Sure. I um...”
She stood and knotted the ties of her shirt into a bow. “Then let’s get to it before I shove you down and have some hex with you.”