Hell's Belle (13 page)

“Here.” I handed her a clean tea towel from the counter. “Put pressure on it before I change my mind about those stitches.” I turned to the sink to fill a bowl with warm water, herbs and salt to purify the wound. Vaguely hearing Mynx’s return followed by the familiar
snick
,
snick
of a zipper, I studiously focused on my task, refusing to think about the woman undressing mere feet behind me.

Once I was finished filling two bowls, one with the solution and another with water, I turned back to find Jacq wearing another of Mynx’s outfits. A harsh exhale whistled between my teeth and I put the bowls down hard, sloshing water onto the table. The pants were similar to what she’d worn earlier, but the top was much different. A charcoal sleeveless T with the bottom half cut off, it ended right below her breasts, exposing a great deal of hard, muscled midriff along with her wounds. Mynx had presumably left to dispose of the bloody clothes, leaving Jacq and me alone. Together. Like last night and the night before. But after our intimate moment on the lawn, this felt like so much more.

“Uh.” Anger suddenly lost, I swallowed hard, not meeting Jacq’s eyes. “Whenever you’re ready.” Gesturing to a kitchen chair, I wiped up my spill then turned to retrieve our old black doctor’s bag. I’d intended for her to sit, so I could kneel at her feet and ply my angel-of-mercy skills. But Jacq had other plans. When I turned back, she was sitting on the table. I found myself standing between her spread legs.
When had this room gotten so small?

Self-conscious, I wanted to move then apologize but did neither. Both would be admitting that Jacq made me uncomfortable. Instead, I moved closer, reaching around her body to soak my washcloth in the cleansing solution. I was so focused that Jacq’s next words nearly made me jump.

“You look a bit flushed. Perhaps Helena should ensure you are well, also.” Her words were low, serious, but there was something else there.

I looked up. Her eyes sparkled, but her lips were locked in a grim line. Was she teasing me? I couldn’t tell. Looking back down, I took a deep breath and gave myself a pep talk.
It’s just a bloody scratch, and she’s just a woman…a really hot woman.
Literally.

“No, I’m fine. Probably too much sun.” Swallowing, I stared, unseeing, at the torso before me. A torso giving off wave after wave of heat much stronger than yesterday’s intentional
zings
. It poured off her body and seeped into mine. How had I not noticed this before? Some could be from exertion. But not all. I ran pretty hot due to my fire magic, but Jacq was several degrees hotter. In a way, it was a good thing. Like yesterday’s bath, my body fed on that heat.

With my metabolism’s sudden jump, the last phers burned from my system. Unfortunately, they’d already been so weak I couldn’t blame the chemicals for my reaction during the healing. And I couldn’t blame them for my reaction now.

We lapsed into a long silence. Jacq’s body was tense, her eyes following me as I cleaned blood and sweat away from the wound, repeatedly reaching around her to dip the cloth into the herbed water. For balance, I placed my hand on Jacq’s iron-hard thigh but quickly pulled back as her muscles jumped. Too late, her scorching heat had already sent delicious tingles racing up my arm.

I reached for the disinfectant, smelling her unique scent mix with the eye-watering punch of antiseptic. “Sorry, this is going to sting.”

“It’ll be all right, cher.” Jacq spoke softly, her whiskey-rich voice lapsing into a surprisingly pleasant Cajun accent much stronger than yesterday’s slip.

She didn’t flinch as I applied the painful chemicals, though her knuckles went white as her hands gripped the old table’s edge. As if in sympathy, a burning pain at my own side briefly flared. I frowned but dismissed the strange sensation, moving quickly onward. Jaw set, Jacq watched me with eyes smoky gray, flickering with some elusive emotion as I pried each bloody hand loose from the table. She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it again as I dipped each into the clean water before cupping her hot fingers and gently rubbing each bloody knuckle clean. Her fingers twitched in my grasp, and I pretended not to notice.

My braid had loosened during the battle. So as I worked I bent my head forward, letting my loose locks hide my own carousel of expressions. My brain and body were muddled.
Why was I still standing here? Why was I washing her hands?
She wasn’t so helpless that she couldn’t do this for herself. I didn’t have an answer. For whatever reason, I had the nearly overwhelming urge to fit my hand into hers.
Were these feelings mutual? More so, did I want to act on them?
I briefly looked at Jacq. Her half-lidded eyes were nearly silver again. That answered one question.

Desire in a woman’s eyes didn’t look that different from a man’s. Unless I was merely projecting my own desires onto the first available person in sight. It had been three lonely years. I could be tilting at windmills, seeing dragons of want in her when there were none. Whether real or simply a projection, the expression in those eyes left my emotions spinning. I peeked again at Jacq. She looked as if she wanted to consume me.

My heart jumped but the rest of me stood still. For a moment I was frozen, staring into Jacq’s eyes. She didn’t move or speak. I knew that look, that hunger. I’d seen it in my own eyes before, as recently as the night we’d met. It was the kind where one knew they would never partake of the pleasure they craved. And it was most definitely
not
my imagination. Coming to my senses, I released a mental sigh that was part regret, part relief. At least she knew better than to act on this.

I reluctantly placed Jacq’s hands back on the table then moved a little closer, applying more pressure to the wound. Not realizing that Mynx was back, I was startled when she said, “I’m going to shower. I’ll fix breakfast when I’m done so you two can clean up.”

My mind momentarily blanked, thinking of hot water and warm flesh. I shook myself from those thoughts before I could add a face to the fantasy. The combination of adrenaline, phers, our near-miss and an extremely intimate magical joining had obviously robbed me of my wits and turned me into some mindless sex fiend. I looked up in time to see the exiting Mynx smile and pat Jacq on the shoulder, saying, “Be well.”

“Hold this.” I placed Jacq’s hand on the gauze and quickly stepped outside the circle of her legs.

“I think that is the most Mynx has said since we met,” Jacq said quietly.

Surprised, I half-choked, half-laughed before turning, searching the drawers for an Ace bandage. “You’re right. She doesn’t say much, but it’s not necessary with us. We’ve known each other so long that we just know what the other’s thinking. There’s a level of trust there that few have.” I couldn’t see Jacq’s face, so her next words surprised me.

“Trust, yes. But if you were my partner, I wouldn’t let you stand so close to another…or hold another the way you held me earlier.”

I blushed, thankful she couldn’t see my face. That answered the question as to what she’d noticed. But surely, she didn’t mean “partner” like it sounded. Just in case, I tried to explain without actually explaining.

“Mynx knows I’m a big girl, Detective, and can take care of myself. I trust her to do the same. Our relationship works well. I think this morning showed that. That trust and knowing that I can count on her to do her job are some of the reasons I made her a partner in the business.”

Suddenly too warm, I paused, stripping off my sweater, revealing the pink T that matched my PJ bottoms, mulling over the shirt in my hands. Would spot remover work on hellhound gore? At least two globs of red and brown ooze marred the pink fuzz. “Besides, it’s a family business. And Mynx is family. In fact, she helped raise me.”

“You’re not lovers?”

At the quiet, barely heard question, my shoulders tensed. My hand landed on the needed bandage, but I didn’t turn, instead softly saying to the window, “No, not lovers. Mynx may not be my sister by blood, but she’s my sister in every other way.” Unable to avoid it any longer, I faced my patient.

Seeing the red fuzzy valentine monsters with heart antennae chasing bouncing pink hearts across my shirt’s chest, Jacq’s stiff, almost pained expression morphed into silent laughter. The monsters mimicked those in an animated kids’ movie and were one of the reasons I loved this shirt so much. (Although I’d have to be tied down and tortured with a branding iron before I’d ever admit that aloud.)

“Hey, these were a gift from my aunt. If someone gives me a gift, I wear it. It’s the ‘nice’ thing to do.” I made air quotes, giving her a fake angry look before crossing my arms over my chest. “Plus, they’re verrry comfortable.”

“Oh no, don’t misunderstand me. I like them verrry much.”

Jacq’s tone again had that thick accent. I suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the A/C.

“And you’d better call me Jacq. You wouldn’t want me to develop a ‘complex’.” She made her own air quotes then shrugged, adding at my surprised look, “An immortal that refuses to change when the language does is quickly discovered.”

“A complex, oh no.” Hand on forehead, I faked a swoon. “Mustn’t have that. Jacq, it is then.” I couldn’t help but smile. Momentarily at ease, I busied myself putting items back in their proper places. I said quickly, “Hold the gauze there a minute more. Once the bleeding stops, we’ll wrap it.” It wasn’t necessary to wait, but though the tension of the moment was broken, I needed time to collect myself. I put up all the medical supplies but what was necessary to finish bandaging her side then dropped to my knees to scrub the bloody floor. Jacq looked like she wanted to protest but stopped herself.

Once again, I could feel her watching me work. Had I missed something? Her gaze suddenly seemed hotter, her hunger stronger. Confused, I swallowed hard and snuck a glance. Tense again, Jacq was coiled to spring from the table at any second. The room began to shrink once more. By the time I moved to finish bandaging her ribs, all traces of laughter were gone from Jacq’s face, as well as my own. This time, I stood outside her right thigh and used butterfly strips to pull the wound together before taping the gauze in place, rushing, not letting even my trembling fingertips linger a second more than necessary.

Jacq sat quietly as I wrapped the bandage around and around, securing the gauze. On my last pass, I accidentally brushed the underside of a shockingly bare breast. At her quick hitch in breath, I looked up, seeing eyes completely silver with desire staring at my lips. There was no doubt about that look. Something had changed. She wouldn’t be holding back any longer. I almost kicked myself for correcting her misunderstanding about Mynx, but I was incapable of intentionally misleading her. I hastily stepped back, leaving her to tuck in the bandage.

“Cate, wait.” Jacq’s voice was anxious.

I looked at her knees, not wanting to see those eyes…that face…or that body right now. She lifted a hand toward me.

“No, I can’t do this.” Trying to keep the panic from my voice, I took another step back, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. I skirted the table, heading for the door. I knew without looking that she had turned to watch my retreat. “I’m going to shower. I’m sure Mynx is out by now.”

“Why?” The crack in Jacq’s voice stopped me, but I still couldn’t face her.

“Because I’m dirty and sweaty and smell like demonic dingoes.” I intentionally misunderstood. Too bad my conscience wouldn’t let me stop at that. “I’m sorry, if I misled you.” I took a breath, letting it out slowly, my gaze staying on the open archway that led to the hall and freedom. A few feet had never seemed so far. I knew she could see my stiff shoulders and clenched fists, but I couldn’t pretend that this didn’t matter. And I couldn’t walk away without saying one last thing. “I’m not myself right now.”

Inexplicably, there were tears in my eyes…and maybe also in my voice. I didn’t know if they were tears of frustration, apology, or something else. I had the overwhelming urge to trust her. To stay and explain the phers’ effects and that the signals I was sending couldn’t be real. To explain that I’d never before been attracted to a woman. To explain that I was scared by the connection we’d shared as our magic merged. To explain that I would never settle for anything less than growing old together, and she would never grow old. There was much that I wanted to say, maybe needed to say. Instead, I walked away.

I didn’t need eyes in the back of my head to know that Jacq sat, motionless, watching me go. Just past the door, outside her line of vision, I stopped to wipe away my tears, not wanting to explain to Mynx why I was crying, especially since I couldn’t explain it to myself. My moment’s hesitation was the only reason I heard her last, whispered words, “If you’re not you, then who are you?”

I wish I knew.

* * *

Three Years Ago

The spell wasn’t complicated.
But the cost?
It was more than I was willing to pay. So I had changed it. Rearranging spells was dangerous, but with time and patience it could be done. Too bad I had neither. Magic was at its highest today of all days. There wouldn’t be another equinox or solstice for months. I was desperate.

It had to be today.

I stood in my veil and white dress in a circle of green magic deep in the woods, looking down at my altar. The candles. The knife. Everything was prepared. It had been a wonderful ceremony, but something had been wrong. Maybe I’d noticed my mother’s absence more because most of the faces had been unfamiliar. My new husband was still at the reception, smiling, greeting those strangers. In a few minutes they would notice my absence. It was dangerous to hurry, but grief had numbed my mind and removed any caution I might have felt.

I began the chant, twisting here and there the changed words. The spell required a person to give blood freely and suffer greatly. This person was not meant to be the spell’s conductor, but I couldn’t ask another to make this sacrifice.

Hissing with pain, I sliced one wrist then the other—shallow wounds meant to bleed but not kill. If I was dead I couldn’t complete my task. My spine stiffened as blood flowed into the ceremonial bowl and the true pain began. I tightened my grip on the altar, standing straight. Whips of magic swirled in the air, licking at my skin with dark red tongues…pulling at my pinned black tresses…caressing me with icy fire that seared my muscles and sizzled my bones.