Chapter 47
ELIVANDER
Those indigo eyes stare up at me. Her lips curl with an almost smile, and I realize I’m much too close to her. Kelter’s cravings will be back with full force, and I’ll need some way to dampen them.
“I can’t give you my heart,” she says. “You won’t let me.”
“No, I already have that too.” I drag the tip of my knife down her shirt until it drops into her navel.
“Then what do you want?”
“Tell me something about you.” I want every word.
She rolls her eyes to the side in thought, a tease. “I don’t know if I can.”
I lean all the way over until our chests press together, and I whisper in her ear, “And I don’t know if I can keep my hands off you long enough to teach you, but I’m going to try, so you can too.”
Aren’t you the sweet talker? Kelter says.
I don’t acknowledge him. She’s the only one I want in this moment with me.
And he knows it, withdrawing from my thoughts in a slow drag.
He must be infiltrating my mind more than I think, because I actually feel bad for the guy, chained to a wall and starving, no way to satisfy his cravings except through me.
She’s breathless by the time I pull away. “I’ll try.”
I climb off her and get to my feet before I lose control. Her heart speeds up, her desire surging into me. She’s not going to make this easy. I cross my arms and look down at her filthy shirt and dirt-smeared face. “Lesson number one: don’t lie on the ground turned on by your attacker.”
She fails to glare at me properly, signs of a smile slipping through her eyes and pursed lips, then stands up. “Then stop having muscles everywhere.”
I sheathe the knife. “Stop thinking about me.”
“I’m not,” she denies, and a gust of wind rips leaves from the surrounding trees.
“You’re a lousy liar.” I hold the handle out to her. “Now try to kill me.”
“Funny.” She snatches the knife from my hand, immediately taking on a side stance and pointing it at me. Her face hardens into a fierce stare.
Damn, she’s perfect. “Stab me.”
“You’ll move?”
“Of course,” I lie.
She folds her lips in and squints at my chest as if I were a mile away. Then, with the determination of the entire Service Sphere combined and no more physical strength than that of a damn twelve-year-old, she drives the blade into my chest.
“Ow!” The knife falls between us, and she shakes her hand out. “You didn’t move.”
It’s not easy to stay silent as I crouch down and pick it up. When I’m standing before her again, I slip the flat edge under her chin and force her to look up at me. “Lesson number two: unsheathe, then stab.”
Her nose wrinkles. “You set me up.”
I unsheathe the knife and smack it back into her hand with a loud slap. “You fell for it.”
She holds it up again with a clumsy, crooked grip and zero strategy. Shit. As much as I love how clueless she is when it comes to handling a knife, she’s dead if I can’t teach her something—unless she learns to control her magic.
“Do not let me stab you.” Her eyes roam over me, searching for where to aim and stopping on all the spots I expect from her.
“But you want to, don’t you?”
She grins, a rare occurrence and a complete distraction.
“Maybe.” Then she makes her move, opting for my stomach this time.
I block her arm before she gets anywhere near me.
She recalculates quickly, stubbornness fueling her speed and strength.
Another jab. I deflect it. She tries for my side, my stomach again, my heart.
I whack her arm out of the way with ease.
“Faster,” I instruct.
She groans and doubles her efforts.
I block dozens more attempts. Her chest heaves, her movements sloppier by the second. Every ounce of her conviction pulses through me. I thwart another stab toward my ribs, and the knife flies out of her tired hand.
“You’re too fast.” She pants and glares at the blade embedded in the forest floor. The ground shifts below us in an angry jolt.
“Lesson number three: hold onto your weapon.”
A grunt is all I get as she storms off to retrieve the knife. She stands in front of me again, the clouds low and as solemn as she is. She sustains her face in a cold stare, the knife slapping her palm over and over while she refuses to look up at me.
Then I see a tiny tornado forming at my side. Dirt and leaves swirl upward. She maintains it, slowly growing it as tall as my knee.
“Planning to take me down with that?” I ask.
The whirlwind bursts, exploding outward with a gust that covers my feet in dirt.
“Damn you.” She stomps her foot.
“Again,” I whisper.
She peeks up at me then looks down again, her forehead creasing in concentration. A leaf rises next to us. Higher and higher. Until it’s floating above the knife tip, refusing to make contact. She groans in frustration, and the leaf disintegrates into a puff of dust.
“So destructive.” I hold her cheek and tip her face up. She’s cute when she’s mad, even cuter when she fakes it. I feel every emotion rolling off her, and it’s more fear than anger that burns through my veins. I don’t want her to be scared. “I’ll show you how to hold the knife. Turn around.”
She softens, her shoulders dropping, and slowly gives me her back.
I step forward into her. The back of her head hits my chest, and I slide my arm over hers, taking her hand in mine to reposition the knife.
She’s warm and fragile on the outside, and so damn strong on the inside.
Even with her pressed up against me, it’s not close enough. It never is.
“Like this?” She tries to match the way I guide her hand, shifting her thumb back and forth and angling her wrist.
I grab her waist with my free arm and pull her tighter against me. “I’ll answer after you tell me something about you.”
Her spine stiffens. She spins around and points the blade at my crotch, but misses completely and stabs my thigh. “What do you want to know?”
Only the tip pierces my skin. I can tolerate much more pain than a Vaile, but it’s still unpleasant. I tilt my hips back to dislodge the knife. “Everything.”
She looks down at my black blood on the blade. Her eyes grow round, causing the clouds to expand in gray bursts. “You were supposed to move!” But it’s not until she registers my response that her voice gets small. “Everything?”
Gods. If she only knew how I want every piece of her she’ll give me.
I bend down, not even glancing at the blade still between us.
Her breathing speeds up the closer I get, her chest working so damn hard to take in air.
My lips graze her cheek before I pinch the shell of her ear between my teeth.
Then kiss it. And I whisper, “If your blood belongs to me then mine is yours to spill.” She shivers and lowers the knife to her side.
I throw her to the ground, catching her fall then trapping her arms over her head.
Kelter’s cravings are returning like an illness that won’t quit, still manageable, but the slope is too steep and slick not to fall down.
I’ll need her again soon… if I don’t want to kill her.
Holding back my weight and strength as best I can, I press our hips together to remind her who she belongs to. And what my body thinks of her.
Her mouth opens, but she can’t get a single word out.
So I nudge her chin with my nose, closing her mouth, and kiss her lips. I don’t let it last as long as I want it to, pulling back after only seconds. “Lesson number four: don’t let anyone kiss you.”
A forceful laugh breaks from her chest as she lands her palm on my cheek and unleashes her magic. “You’re the worst teacher.”
Pain slams through me. I jerk my face away. “Well played. Now tell me something real.”
Her heart panics at that. So I wait. I have until the end of time.
“Then get off me.” She shoves my chest. “And don’t look at me.” It’s a strange, guarded feeling that pushes me away, not anger. So I roll off her and lie on my back at her side. The gray clouds are high above us now, but move quickly through the night sky as though they had somewhere to be.
Never’s arm flashes in front of me, and just as fast my knife is at my neck. She props herself up on her elbow and looks down at me. Her eyes swim with amusement, as if all the corpses in the distance were invisible. “Lesson number one: don’t lie on the ground turned on by your attacker.”
My trainee wants to play. I take control of her, throwing the knife aside, then make her hand grab her ear. She gasps, and I tighten her fingers and pull. “Tell me.” Because I’m not going to force it out of you… even though I could.
She lies flat again with a steadying breath, so I let go of my control and prepare myself for what’s about to leave her mouth. I don’t think she has anything but pain in her past.
She stares straight up at the stars. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.” The intensity of how tightly she contains her secret crushes my chest. Her slow blinks drive me mad.
“Come closer,” she whispers. I lean into her until our faces nearly touch. She’s quiet so long I think that’s all she intends to say, but she goes on. “Remember the shelf in my room in Caldera?”
“Yes.”
Her breathing is ragged, each word a challenge. “I left something there, and now I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Shit. What else could she possibly have going on? My heart pounds harder than hers. “Why?”
“It’s stolen.”
“What did you steal?”
She lets out the longest breath. “Your boxers.”
I push away from her face. She explodes into a fit of giggles unlike I’ve ever seen from her, all those feelings of containment vanishing. “My what?”
“Your undershorts! I took them from your pack and hid them.”