Chapter 8 #2
“Were you following me? I don’t even know you!” She charges across the room, skirting the table I’ve been keeping between us.
“Don’t,” I warn, my voice coming out rougher than intended.
She’s not listening. Her breathing is getting shallow, rapid, her chest heaving with each panicked intake.
“Answer me! Who are you? What are you? Because you’re not just some random guy who happens to know about magic.
You fought that thing like you’ve done it before.
You have this place,” she gestures erratically around the converted warehouse, “set up like you’re hiding something.
And you move too fast, you’re too strong. It’s like you’re not even human!”
Fuck. She’s too smart for her own good. Whatever else she figures out, she can’t know about the bond. That is for me to bear, and me alone.
Clenching my hands from the effort of not reaching for her, I say, “I’m someone whose job is to contain magical threats.” Maybe I can maneuver the conversation toward what I do—away from what I am.
“Your job?” Her voice cracks. “What kind of job is that? Who do you work for? The government? Some secret organization?”
The hum in the air has become almost unbearable. She still can’t hear it, hasn’t noticed.
Now is not the time to tell her about the Wardens or the Conclave, not the time to explain the supernatural community that exists in the shadows of her world. She’s had enough shocks in the past 24 hours as it is.
“There are people,” I begin slowly, “who monitor magical activity. Who step in when things get dangerous. I’m one of them.” I move backward until I feel my back hit the wall. Nowhere else to go.
“And what makes you qualified for this job, Kade? What makes you different from everyone else who doesn’t even know magic exists?” She steps closer, again. This time I’m trapped.
I was a fool for thinking I could steer her away from this topic. The question hangs in the air between us. I could lie. Tell her I’m just trained, just knowledgeable. But she’s already seen too much, noticed too much. And if I’m going to protect her, she needs to trust me.
“You’re right. I’m not entirely human,” I say, my voice coming out low, too low. She’s within arm’s reach, close enough now that I can see the swirl of gray-green-blue in her hazel eyes. The mate bond roars to life with crushing intensity, and I feel myself start to slip.
My control is splintering, cracking, when she finally takes a step back, eyes wide. My body sways forward toward her of its own accord, chasing the lost closeness. It must look like I am trying to tower over her, intimidate her.
All at once, the hum she’s creating grows quieter—quieter, and more intense.
“What does that mean?” Her voice has lost some of the franticness of earlier, but still she pushes.
When I speak, my voice is still a deep growl. I can’t help it. She is still too close.
“I have abilities that regular humans don’t.
Enhanced senses. Strength. Healing.” I turn and lift the bottom of my shirt slightly to reveal part of my back—already entirely healed from the echo-beast’s slashes.
Her eyes are huge as I drop the fabric and continue.
“It means I can track magical signatures, fight things like echo-beasts, and survive encounters that would kill most people.”
Her eyes narrow. “And you said you have been following me to ‘contain’ the magic?”
Heat crawls up my neck. I wish it were that simple. But if I am honest with myself, that’s not really why. It’s because I couldn’t stay away.
“Yes,” I say. Close enough.
Her eyes bore into me, the suspicion in them turning my stomach. “Because of the echo-beast, or because of me? Are you trying to contain me, Kade? Is that why I’m here?”
This whole thing is getting so fucking out of hand. I rub a hand over my jaw, feeling the scratchy stubble.
“You’re in over your head, Librarian,” I reply, afraid of putting her name in my mouth again. The nickname is . . . easier. “What I am trying to do, is keep you safe.”
“And contain this magic that’s part of me now.”
“Yes. That too.”
“So,” she juts her chin out in defiance, “I can’t leave?” I feel a surge of respect for her, for her indomitable spirit. She’s overwhelmed by everything she’s learned and by the toll the magic has taken on her, but still she insists on answers, on facing uncomfortable truths.
Although I’d have preferred it if this particular truth hadn’t come to light.
“No,” I grind out, hating how it sounds even as I admit it.
“So I’m a prisoner.” She steps closer again and I realize that, actually, she isn’t afraid of me at all. I don’t know if that’s a good thing. I fucking hope that doesn’t mean she’ll try to run from me again. Because I will catch her.
“Look,” I say, fighting the overpowering allure of her scent.
Heat is blooming low in my gut, invading my entire form.
I know my eyes are turning completely black, undermining what I’m saying.
“Don’t think of it like that. I’m protecting you.
Because when—and it’s when, not if—the echo-beast comes back for you, wouldn’t you rather be here? With me?”
The defiance kicks up a notch, blazing in her eyes—and the humming becomes deafening.
“Yes, I would. But it would be different if it was my choice.” With that, she jams her finger into my chest, right over my heart, and the contact releases something inside me that almost brings me to my knees.
My vision goes white, and I hear myself making a sound that’s half-growl, half-moan.
But it’s not just the bond. And I realize belatedly that my vision didn’t actually go white; it’s Alanna’s magic, a pure explosion of power surrounding us.
The crystal pattern on her arm blazes like a star, streaming into the air until it’s alive, first with white light, then swirling colors like northern lights.
“Oh,” she breathes, eyes wide with wonder. Her hand flattens out on my chest. “Oh, this is—”
The magic pulses, stronger than before, and I realize with dawning horror that it’s feeding off our connection—the mate bond. Growing stronger. More volatile.
“Let go,” I manage, but she seems transfixed by the lights surrounding us. “Now!”
She jerks her hand away with a cry of alarm, but it’s too late.
The magic crests like a wave, and suddenly all of the cabinets and cupboards in the warehouse are flying open.
This much magic is more than she can handle untrained.
She staggers, and I catch her automatically, pulling her against my chest as the light continues to streak from her.
On the table in front of us, all my loose papers and scrolls are blasted aside—leaving only the heavy book I’d recovered from the library. The one I knew was connected to this.
The iridescent colors of her magic wind around it, lifting it just an inch off the wood before settling it back down with deceptive gentleness. We watch together in awe as the pages flutter, then flip, until they reach some page midway through.
They stop.
The colors and the hum and the haze all seem to flow back into Alanna’s body, leaving us huddled together in stunned silence, staring at the book.