Gathering of Angels(47)

“I could do that.” He cradled her cheek, his hand warm, calloused. “We all owe you a debt. Though most will never know it.”

“Better that way.” He nodded. “Bertram?”

He closed his eyes for a long moment. “Theresa is with him. I called the county sheriff—they should be on their way. And you should be gone before they get here.”

“We will be.”

Mindy Kay crossed over to the table, knelt beside Claire. “Thank you—for everything. You risked your life, knowing exactly what was after us.”

“I don’t stand by when I can help.”

Mindy Kay laid one hand on her knee. “You keep in touch, Claire. We’re not so far from your beach paradise.”

“You have an open invitation—all of you.” Before she could give in to the tears stinging her eyes, she stood. “Annie—can you help Marcus? We’re going to borrow your van, Simon. I will see that it finds its way back.”

“No,” he said, pushing himself up.

“But—”

“I will come get it myself.” He gathered Claire into his arms. They both groaned at the contact before he let go. “Now get out of here, before I’m forced to arrest you.”

Outside, sunlight pushed through the trees, sparkling in the mist that curled along the ground. Claire watched Annie and Eric load Marcus into the back of the van, settling him on a makeshift bed. She came back for Claire, wrapped one arm around her waist.

“Your turn.”

She guided Claire to the van, helped her climb inside. Claire watched the trio as they stood next to the cabin. Survivors, friends. Swallowing tears again, Claire raised her hand, not wanting to say the words. Never again wanting to say good bye.





FIFTEEN



Curled up in Eric’s lap, Annie studied her engagement ring. It glowed, a soft, warm blue that spread its heat all the way to her toes.

Eric cradled her hand. “I picked the sapphire because I personally hate diamonds. Too cold. I had no idea—”

“That it would magnify my power?” She kept her gaze on the ring, afraid to see the doubt she expected in his eyes. “I’ve been reading up, and it can have some powerful mojo. It’s going to mean a giant step forward in my training—”

“Annie.” Eric lifted her chin, waited until she met his eyes. There was no doubt in the beautiful blue depths, only concern. “I walked into this relationship already knowing what you are—Claire told me, when I found out about her and Marcus.”

She swallowed, easing herself out of his grip and off his lap. “That explains your decided lack of surprise when Marcus spilled my secret. No—” She pulled away when he tried to put his arms around her. “You need to understand that I am a witch. Not a woman dabbling as a hobby. A witch, capital W, with all the possible and impossible nastiness.”

“I don’t—”

“If you’re going to walk away, do it right now. Because if you stay, it’s forever—even if I have to break my promise to Claire and throw a love spell at you to make that happen.”

Eric took her hands. “No love spell will be necessary.” She wanted to cry when he spread one of her hands over his heart, laid his on top of it. “You stole this from the first. No spell necessary. I don’t remember much from the time I was under Natasha’s influence. But I remembered you, blondie. I always remembered you.”

“Oh, damn—here come the tears.”

He pulled her forward, and she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. Rubbing her back, he kissed the top of her head, her temple, then worked his way down until he reached the corner of her mouth. She turned her head so their lips met, and forgot her tears as she sank into the kiss.

Eric picked her up and carried her to the sofa, taking them back where they started, with her curled in his lap. She loved the fact that he could pick her up without any effort, loved that she could rest her head on his shoulder without leaning down. Hell, she just loved him, and was so grateful that he felt the same.

Kissing her forehead, he brushed her hair back, letting a curl twist around one finger. “How is Claire?”

“Much better.” Relief spread through her again, knowing it was true, and no longer a dream, a hope buried deep in her heart. “She’s coming back to the store tomorrow. First time since she’s been back.”

“Nervous?”

“Of course not.” He just looked at her. “Okay—yeah, maybe a little. A lot.” She slid down to the sofa next to him, leaned her head against the back. “It’s almost become my store the last couple of months. I don’t know how easy that’ll be to give up. But I am so glad she’s back I’ll walk away if that’s what she needs.”