Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) (22 page)

“Alright,” he said soothingly, rubbing her arm slightly. Even though she appeared not to hear him, he felt as though he should announce his intentions. “Let’s get you back home.” He slid one of his hands down her arm, feeling her chilled, goose-fleshed skin. He wrapped her cold fingers in his and pulled her slightly toward him. She resisted at first, standing still where she was, facing away from him. Her breath was light and shallow - he could barely see any of her exhalations on the cold night air.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Paris tugged at her hand again and this time, she fell into step behind him easily enough. He winced as he thought of her bare feet on the ground, but they were soon enough back in her yard and then making their way through the back door into her kitchen. Once inside, he let go of her hand, and closed the back door and locked it securely. He wondered if he should see Jade to bed and then head back outside to… what? Search in the darkness? He turned back to where she stood, waiting placidly in the center of the kitchen, eyes cast downward, expression blank. Perhaps he should wake her so they could talk about this?

Her head suddenly turned toward the pantry like she heard something and Paris found his gaze matching hers. There was a strange shimmer from the area and then a flash of light.

“Oh, I didn’t know we had company.”

The demon, Seth, stood in the pantry doorway, smiling.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

The
last time Paris had seen the demon had been in the Coven library, months ago, when Jade was new to the Coven and trying to find out who meant her harm. The demon still looked the same as he did then - dark eyes and amused expression. He was definitely more ‘casual’ standing in Jade’s pantry, wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt. He looked at Paris and smiled, showing off his glittering white teeth.

“A gentleman caller!” he said, one eyebrow going up. “At this hour?” He peered at his wrist where there was, in fact, no watch. The demon made a ‘tsk-tsk’ sound. “What will the neighbors think? You’ll ruin our reputations.”

Jade was stopped in the middle of the kitchen, facing the pantry and Paris had the urge to hustle her out of the room, but didn’t want to give the demon the satisfaction of watching them make an escape. According to Jade, the demon showed up regularly. Was this how it happened? Without any warning or fanfare? He just… appeared? Paris wouldn’t have liked any circumstances under which the demon appeared, but he certainly didn’t like it at two in the morning with an unresponsive Jade.

“What have we here?” the demon said, eyes narrowing as he looked at Jade. He seemed to come to his own conclusions and then nodded like he understood. “Ah, the lights are on, but too many people are home.”

“What do you know about it?”

Seth looked up at Paris with interest in his eyes. “My, my, you aren’t very good at this, are you? Our little possum is much better at bantering. Hardly ever lets slip what she wants, but you? I’m here all of thirty seconds and you’ve just blurted out what you want to know.”

Paris resisted the urge to dart his eyes over to where Jade stood, motionless. He kept his eyes on the demon.

“There you go,” Seth continued when Paris remained silent “Better. Not as good as Possum, but then she’s very rare. Though I suppose you knew that.”

“What do you want from her?”

“I’m afraid that’s between her and me. Despite my reputation as a demon, I’m not really into threesomes. Or foursomes as the case may be.” Seth winked at Paris lasciviously. “Someone’s feelings always get hurt.”

Paris chose not to rise to the bait and instead went for another direct question. “Are you responsible for dismantling her demon locks?”

“That question is funny coming from you,” Seth replied.

“What do you mean?”

Seth smiled. “No,” he continued, ignoring Paris’ question. “I felt demon magic working her locks from the other side and I admit, I do keep an ear, as well as several other appendages, to the ground where our dear Possum is concerned. Got a lot of potential, you know. I came to see what it was all about. I like to keep my eye on my investments. I’ve spent far too much time with her to have it all go pear-shaped.”

Seth peered past Paris to where Jade stood. She was still motionless, asleep, Paris supposed, even though part of her attention had been caught by Seth’s appearance. Paris wondered if it was simply the animal part of her brain recognizing a predator, even in her slumbering state.

Seth ‘tsk-ed’ again. “Neither a borrower nor a lender be, that’s what I always say. She’s in quite the pickle. I daresay she’ll get herself out of it soon enough if she keeps getting pushed. Or pulled.”

“I’m not pushing her,” Paris said quickly and then immediately regretted it when Seth turned his attention back to him and smiled.

“I never said
you
were.” Seth straightened up. “Well, it’s not nearly as much fun when she’s not here. Do tell her I stopped by. Or don’t. I’m sure I’ll be seeing her again.”

“I could ward the pantry against you.”

Seth shrugged. “You could, but it won’t be as good as her wards, and she’d probably undo it. She won’t admit it, but she likes to keep tabs on me as much as I like to keep tabs on her. I’m the devil she knows. She’s got a bit more street-savvy than you do when it comes to this sort of thing, though I’m sure you’re quite smart,” Seth said dismissively and Paris bristled. “But books aren’t everything.” He waggled his fingers at Paris before disappearing in a shimmer of shadow and light.

Paris exhaled slowly, mulling over Seth’s words as he tugged on Jade’s hand, leading her out of the room. She followed him easily and he took a moment to note the irony. He doubted she would follow him so easily if she were awake. In her current state, she was silent and pliable. He didn’t like it. At the stairs, she paused and he stood behind her, pushing once on her shoulder.

“Back to bed,” he said, keeping his voice low. He was loathe to wake her. He thought perhaps you shouldn't wake a sleepwalking person, but he couldn’t remember if that was an old wives’ tale or not.  Jade climbed the stairs easily, moving up them effortlessly. When she reached the top, she stopped again, as if she wasn’t sure which way to go. He turned her shoulders slightly, directing her toward her bedroom, where he’d left the light on. As they entered the room, Bruce’s head poked out of the closet, eyes blinking at the light, jaws stretching in a yawn. He shook himself like a dog, smacking his jaw.

“Next time, you might want to keep a closer eye on her,” Paris said and then felt foolish for chastising her familiar. Bruce toddled over to Jade, sniffed her feet, and then her calf and then prodded at her leg with his snout. He exhaled a gust of air in a snort, like he was clearing his sinuses. Jade stepped toward the closet and Paris had a moment where he wondered if he should pull out all her blankets and put her to sleep in her bed, but she’d already dropped to her hands and knees, crawling back into the small space. Bruce was right behind her, nudging her hip with his snout. Without many clothes hanging on the rack, she had enough room to nestle down and make a little nest. As he watched, Jade curled herself as far into the dark corner as she could, settling all her pillows around her. Bruce squished in beside her, stretching out long, his tail curling over her legs. He looked up at Paris with a last look as if to say, ‘thanks for bringing her back,’ and then closed his eyes in dismissal. Jade’s head already rested on her pillow, her eyes closed as well.

Paris wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching her sleep, thinking over Seth’s words. Seth had echoed exactly what Paris had been thinking - too many ‘people’ in Jade’s head. If Paris wanted to discuss this with Jade and, indeed, he felt he needed to, he knew he would have to be careful and sensitive. He may have to make some inquiries as well of specialized doctors and probably Hannah.

He felt like a failure of some sort. Not only had he failed Jade as a Coven leader, but he’d not even suspected she might be seriously mentally ill, despite the fact that she had all the traditional markers of it. Broken home, abused childhood, solitary life, difficulty making attachments. Paris supposed he was just another person in the long line of people that had failed her. He felt sad watching her curled up in the small space. As quietly as he could, he pulled the closet doors closed, shutting her in.

#

Jade
woke the next morning in the closet, stiff, sore and hot. Feeling Bruce pressed up against her back, she pushed at him a bit, trying to get some wiggle room. He had his snout buried in the nape of her neck, his long body against hers. Every exhale wafted dampness into her hairline.

“Ugh, Bruce. Seriously?”

He snorted and she not-so-accidentally elbowed him in the gut. He snorted again, this time in disgust and pushed away from her, flipping onto his belly. The closet doors rattled as he did and she winced at the sound. She pushed them open and crawled out, frowning when she noticed one of her feet hurt. She squinted at it. Why the hell were her feet dirty? She looked back in the closet at Bruce, but he was already burrowing his way under the blankets to keep snoozing.

“Lazy bones,” she muttered. Jade pushed herself to her feet, trying to roll out the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Given the size of knots she could feel, she was going to need a rolling pin to work out her back or for someone to put her through one of those old-time laundry-wringing machines. Looking around, she was surprised to see it was somewhat bright in her room. Dread coiled in her stomach and she turned to look at her alarm clock.

Shit. Seven thirty. She was totally late. How had she slept so late? Why didn’t her alarm go off? Why didn’t Paris wake up? God, if she was late, he was even later. He was always at the Coven before she arrived.

The sick, rolling feeling of being late for work had her darting out of her room and into the hallway to knock on the guest room door. She’d have to wake Paris up and hustle them both out the door, she guessed. Jade could skip a shower, but maybe Paris was one of those ‘had to shower’ people. Well, she could make coffee while he showered and that would save time and guarantee she still got her caffeine. What a disaster.

Her knuckles rapped hard on the guest room door and she paused, ear pressed up against the wood, waiting to hear some sounds indicating he was up. She didn’t want to just barge in on him. He might be… disrobed. She couldn’t even use the word ‘naked’ for him. People like Paris didn’t get ’naked.’ They were ‘unpresentable
’
or ‘dishabille.’  People like Jade were ‘naked’ or ‘without pants.’

Jade had to give a quick glance down to be sure that she actually wasn’t missing pants. Sometimes if it was hot, she took her pyjamas off. Thankfully, today was not one of those days and she was still moderately, if not modestly, dressed.

She knocked again on the door and still heard nothing. God, did he sleep like the dead? Maybe he did sleep standing up like a horse, like Henri and she had joked that one time. Jade closed her eyes, clapping one hand over them to be sure she wouldn’t see anything… ’disrobed’ and opened the door.

“Hey, are you up? Are you… decent? We’re late.”

Silence. She squinted open one eye and peeked through two of her fingers. She was totally unprepared to find an empty room with the bed made. There was no sign that Paris had even been there at all last night, except for the toothbrush on the counter.

What the hell?

Standing there confused for a moment, she realized she could smell the faint scent of coffee. She sniffed the air like a prairie dog to confirm. Yep. Coffee. She made her way down the stairs with what she was sure was a suspicious look on her face. She knew she was wearing a frown as she walked into the kitchen and found Paris working on her laptop. He glanced up as she came in.

“Good morning.”

Jade glanced over at the pot of coffee that was already done brewing and at his half finished cup. He seemed in no rush to go anywhere. She’d never seen him anything but clean-shaven and it was sort of a surprise to see him with five o’clock shadow. Or seven-thirty-the-next-morning-shadow as the case may be.

“Good morning,” she said warily. “Aren’t we late?”

Paris nodded. “I’ve called us both in absent today. I’d like to talk to you. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee and have a seat?”

She slowly made her way over to the coffee pot and made herself a cup. She hesitated before coming back to the kitchen table, but realized she didn’t have anywhere else to go. If Paris had called her in ‘sick’ for work, it wasn’t like she could go to the Coven. She slid down into one of the chairs, leaning away from the table. Paris closed the laptop and turned in his chair to face her. While he still looked perfectly presentable, there was a more casual air about him than she was used to. Maybe it was his hair, slightly disarrayed, or his bare feet. Or maybe he was projecting a casual air on purpose, she didn’t know. She wished Bruce were here.

“Last night, I found you sleepwalking.”

Jade paused, in the process of taking a sip of coffee. Instead she set the mug down carefully, staring at it. Had she done something while she was asleep? Was that why Paris was all weird and ‘wanted to talk’ this morning?

“Okay.”

“Do you have a history of it?”

Jade shook her head slowly, not yet meeting his eye. “No.” She didn’t add anything more and there was a long stretch of silence in the small kitchen.  Her fingers twitched slightly before she finally spoke. “What did I do?”

It was his turn to shrug and the movement was economical and almost stately on him. “You left.”

She finally flicked her eyes up to his. “Huh?”

“I found you outside, in the back yard.”

“Where was I going?”

“I’ve no idea. Do you remember anything?”

Jade looked toward the back door as she thought. She remembered bits and pieces of her dream. The lake, the Preserve. A strange presence. “I dreamt, but…”

“But what?”

She didn’t know what to say. Should she tell him about her dreams? Was it relevant? How could it not be? But telling him, telling anyone really, about her dreams would feel like taking off all her clothes in public - scary. But what if he could help? Jesus, what if after all this time, someone could help her?

“I have these dreams,” she began, wrapping her hands around her mug. She cracked her neck and tried to ignore the gooseflesh she could feel rising on her arms. “I’ve been having them since we first went to the Preserve. Since we passed by the lake.”

Jade chanced a glance at Paris. He appeared wholly invested in her, paying close attention. It didn’t feel pushy or strange - he was just ‘there’ and he was listening.