Possessing the Witch

“What?” Deme leaned past the man to stare out at her sister. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, no.” Selene couldn’t meet her sister’s gaze. “Let’s get him to the bedroom.” No need to worry her sister. Especially when she wanted her to leave as soon as she got the injured man settled. If Deme had seen what Selene had, she’d have this man out of her apartment so fast his head would be spinning more than it was already.

By the time they reached her antique cast-iron bed, the man teetered on the verge of passing out. He was more a dead weight than a help. Or that’s how he felt to Selene, bearing the brunt of his weight. He leaned toward the bed, but she held on.

“Not yet. You’re soaked to the skin.” Selene pushed him toward Deme. “Hold him up while I get his clothes off.”

“You’re going to strip a stranger?” Deme asked.

“You want the honors?” Selene quipped. “He’s not lying in my bed in those wet, smelly clothes.”

“Why is he going to lie in your bed? I’m not liking this arrangement, Selene. You don’t know this guy. He could be a serial killer.”

“I can’t leave him on the streets, Deme.” Though her back hurt, she held on to the man. “Look, if it makes you feel better. I can sense that he won’t hurt me.”

Deme’s lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed. “You said you couldn’t read his mind.”

“I can’t read his individual thoughts, but I can tell he’s harmless to me.”

Deme stared hard at her sister. “I’m not convinced, but I’ll hold on while you do the stripping. I don’t think Cal would be thrilled to know I’d stripped a strange man.” She took over by sliding beneath the arm Selene had been holding him up by. “Just hurry. He weighs a ton.”

The man groaned, his knees buckling.

Selene helped Deme straighten him, then she went back to work, reaching for the waistband of his trousers. She wasn’t a virgin, but removing a strange man’s tattered pants was...well...disturbing. She quickly flicked the buttons loose and stripped the damp trousers down thick muscular legs coated with a fine layer of tawny hairs.

Her heartbeat quickened when she realized he wore nothing beneath his trousers.

Breath caught in her throat and she hurriedly removed his pants, setting them in a pile on the floor.

“Holy smokes, the man is hung like a frickin’ horse!” Deme grunted and almost fell over. “Damn, I think he’s out again. It’s all I can do to hold him up.” She shifted his weight, leaning hard to keep him up.

With her heart already beating a rapid tattoo inside her body, Selene hoped Deme wouldn’t mention the man’s nakedness again. Her older sister couldn’t be happy about this stranger being totally nude in her sister’s bed. She’d never leave him alone with Selene at this rate.

Selene knew, by way of her “gift,” that she had to get Deme out of the apartment before she tried to clean this man’s wounds. Something about him screamed danger. But not necessarily a danger to her. Those eyes, that growling and the roar, were only the beginning, she feared.

Deme wouldn’t understand. She didn’t have the gift of spirit like Selene.

Trousers off, completely naked, the man swayed. Selene helped Deme maneuver him to the bed, where they sat him on the edge and laid him back gently, lifting his feet up onto the mattress. Once settled, Selene pulled the sheet up over his legs and hips.

Selene went to work on the padding she’d tied over the wound, pulling it carefully over his shoulders, easing the fabric caked in sticky blood loose from his injury.

He sat straight up, his hand reaching up to grasp hers in a surprisingly strong grasp.

“Easy now. We have to clean it so that it doesn’t get infected,” she said in a stern but gentle tone.

His grip loosened, his hand falling to his side. Golden eyes, glassy with pain, stared at her before they rolled back in his head again, and he slumped against her.

Selene braced herself to keep from falling over with his weight.

Deme moved forward to steady Selene. “You got him?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Selene and Deme held on, lowering him back to the mattress. Once there, they stood back and flexed their arms and shoulders.

Selene took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sure you have to get back to Cal. I can take it from here.”

Deme crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

“Yes, you are. If I need your help, I’ll call you. I have you on speed dial.”

“Selene, be serious. You don’t know him and what he’s capable of.”

“I told you. I can sense he won’t hurt me. Trust me, Deme. I need you to leave me and go check on the woman who was attacked earlier.”

“He could be her attacker.” Deme’s brows rose and her gaze captured Selene’s. “Your sense of spirit has been wrong before, hasn’t it?”

Selene shook her head. “Never. And no, he didn’t attack the woman.” She knew beyond a doubt this man wasn’t the girl’s attacker.

“Still, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you with him.” Deme’s cell phone buzzed and she pulled it from her back pocket. “Hey, Cal. What’s happening?” She listened for a minute, her gaze going from Selene to the man on the bed and back to Selene. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She clicked the off button.

Selene’s brows rose. “Cal wants you at the hospital to question the woman, doesn’t he?”

Her sister nodded. “He’d like you to be there, too.”

Before Deme could finish the last word, Selene was shaking her head. “I’m not leaving him. His wounds must be treated.”

“He’s unconscious. We could take him to the hospital with us and let the professionals fix him up.”

Selene stared down at the man’s pale face. “Even if I wanted to, we couldn’t get him back up the stairs.”

“The woman regained consciousness. I need to get there before they knock her out completely.”

“Go. I’ll be fine.” Selene didn’t wait for her sister to leave—she started gathering supplies to clean and bandage the man’s shoulder.

“Well, then, I’ll check back here when I’m done at the hospital.”

“No need. I tell you, I’ll be fine.”

Deme snorted. “I’ll be here.” She touched her sister’s arm. “Be careful, and whatever you do, don’t trust him. You’re my sister and I care about you. I don’t want you to be the next woman in the hospital, or dead.”

Selene took Deme’s hand and squeezed it. “Then trust me. I know what I’m doing,”

“Fair enough.” With one last pointed stare, Deme left.

As the door closed behind her sister, Selene filled a bowl with hot water and set to work cleaning the wound.

She dabbed at the dried, caked blood all around the jagged, ripped skin, careful not to cause him more pain. But the effort was hopeless. She’d have to scrub to get the dirt and grime off. She applied more pressure, anxious to get the river water off and treat him for infection with one of her mother’s poultices made of the dried herbs she kept in her pantry.