Page 25 of Charmed

"Thank you. I'm rather fond of it. My sisters and I were born on this very bed." She grinned. "Don't worry. The mattress has been changed."

He huffed a laugh. "Noted." Unable to face her, he retrained his attention outside. Her smile had a way of cindering brain cells. "It's a real home, not just a house. Sounds stupid, but you can feel the history and memories inside the walls."

"Doesn't sound stupid at all. If you're comparing it to the mansion, you and your brothers could always redecorate. Erase some of the bad juju there."

"We tried that. A wrecking ball would be a proper cure." Not unlike the way she'd come into his life. A powerhouse that destroyed rational thought with one swing. Or bat of her lashes. Same difference. He was still rubble in the end. "The only thing I'd miss is the pool."

"What's stopping you? I get the impression your brothers feel the same way. Level it to the ground and start over."

"Not a half bad plan." Money wasn't a problem and he wouldn't be sorry to see the place go. "Food for thought until after we're done with..." He dropped his hand, letting it slap his thigh. There was no guarantee any of them would make it out alive. Mapping the future was presumptuous at best. Tonight proved that.

"I should head back." He'd imposed on her enough. She'd taken his crazy with a grain of salt when it should've been him looking after her. She was the one who'd been hit with a potion and knocked unconscious. Yet, there she stood, ever strong, taking care of him. Accepting her offer to stay the night wouldn't help her. It would merely pacify his need to be close. "It's late and you've got to be exhausted."

"Like I said in the kitchen, I can drive you home or you can crash here. Choose."

He tried to visualize himself descending the staircase, opening the front door, and leaving, but his brain stalled somewhere at the second step and he never made it to the bottom. Anxiety sunk its claws in, and the memory of her lying in a bed of pine needles, pale as death, stalled his lungs.

Hanging his head, he sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You had a good scare tonight. Doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

He'd expected her to counter his admission with something sassy that would either have him hard or wanting to strangle her, but she'd surprised him by understanding. She'd done the same thing in the kitchen. Well, before the epic kiss. He had zero insight into how to handle a sympathetic side of her now any more than he had an hour ago. He wondered if she was beginning to care about him or if the event in the forest had done a number on her also.

"A good scare is watching The Exorcist alone in the dark." He shook his head. "There's scared and then there's piss-your-pants terrified."

She studied his profile so long, her imprint branded his skin. "I'm okay, you know. I'm all right."

"Yeah, well, perhaps I'm not." No maybe about it. He swiped a hand down his face and claimed a chair in the corner. Fists in his hair, he stared at the ceiling. "Every time I blink, I see you collapsing in the woods. Do you have any idea what that's like? You are never idle, babe. Even when you're not in action, your mind clicks a mile a minute. You weren't moving, were barely breathing, and were cold as ice."

Walking closer, she sat on the ottoman across from him, their knees bumping. Her long cocoa locks fell over her shoulders and the ends brushed her thighs. "Then think about what happened afterward. You got me home and Ceara broke the spell."

"See, that doesn't help." He gnashed his molars. "Because the way I remember it, the strongest person I know, the very woman who chews up fear and spits it out, woke up screaming bloody murder with tears in her eyes and petrified to the point she didn't recognize me." He glared at her, wanting to punch something. Or kiss her again. "I'm experiencing some jacked-up version of magical PTSD."

He really needed to man the hell up. No, he wasn't a fighter, but he wasn't a helpless ten-year-old anymore, either. Except, damn. He was still shaking and nothing he did to delete his cowardice mindset worked.

Her gaze dipped to her lap. "You didn't ask for any of this. Brady and Kaida are the brains of the operation, me and Tristan the muscle. I know you and Ceara are having a hard time with the battle side of things. You guys are the heart. Neither of you are aggressive by nature. What you're feeling? It's normal." The tiniest of wrinkles formed between her brows and her gaze softened. He was so shocked, he almost missed her declaration. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Riley. Any of you."

She'd eviscerated him so many times the past few months, he didn't have enough fingers and toes to count the instances. But her exposing a tender underbelly while promising to be his knight made their previous encounters seem like a merry-go-round by comparison. He was pretty certain a nuclear missile aimed at his solar plexus would be less jarring.

Clearing his throat, he glanced at the window. "You know, Fi, for someone as witty and clever as yourself, you are oblivious sometimes. I'm not worried about me." It took effort, but he met her gaze and attempted to fortify his resistance. Perhaps looking into the potency of her turquoise depths often would desensitize him to their power. He was delusional enough to try. "You put yourself in harm's way repeatedly, but who's protecting you?"

"We all watch each other's back."

"Yes, we do." He nodded. "Except you tend to slip past everyone's notice because you can hold your own." His worst fear at the moment? That she'd been on his radar all along, leaving him the sole person constantly aware of her presence. If her staying in one piece was determined by his actions, then they were in more trouble than he'd anticipated. "You bleed red, same as the rest of us."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

"And you don't give my uncle enough." He rubbed his neck and pulled a cleansing breath. "When Kaida got hurt, I didn't think there could be anything more traumatizing. I may not be in love with her, but I adore her to death. She makes Brady happy in a way we've yet to experience. But as that blade sunk into her, I got a taste of how bad things could turn out. If not for you..."

He closed his eyes, fighting memories. "Your healing gift, Fi? It's amazing. She would've died without your interference and Brady never would've recovered." Looking at her, it dawned on him just how much the little witch had been pulling his strings. "What if you're not around the next time? What if..." It was her who was hurt?

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"Something did happen to you. Tonight. Right in front of me." And chances were, he'd never sleep again because of it. "Your powers are out of whack and it took Ceara to wake you. That could've easily been the witching blade and not a potion."

She nodded slowly as if understanding. "If he defeats me and I'm not in the picture, who'll heal the others from injuries?" A trace of disappointment tightened her lips as she looked away. "Copy that. My services are needed, so I should quit being selfish."

Mercy, this woman. He could conjure a thousand and one adjectives to describe her, and selfish wouldn't make the first draft.

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