Refuge(46)

I left the room and started back toward the stairs but stopped when I heard music coming from somewhere at the far end of the hallway. The haunting melody called to me, and I found myself walking toward it until I stopped in front of a half-open door with soft light spilling into the hallway. I stood there for several minutes listening to the music before I quietly entered the room to find a man sitting at a grand piano, his long fingers moving deftly over the keys. His back was to the door, but I recognized Desmund immediately. I stood in the doorway as still as a mouse for fear of disturbing him and causing him to stop playing. As moody and reclusive as he was, he might not like an audience, but I couldn’t tear myself away from the achingly beautiful music.

The piece came to an end and Desmund sat bent over the keys, unmoving. I watched him for a moment then moved to quietly slip away.

“Did you like it?”

I turned back to find him watching me with an unreadable expression. “It was beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

His expression did not change, and I wondered if he was angry at me for intruding on him again. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“I have not seen you in days.” Something like anger or hurt edged his voice, but I could not be sure which one.

“It’s been kind of crazy lately.” I winced inwardly at my thoughtless choice of words. “I went to the library to see you and I heard the music.”

“You came to see me?” I nodded, and his eyes softened. He patted the piano bench. “Come, sit with me.”

I hesitated for a moment before I walked over to the piano. The thought of sitting in such close proximity to him after my last experience unnerved me, but I had a feeling it would upset him if I refused. He shifted over to make room for me, and when his sleeve brushed harmlessly against my bare arm, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“What were you playing when I came in?”

Desmund played a few notes, and I noticed that his long hands were perfect for playing piano. “That was Beethoven. I like to play him when the mood strikes me. Would you like to hear another one?”

“Play one of your favorites for me.”

He started to play again, and I was immediately mesmerized by his fingers dancing across the keys and the captivating music that filled the air around us. Before I’d come here, I’d never given a second thought to classical music, but listening to Desmund play made me feel like I had been granted a rare privilege. It amazed me that he could play with such precision and beauty while struggling with the sickness and instability inside him.

My research on Hale witches had turned up nothing to help me understand Desmund’s affliction, and I knew the only way to learn more was first hand. I really did not want to experience that horrible sickness again, but I also couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering it alone. I would have gone mad a long time ago if our roles were reversed, and it spoke volumes about his strength that he was able to function at the level he did.

I wasn’t sure I could handle direct contact so soon after the last time I touched him, so I tried for something passive first. I let my power infuse the air around us, like I did when calming an animal, and pushed it toward Desmund. He never faltered in his playing and looked completely unaffected so I turned it up. Nothing. Well, it was worth a try. I looked down at where our arms touched, separated by his sleeve. Time for a more direct approach.

I let my power flow to the arm touching Desmund’s, but I hesitated before I attempted to push it into him. I had to prepare myself mentally to face what might come. Even if I could not help him, there was still the chance that this would open me up to his illness even more than touching his skin. I remembered the cold, vileness of the Hale witch in my mind and suppressed a shudder. Steeling myself, I sent my power into him. I felt the warmth of his body as I pushed inside, then I felt a heartbeat, and the unmistakable glow of life that every living creature possesses.

My exultation at feeling his life force was quickly drowned by the cold wave of nausea that swept over me and left me silently gasping for breath. God, how does he bear it? I had to force myself to not pull away, to stay and endure the feel of the repulsive magic living inside him. Any uncertainty I had about how Hale witches hurt their victims was swept away and replaced by outrage. Instead of simply striking at someone in battle, they actually left a piece of their magic behind to fester and torment their victims. What made a person’s soul so dark they would inflict endless suffering on another?

Desmund’s arm jerked slightly, and I felt another presence stir inside him. Shit! I pulled my power back until it barely touched him. I had completely forgotten about his Mori. I doubted it would like my power any more than other demons did. The fact that I had my own demon was not lost on me, but I’d have to sort out how that worked later. Right now, I needed to figure out how to reach the witch’s magic without upsetting Desmund’s Mori, and that was easier said than done.