Chapter 20
Callum
“Pick one.”
“Any of them?”
“Any of them. Whatever your heart desires.”
Seren grins as she looks over the assorted weapons in my closet. Crossbows and swords and knives, a wide array of tools that might come in handy on the hunt.
“That one’s pretty.”
I chuckle as I reach for the dagger she points to, taking it down from its place on the shelf and holding it out to her. “Do you know how to wield it?”
“I’ve taken a couple of self-defense classes.” She tosses the weapon from one hand to the other, getting the feel of it.
I shouldn’t find it as attractive as I do.
Nor should I step in when she looks down at herself, like she’s trying to find the best place to keep it on her body.
“I’ve got something to go with it.”
Back in the closet, I find a sheath with leather straps. I hand it to her, and she turns it this way and that, a furrow of confusion on her brow.
“Let me.”
Seren hands the knife and harness back, and her breath catches in her throat when I fall to one knee.
“It goes on like this,” I say, reaching for her ankle. She hasn’t yet donned her boots, so the leather straps slide on easily over her tightly fitted black trousers.
I guide it over her foot, her ankle, her calf, all the way past her knee and to her strong, shapely thigh. Then it’s my breath catching as I tighten the straps, securing it in place.
When I glance up, she’s staring down at me wide-eyed.
Demons have keener senses than humans do. Better hearing, better sight, better smell.
It’s an unfair advantage, and one I shouldn’t leverage against her for my own benefit.
But when her reactions are screaming like this, how can I resist?
The pounding of her heart, the gentle rasp of her breath, the flush of her skin.
A scent.
One I won’t name and can’t let myself dwell on.
Seren is still rightly wary of me. Despite the progress we’ve made, she’s still given no sign she’s open to the bond between us, that it’s anything but a curse to her.
Besides, I haven’t exactly given her reason to.
Still unsettled by my conversation with my mother and by my recent meeting with Myron, I couldn’t make myself confess my true intentions for my half of the bounty, should we win it.
I couldn’t lower myself in her eyes.
What would Seren think of me if I told her the truth of my situation?
We’re only just starting to make some progress with each other, and I can’t stomach the idea of watching that progress melt away when she realizes what a disaster my life is.
I don’t know how much the fae queen’s bounty will be, but surely even half of it will allow me to clean up the mess I’ve made of my life.
It will allow me to breathe a little easier, to have more stability to offer her, to be a better option for a partner should she ever choose to acknowledge the bond between us.
For now, though, we have to focus on winning that bounty first.
I stand and survey her. From the tips of her toes to the sheathed dagger on her thigh to the dazed, breathless expression on her face that she quickly hides beneath one of her signature smirks.
“As long as we’re sharing…” she trails off, crosses the room, and starts digging through her bag.
The charm she’s placed on it must make it truly endless as she pulls out item after item, searching for whatever prize she’s after. She settles on a selection of glass bottles, vials, and tubes, all pulsing with unmistakable witchmagick.
“I’ve got a few things that might come in handy if we run into trouble.”
“If they’re anything like the magick you’ve already used on me, I’m sure they will.”
Her smirk falters. “About that… sorry. I mean, I’d probably do it again, but it wasn’t exactly polite to paralyze you like that.”
“All is forgiven.”
How could I blame her for doing what she could to subdue a large, unfamiliar male who was trying to follow her, trying to stop her from leaving? A flush heats my cheeks at the memory of how badly I fumbled our first meeting.
She nods and eyes my belt, considering, before she reaches back into her pack.
“Here,” she says, withdrawing a leather pouch. “This should hold everything.”
Without asking or waiting for an invitation, she reaches for my belt, and I’m too damn entranced by the sight of her long, slender fingers undoing it to say a word to stop her.
As she pulls the strap from the buckle, her eyes flick up to meet mine.
Wicked, wicked witch.
Payback, I suppose, for whatever she felt when I was on my knees before her.
The urge to reach for her, to tug her to me and slant my mouth over hers is a terrible, powerful thing.
By the glint in her eye as she goes to work securing the pouch to my belt, re-buckling it, and stowing away all those witch’s tricks she selected for me, I could almost convince myself she wouldn’t mind if I did.
But now’s not the time to test that theory.
“Reach inside,” she says, and I’m powerless to do anything but obey. “Feel the long, slender tube?”
I nod.
“That’s an invisibility spell. You can pull it out and break it; the glass won’t cut you. Just drop it on the ground and let it deploy. You’ll be covered for a half-hour, at least.”
“Clever,” I murmur, fingers moving to the next glass vial. “And the round one?”
Seren smirks. “The round one is offensive rather than defensive. Maybe redundant depending on how many of those weapons you’re planning to arm yourself with, but it’ll give off a big flash and bang directed squarely at your enemies, guaranteed to give you some time to get away.”
“A useful spell.”
I’m trying to pay attention to each of the spells she explains, but it’s damned near impossible when she’s still standing so close.
Goddess, she smells good.
A rainstorm to wash me away, lightning striking stone, magick so potent and powerful it should scare me, but only makes me want to step closer.
“Got it?” she asks, and I nod hastily.
“Got it.”
We spend the next few minutes packing up supplies to last for a couple of days, getting dressed and ready to head out.
“To the Veil?” I ask, already certain a trip back to Faerie is in our near future.
“To the Veil,” she agrees. “And then to Faerie, if that’s alright with you. The cottage where you found me, there’s something about it. I can’t… I can’t exactly describe it, but the way my magick pulled me there…”
She trails off, a slight frown on her face, and I can’t stop myself from reaching out and squeezing her hand.
Seren doesn’t pull away immediately.
In fact, she squeezes back and meets my eye with a small smile replacing that frown.
“Then that’s where we start,” I say, and her smile widens. “And this time, let’s stay away from the mushrooms.”
Her laugh is like starlight, bright enough to lead the way as we leave my apartment and head back into the hunt.