Possessing the Witch

The man in the backseat moaned. He’d lost a lot of blood and from the looks of him, had gone into the river, a very unsanitary place. If he didn’t die of exposure, the bacteria from the river water might kill him.

“Could you hurry?” Selene urged.

Deme shook her head, but the SUV’s speed picked up. A red light ahead made her slow the vehicle enough to look both ways before blowing through.

In what seemed like an interminable amount of time, but had been less than ten minutes, Deme pulled up in front of Selene’s shop.

“We’re here, now what?” Deme cast a glance into the backseat, where the man lay semicomatose. “How are we going to get him in the basement? Assuming I agree to this plan of yours.”

Selene bit her lip. “I don’t know. But we have to.”

Deme reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “Cal can be here in fifteen.”

“No.” Selene put her hand over Deme’s phone. “I’d rather we kept this to just you and me.”

“What? You and me carrying a large unconscious man into your basement apartment?”

Selene nodded. “Yes. And I don’t want Cal to know that he’s even here. I don’t want anyone else to know. Not even Gina and Aurai. Especially not Brigid.”

“We’re your sisters. Why keep it from us? Look, just let me take him to the hospital. Let them handle him. They have big strong burly orderlies that—”

“No.” A deep voice cut into Deme’s words. The back door to the vehicle opened and the man got out.

Selene ripped her door open, but not in time.

One second he was holding on to the door, the next he’d crumpled to the ground.

Her heart beating hard against her ribs, Selene dropped to her knees. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t need your help,” he said.

Deme stood over them both, her fists planted on her hips. “Like hell you don’t.”

“I won’t go to a...” He lay still with his eyes closed, his breathing shallow, almost nonexistent.

Selene slid one of his arms around her neck. “Help me get him up.”

Deme sighed. “Stubborn witch.”

Selene’s lips twitched. “Shut up and get his other side.”

Deme lifted his arm to drape over her shoulder, but as soon as she moved it, he jerked, growling like a rabid animal, his teeth peeled back over sharp incisors. With her head down to get the arm over her shoulder, Deme didn’t see the pointed fangs.

But Selene did. Her stomach flip-flopped and she ducked her head to avoid Deme’s gaze. “Just get an arm around his waist and help me haul him to the stairs.” To him she said, “Could you manage to stay with us long enough to help yourself down a flight of stairs?”

“Must get below,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s where we’re going, just help us get you there.” Selene glanced across at her sister. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.” Deme’s arm tightened around his waist.

Selene stepped forward at the same time as Deme.

The man between them lurched and stiffened, then a low rumble rose in his chest.

“Either stop growling, or I’ll drop you here and leave you on the pavement,” Selene threatened, her voice sharp, her back straining under his weight.

“You go, sister.” Deme grunted, easing toward the building and the next hurdle. The steps.

The rumbling abated, but his grip tightened around Selene. He snorted. “And I thought you were an angel come to rescue me.”

Deme laughed out loud.

Selene shot an angry glare at her before she responded. “Hardly. I’ll be your worst nightmare before this night is over.” She shuddered thinking of how she needed to clean his wound and how painful it would be for him. She guessed he wouldn’t like it in the least.

When they reached the narrow stairs leading down into the basement apartment of the shop, Deme laid the man’s hand on the rail and moved down the steps in front of him. “The stairs aren’t wide enough for three. You’ll have to help yourself down the stairs, big guy.”

The man groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, the hand on the rail turning white with the strength of his grip.

Selene turned his face toward her and tried to probe his mind.

His chaotic thoughts were a jumble of pain, darkness and overwhelming sadness.

Unable to bear the ache and sorrow, Selene jerked out of his head and swayed.

“What is it?” Deme asked.

“Nothing. I just can’t read his mind.” She could sense emotions and pain, but not thoughts or words. She’d have to use other means to get through to him. “Listen, mister, if you want to get off the street and lie down, you have to help me get you down these stairs. Do you hear me?”

He moaned and leaned heavily on her.

“Wake up.” She shook his good shoulder. “I need your help.”

“No angel,” he muttered, his eyes opening.

“I’ll be the devil himself if that’s what it takes to get you down those steps. Now, move!”

Deme chuckled. “Didn’t know you had it in you, sis. Sure you don’t want me to get him down here? I’m bigger than you are.”

“I got him.” Selene fished in her pocket for her keys and tossed them to Deme.

Her sister hurried down in front of Selene and the stranger to open the door to the little apartment.

Straining against his weight, Selene stepped down first. In a combination of deliberate steps and clumsy falling, she got him down the short flight so quickly he slammed into the door frame.

The big man roared, his eyes flashing open, exposing deep, tawny gold irises, like a lion.

Selene gasped.