when she made a muffled noise, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, I swear.”
It wasn’t okay, far from it . . . but she couldn’t make herself pull away from his body, his warmth, his scent. Her mind went blank, save for a deep-down whisper that said, Yes. This was what she had been missing; this was where she was supposed to be.
Only it wasn’t.
“Let go of me,” she said into his chest. But she held him close.
“I can’t. I’ve tried.” He rested his cheek on her hair and breathed her in. “We should’ve been like them. Partners. Mates. Together to the very end.”
“Rabbit . . .” She trailed off, knowing she should push him back. Instead, she pressed her face against his chest, so she could hear his heartbeat, thudding steadily with a rhythm that seemed to say, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive.
Was that what the vision was trying to tell them? That life was short? Warmth kindled low in her stomach, weakening her and telling her to take what she wanted now, before it was too late. And whether or not she wanted to admit it, that wasn’t just the sex magic talking. It was her body, her heart.
I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive.
She levered away, not to escape but to look up at him. There was a faint curve to his lips, which were so often—more these days than ever—set in concentration. “It was your smile,” she said before she knew she was going to. “That day in the tea shop, it was your smile I noticed first.”
He went still, not even breathing. But his eyes were locked on hers and the magic raced between them.
“You came in with Nate and Alexis to buy that ceremonial dagger from the Witch,” she continued, “but I didn’t really pay attention to them—they were just marks. Customers. Whatever. But you were different.” He’d looked fierce and capable, like he could handle anything. “And when you saw me, you smiled.” Just a quick grin, a “hey, hottie, whassup?” like she’d gotten a thousand times before . . . but one that had held empathy, along with a devilish glint that had made her want to see what would happen if he let loose.
“You were hiding behind some shelves.” His voice was thick. “You disappeared almost as soon as I saw you, but for those few seconds, it was like you were the only person in the room. Like the light was drawn right to you.” He paused. “After we left the shop, it was your face that stuck with me. Not just because you had a black eye, but because you looked lonely, angry, trapped . . . and for the first time in my life, it felt like I’d met someone like me.”
Myr’s heart bumped in her chest. They’d never really talked about their first meeting, at least like this, and that was probably the most romantic thing he’d ever said to her, damn him.
“You did,” she said through a throat gone tight with emotion. “I was. Oh, hell.” Her better intentions crumbled in that instant—or maybe they had already been most of the way gone, undermined by the vision and his smile, and remembering what it had felt like to be beaten down for so long . . . and then to suddenly have someone who gave a shit.
She didn’t know which one of them moved first, but they met halfway.
Spurred by magic, memories and the crazy desire that hadn’t burned out despite everything, she pressed her lips to his, opened her mouth to the plunge of his tongue, and clutched at his shirt as he kissed her.
Yes! said the burn of excitement that flared as his warm strength surrounded her and their bodies lined up, bumping and then pressing together from collarbones to thighs, and everywhere in between. Finally! said her libido as he growled low in his throat and changed the angle of the kiss. What the hell are you doing? said her better sense. But even though kissing him went against everything she’d been telling herself for the past ten days, she couldn’t make herself stop.
So she didn’t stop. Instead, she opened to him, twined around him, and moaned as the sizzling energy pumped from her to him and back again, racing through the connection she had hated before, but now couldn’t get enough of.
Then, suddenly, boom! The magic flared higher and hotter, not sex magic anymore, but spell-cast magic. It whipped around her, caught her up, sucked her in.
“Rabbit!” She clutched at him, fear surging as her senses pinwheeled and then accelerated, spinning faster and faster. Wind came out of nowhere, screaming suddenly inside the cave to buffet them, circle around them, suck at them.
She screamed as the tornado dragged at her, coming somehow from her and Rabbit’s magic. She couldn’t block it, though—the connection was wide open, the magic racing between them, and from there into the gaping vortex.
“We have to shut it down!” Rabbit shouted. “We need—” The tornado roar cut him off.
Myr grabbed for her wand. It was gone, though, and the fire had been blown away. She slapped the panic button on her comm device, but the indicator didn’t light up; the magic was interfering with the signal, even with the transponder nearby. Rabbit yelled something, but she couldn’t hear him, didn’t understand. How had they gone from a kiss to this? Fear slashed—she was defenseless, vulnerable—
No! She wasn’t giving up. Her wand might be gone, her backup faraway, but the magic was still inside her. Digging down, she fought to summon her powers, just like she would’ve if she’d had her wand and crystals, if she’d been surrounded by scented oils and sitting in front of a fire pit shaped like a five-pointed star. They’re just props, she told herself, and tried to believe it.
Rabbit put his mouth next to her ear and yelled through the whirling whip. “Shields on three!”
She nodded, though she wasn’t sure she could cast the spell. What other choice did she have, though? Sand blasted her skin, dragging her toward the funnel. They had to stop this!
He counted it on fingers she could barely see. One . . . two . . . On “three” she cast the strongest shield spell she could summon, slamming the green-hazed magic into place around her body. And it worked! The force field materialized around her just as Rabbit cast his shield, which was fiery red, and crackled with tremendous power. The two shields met as they had a hundred times before when the two of them trained together—but where before they had melded together, now they repelled violently.
Boom! Energy flared at the point of contact, and a huge explosion flung Myr across the cave. She landed hard and slid in the sand, screaming as something tore inside her—not in her body, but in her mind, at the base of her skull. The shield spell protected her from the shock wave and the pepper of rocky shrapnel, but it didn’t blunt the impact, which left her dazed and gasping for breath.
She heard the sizzle of magic and Rabbit’s vicious curses, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t focus. Her head felt terrifyingly empty—had she banged it, injured it? No, this wasn’t pain, it was—Oh, gods. Her heart raced as she realized that she couldn’t feel their connection anymore. She couldn’t sense his emotions, his life energy or even the flow of magic between them.
The separation spell had worked!
Maybe it had been triggered by their kiss, maybe by something else, but it had triggered, giving him back his magic and breaking the connection between them. More, she had kept her own version of the Nightkeepers’ powers. The shield still surrounded her, and magic still pulsed in her veins. Relief and fierce joy hammered through her, brightening the threads of green flame surrounding her. She was a mage!
“It worked!” Killing the shield, she lurched to her feet and turned toward him. “We— No!” Her heart stopped at the sight of the oily brown cloud pulsing around him.
Dark magic. She stumbled back, lifting her hands to ward off the sight, along with the realization that their bond had been blocking his hell-link. Now that the connection was broken, the evil magic was coming for him. “Rabbit!”
She flashed back on the memories she’d tried so hard to forget, or at least move past. Only she hadn’t moved past them, she realized now. The terror was still there, the pain still fresh and sharp.
He burst into the cave, eyes brilliant with fury, and for the first time she was truly afraid of him. She didn’t know the man storming across the sand toward where she knelt over a small fire. His face was set, unrecognizable, and he had his ceremonial knife in one fist.
“Rabbit.” She rose, holding out her hands. “Wait. It’s not anything bad. I’m just—”
“Don’t!” he thundered. “No more lies!”
