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healed a serial killer so he could go on killing—these were foul intents and polluted a person, making it easier and easier for them to make wicked choices and do evil deeds. Eventually the darkness would overtake them and who they had been would be completely lost.
    But Penchant had told her she was a natural born Witch. Her power came whether she called it or not. She only needed to learn control and how to use it well. Unlike necromancers who could be made, a Witch could only be born. However, Witches could easily be turned necromancer if they were not careful or guided properly. Luckily, Valera’s grandmother had recognized the familial gift of magic within her and had guided her well, long before she had fallen in with necromancers and mistaken them as being like herself.
    It had taken years to finally feel purged of the stain of the magic she had unintentionally soiled her soul with. Five years to cleanse herself of only four months of bad magic. And to this day she was afraid of making a mistake and hurting someone. Or hurting herself. Today was the first day shehad used her magic “against” someone in nine years, and she had been devastated by their deaths. Able to recognize the stain of it now, she had dreaded the feeling of blackness she had expected in backlash.
    But it had not come. The universe had deemed her use of magic to be proper and good, the deaths to be unfortunate collateral damage. Valera had not placed evil into her own sphere, it had chosen to invade the comfort and safety of it and had deserved to be purged.
    However, none of this would matter to the Nightwalker she was harboring. If he suspected for even an instant that she used any magic at all, he would kill her for it, thinking she was like those who hunted and tortured his kind.
    Her office!
    With a gasp she realized her office and all the hundreds of drafted, crafted, and cataloged spells she had researched and gathered were spread out everywhere in plain sight. After nine years of total solitude, what cause did she have to hide them? She needed to shut and lock that door before he could catch sight of it.
    Valera spun around quickly on the ladder, coming face to…uh…navel…with Sagan. Startled, she wobbled off balance and bit back a scream. Then powerful and large hands were locking onto her hips to steady her and he naturally leaned his body into hers to keep her from losing her footing. His very damp and very gorgeously well-made body.
    Valera instantly cheated. The moment he put his hands on her, all her fears and worries flew the coop and her brain only registered Sagan and all of his fascinating details. She laid her hands on his shoulders, but not for any need of balance. She cheated just so she could touch his smooth, dark skin. Valera felt droplets of water spreading out between the contact, making her fingers slide a little bit, encouraging the slide to become a rather blatant stroke over flexed tendons and stone-hard muscle.
    Sagan felt her totter between his hands for only a momentbefore he moved in to stabilize her. Suddenly he found himself brushing his face against her warm tummy and his shoulders under the stimulating touch of her fingers. Electric attentiveness rushed hastily through him, amplifying the tiniest details to his senses so he would be sure not to miss them. Like the way she smelled even better than before, her cooking labors adding sweetness and more to the scent of lilies and warm woman. Like the way her hands felt as they slowly moved on his shoulders toward the back of his neck, sending icy-hot awareness shooting into every limb of his body. And especially it made him very aware that he only need lift his chin and stretch his neck the smallest bit and he could have the tip of her lush breast between his lips.
    The raw carnality of the thought made him lift his chin, his eyes shooting up to see into remarkable turquoise ones. The movement skimmed his nose and lips along the underside