Page 70 of Rogue Witch

“Blade.”

Silence follows and I fear she won’t open the door. I flatten a palm against the metal. The light pad of feet on the wooden floor approaches the door. An instant later, the lock disengages and I pull my hand away as the door swings open. Leilah has changed from the leather pants and shirt and now wears white socks, sweatpants, and a long sleeve white shirt with no bra.

“Can I come in?” I ask.

She shrugs and starts back into the room. I push the door closed, then take two quick steps and pull her into a hug. She stiffens, and I expect her to resist. To my surprise, she melts against me and begins to cry softly. I lift her into my arms and cross to the bed. I’m surprised to find that her familiar is absent, and lay Leilah on the bed. I strip off my jacket, toss it onto the desk, and crawl in beside her. She curls into my arms and I hold her close, stroking her hair and making shushing noises.

Raith was wrong to send her to her room alone. I was a fool for not coming directly to her. Her experience in the Reaping has traumatized her—as is the case with all the students. Just the few snippets I gleaned when the students were talking in hushed voices on the walk to the auditorium told of the different—and even somewhat conflicting—experiences. That’s what the Reaping does, taps into a person’s fears.

What trigged the bloody Reaping? I badly want to take Olympia to task for creating the Virtual War Games but can’t. No one can, at least not yet, and she knows it. I know in my bones her virtual world is responsible for trigging the Reaping. She knows that, too. I take a slow, deep breath. Now is not the time to get angry. Leilah needs comfort, not conflict.

At last, her tears cease and the slight rise and fall of her chest tells me she’s fallen asleep. Too much time has passed since I held her in my arms while she slept, and I want to cry with relief that she’s finally back with me…with us. She has returned and we’ve all been drawn to her as we always are. She survived the Reaping. Now we can protect her.

Fear tightens my chest when I recall Caleb’s recounting of his and Leilah’s experiences in the Reaping. She protected Jonas, saved a dozen students from falling into a crevasse, and saved Ariel, the vicious bitch, and Chelsea—though the girl doesn’t deserve Leilah’s protection. Why did Chelsea try to kill her—twice? Did Leilah know her before The Academy? Doubtful. Not that Leilah would tell us, but I get the impression that she has no friend or acquaintance at The Academy. I knew Leilah would encounter some opposition here—she’s Miriam Crowe’s granddaughter, after all—but I can’t imagine any of the students wanting to kill her.

Fury roils in my chest. Chelsea might be young, but she knew exactly what she was doing. No one gets away with trying to kill any of our students.

I take a deep breath to slow my heart and hold Leilah just a little tighter. We’ll discover Chelsea’s reasons for wanting to kill her. A terrifying thought hits. Does Chelsea know Leilah from a past life? I remember during the Salem witch trials, a witch who swore she knew Ciarah before even we met her in Persia. The witch had denounced her as a dark witch, and others who heard turned the gossip into an even darker accusation; a witch who practiced Shadow magic.

Part of me wants to race to the room where Chelsea is being held to demand answers, but I’m not quite ready to leave Leilah. Caleb and Matthias have returned, which means there will be less time alone with her. I grimace. She now knows that Caleb is another man in her life. What will she do when Matthias reveals himself?

I think back to her last lifetime as Nova. That girl loved the attention of five sought-after men. Nova had been childish; in some ways, maybe even a little cruel—the perfect match for a vampire—but she wouldn’t have allowed anyone to hurt us. I still haven’t figured out why she stabbed Raith and left him in the alley, but I know she believed she had good reason.

Leilah stirs. If she wakes, I fear she will ask me to leave. Twilight has fallen and the room lays in shadow. I love this time of night when the night creatures are stirring.

Leilah is so different from previous incarnations. She’s always been strong and sexy as hell. She usually knew who she was and often used the knowledge to her advantage. I didn’t mind. In this lifetime, she’s almost more…human than witch. Oh, she’s a powerful witch. I’m still stunned at the story of how she lifted all the students out of the crevasse—and in a lucid dream. Ethan and Raith studied for five years to prepare for the lucid dreaming battle with The Shadows. But her power isn’t what caught my attention, but her attitude and manner. She’s more…down to earth than I’ve ever known her to be. I want to laugh. I doubt Raith would agree.

Leilah breathes deeply and I realize she’s waking. My heart sinks. She slides an arm around my neck. I freeze when she nuzzles my ear. He warm mouth closes over my lobe and she gently bites my lobe. My cock jumps to attention. I want her so badly it hurts. I know what this is about, however. The Reaping has changed her, and she needs comfort, to reaffirm life.

“Leilah,” I whisper.

She pulls the tie from my hair, then slides her fingers into my hair and tugs. This is a move that seems to follow her from lifetime to lifetime and I love it.

I resist the compulsion to yank her against me, and instead whisper, “Sweetness.”

She whispers, “If you didn’t want me, you shouldn’t have gotten into bed with me.”

I give a strangled laugh. “I never said I didn’t want you.”

“Do you hate me?”

“Hate you?” I pull back. Fae sight is excellent in the dark. She stares, eyes intent. I smooth back her hair. “Love, I’m in bed with you. Where you’re concerned, hate is not a word that exists in my vocabulary.”

“I would understand,” she says.

Something her voice sounds a distant warning bell inside my head. “Why would I hate you?” I ask carefully.

She gives a low laugh, then throws a leg over my abdomen, pressing in the most wonderful way against my cock. Has Ethan made love to her, already? The dragon isn’t one to kiss and tell. But he is one to kiss, given the opportunity. Why not comfort her, if that’s what she needs? I roll on top of Leilah. Her soft curves mold to my hard planes.

I stare down at her. “I would think by now that my feelings would be clear.”

She startles me by tracing a finger along my cheek, then my mouth. I press my lips against her fingers and close my eyes for an instant, as she slides her hand around my neck and pulls my mouth down to hers. I have never been able to resist Ciarah. The moment her mouth touches mine, desire rockets through me. She tastes sweet and a little like cinnamon. I love her and, whether she knows it yet or not, she loves me.

Still….

I break the kiss. “Are you sure?”

Her answer is to wrap her legs around my hips and undulate her mons against my cock. Need further hardens my erection in pleasurable torture. I hiss through my teeth. I think I am hungrier for her than ever before. I rock against her and the compulsion to climax nearly overwhelms me.