Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AGNES
Iwoke to the unfamiliar warmth of another body pressed against mine.
For a moment, I just lay there, disoriented, blinking at the ceiling above me. There was an arm draped across my waist, heavy and possessive, attached to a man who was snoring softly against my shoulder.
Graham.
Memories of last night flooded back—the standing stones, the unicorn, the rain, his flat, his bed, his hands and mouth and body—and heat rushed to my face.
Goddess … it had been everything.
I shifted slightly, trying to see Graham’s face without waking him. In sleep, he looked younger. The permanent furrow between his brows had smoothed out, and his lips were slightly parted, his breath warm against my skin.
I could get used to waking up next to him and feeling the solid weight of his body beside me. The joy of knowing that I didn’t have to push him away anymore.
Except I did, didn’t I? The curse was still there.
The danger was still real. Last night had been incredible, but it hadn’t actually changed anything, had it?
If anything, it had made things worse. The unicorn had confirmed what I’d always feared—that Graham and I were meant to be together—which meant the curse would come for him.
Like it had for everyone in my family before me.
My throat tightened with familiar panic.
How long did I have? My mum and gran had had years before they’d lost their husbands.
Would I get years? Or were the Kelpies more determined than ever to actualize the curse?
How long would I have to determine how to break the curse?
Months? Years? How long did I get to keep Graham as mine to love?
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
I startled. Graham’s eyes were still closed, but his arm tightened around my waist.
“I can hear you spiraling from here,” he mumbled. “Stop it.”
“I’m not spiraling.” I was one hundred percent spiraling.
“You are. You’ve gone all tense.” He cracked one eye open. “Whatever you’re worrying about, it can wait until after coffee.”
“Graham—”
“Coffee first. Freaking out later.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder and rolled out of bed, completely unselfconscious about his nakedness. I watched him stretch, all those muscles shifting under his skin, and temporarily forgot what I’d been worrying about.
He caught me looking and grinned. “See something you like?”
“Goddess, yes.” I leered at him.
He laughed and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the tap run, then he emerged a moment later and started pulling on clothes.
“I’ll make coffee,” he said. “You stay there and try not to catastrophize for five minutes.”
“That’s a tall order.” I glowered at him.
“Agnes. Love of my life. Light of my existence.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Just breathe. We haven’t even had coffee yet.”
“It’s just—”
“Coffee first.” Graham disappeared and I huffed out a sigh before dropping back into the pillows.
I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to organize my thoughts.
I needed to tell him everything. The Bookkeeper role.
The challenges I needed to pass. The vision the unicorn had shown me.
He deserved to know what he was getting into.
What loving me might cost him. I needed to make him understand the seriousness of what we were up against.
But first, apparently, was coffee.
I got out of bed and found my clothes, or what was left of them. My shirt and jeans were still damp from yesterday’s rain, draped over a chair where Graham must have hung them. I borrowed one of his jumpers instead, the soft wool hanging almost to my knees, and padded out to the kitchen.
Graham was at the counter, shirtless in just his jeans, pouring coffee into two mugs. He looked up when I appeared and his expression went soft.
“That’s a good look on you.”
“What, looking like I’m drowning in wool?”
“Wearing my clothes.” He handed me a mug. “I could get used to that.”
I took a sip of coffee to hide the way my heart clenched at his words.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“I know.”
“I mean really talk. About everything. The curse and what I saw yesterday—”
“I know.” He leaned against the counter, cradling his own mug. “But can we do it somewhere with food? I’m starving and I’ve got nothing in the fridge. Had I known you’d be staying over tonight, I would have run to the shops.”
I was mildly frustrated that he was putting me off, but the man seemed to have a one-track mind when it came to things he wanted. And apparently, in this moment, that meant food and not his potentially impending demise. I sighed. “We could go to my place. I have eggs.”
“It’s a deal. You certainly know how to work up a man’s appetite.
” When I blushed at his words, a slow grin slid across Graham’s face, and then he surprised me by coming over to me, taking the mug from my hand and putting it aside, and lifting me up so my legs wrapped around his waist. Holding me tight, he bent his forehead to mine.
“Have I told you how cute I find you when you blush?” Graham asked, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.
“No.” I sniffed and turned my head, pressing my cheek into his shoulder.
“Very, very cute. In fact, I may endeavor to see all the different ways that I can make you blush today.” Graham nibbled at the soft skin of my neck and heat flushed my body.
“Knock it off,” I murmured, pushing lightly at his chest. “We don’t have time for this. There are very serious things I need to talk to you about.”
“Och, I’m sure of it.” Graham walked me slowly backward toward the bedroom, continuing to suck at the sensitive spot at my collarbone. “And I’m certain I’ll be able to listen better when I’m not so distracted.”
“Graham!” I squealed as he tossed me on the bed and pounced.
Turns out, he could make me blush in more ways than I had anticipated. By the time he’d finished with me, both of our stomachs were growling, and I basically had to run to the door to keep him from dragging me back to bed.
What we needed to do was talk.
But what I couldn’t stop doing was smiling.
We crossed the street hand in hand, and I tried not to feel like everyone was staring at us. It was early still, the village barely waking up, but Faelan was already outside the post office and her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline when she saw us together.
“Woohoo!” Faelan shouted, drawing more attention to us, and my cheeks flamed. There was no going back now, was there?
“Word’s going to spread fast,” Graham observed, waving.
“It’s a small village. Word was going to spread anyway.”
“Are you okay with that?”
I was used to making sure everyone knew we were just friends. The idea of the whole village knowing we were together should have bothered me.
Instead, I actually felt a surprising relief.
“Aye,” I admitted. “I’m okay with it.”
He squeezed my hand. “They all knew anyway, darling.”
“Och, they did not,” I argued, pulling him up the stairs to my flat and unlocking it.
Of course they did.
My flat was exactly as I’d left it … conspiracy board still covering one wall, papers scattered everywhere, and a mug of cold tea on the counter. Graham’s eyes widened as he took in the chaos.
“Bloody hell, Agnes. I thought you took everything to the archives with you. It looks like a crime scene investigation in here.”
“Aye, I know it.” I locked the door behind us and surveyed my mess. I was oddly proud of the work I’d put in so far. “Okay. Before I explain everything, there’s someone you need to meet.”
“Excuse me?” Graham looked around the room. “Someone?”
“Aye.” I raised my voice. “Quilliam? I’m back. And I’ve brought Graham.”
Silence.
“Quilliam?”
A tiny head poked out from behind a stack of ledgers on the counter. Opal eyes blinked, scales shimmering in the morning light filtering through the windows.
Graham went very still beside me as his hand tightened around mine. Ever so subtly, he shifted forward, putting himself between me and Quilliam.
Always protecting me.
“Is that,” he said slowly, “a wee dragon? Or is this a post-sex endorphin-driven hallucination?”
“You are not hallucinating. He’s a book wyrm, actually. His name is Quilliam. And, um, he’s my familiar.”
“Your familiar.” Graham’s eyes widened slightly as he looked between me and Quilliam.
“It’s an Order of Caledonia thing.” I watched Graham’s face carefully, waiting for him to bolt. “He can speak, but only I can hear him. So I’ll have to translate.”
Quilliam flew from the counter to land on the table in front of us, his tiny wings beating rapidly. He regarded Graham with open curiosity.
“So this is the one you’ve been pining over,” Quilliam said. “I should have guessed that from the way you looked at him in the stacks the other day.”
“I did not pine,” I said, looking askance at Quilliam.
“I suspect it was mutual based on the way he’s looking at you now,” Quilliam said.
I glanced to where Graham looked at me, adoration clear on his face, and swallowed.
“What did he say?” Graham asked.
“Um, just that he remembers you from the other day in the stacks.”
“Hey, mate.” Graham stepped forward and put out a hand and then looked down on it, before dropping it back to his side. “Frankly, I’m not sure how to greet a dragon. He’s a proper wee beastie, isn’t he then?”
“And he’s a proper beast, isn’t he?” Quilliam asked. The two surveyed each other. My eyes darted between them, and I couldn’t quite figure out the staring contest they had going on.
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to cook and you’re going to sit there and listen while I tell you everything.”
“Wrong,” Graham said, turning and pushing me forward until I sat down in a chair at the kitchen. “I am going to cook. And I will listen without interrupting until you get everything out of that beautiful brain of yours.”
“But—”
“Just let me, Agnes.” Graham leveled a look at me. “I listen better when I’m busy doing something. It’s the nature of my job, all right?”
“I suppose that makes sense.” I tapped a finger on the table in front of me and Quilliam scampered over, clambering onto my palm. “Hey, buddy.”