Crack my heart over his knee then watch this tender feeling drip, drip, drip onto the sidewalk?
“I trust you.” I took his hand to prove it, and mine trembled. “I know you would never hurt me like that.”
Like that.
I bit my tongue, but it was too late. I had slipped up in acknowledging I had been hurt in the past, that I knew to fear the hits that hadn’t landed yet more than the quick jabs of a provoked temper that struck where no one else would see.
Just me.
And my mirror.
The reminders lasted for days. Sometimes weeks. Once, a month. But she was never that careless again.
“Someone did.” He cradled my cheek in his palm. “I recognize the signs.”
“It was a long time ago.” I shuddered out an exhale. “She can’t hurt me anymore.”
Midas drew me against his wide, warm chest. “The past is always looking over our shoulders, isn’t it?”
The comfort seeping from him into me felt too good to push away, so I didn’t even try.
Ambrose leaned against the brick wall, head angled in our direction, his attention making my skin crawl.
“Yeah,” I rasped, hating that he was watching. “It’s always there.”
“Good thing you’re not afraid of heights.” Midas made a humming noise. “It will make this easier.”
“Huh?” I tipped my head back to look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Up might be the only way in.” He pointed to the fire escape between buildings. “It will be hard to reach, but no one has thought to use it yet.”
There might be wards preventing access was my first thought, but it was worth a shot.
Much to Ambrose’s delight, I sent him to inspect the fire escape while Midas and I cut a path toward it.
Ambrose made fast work of his recon then he honed himself into a bolt of pure agony he hurled through my brain. I bumped into the person next to me as I absorbed the hit of information, but I doubted Midas noticed it was my fault and not the woman swaying to unheard music.
All that pain for a simple confirmation that yes, there was an active ward in place. I could have guessed that myself without the migraine.
No chocolate for you, I thought at Ambrose. Jerk.
There was a fine line between Ambrose hearing my thoughts and reading my intent, and I worried one day we might cross it. Honestly? Some days I felt we already had.
The shadow bowed his head, the picture of remorse, but he was in rare form tonight and couldn’t be trusted. Not that I ever did. Trust him, I mean. But I could rely on him in certain situations with the proper motivation. Truffles must not be cutting it if he wasn’t even trying to behave.
Blocking out my annoying shadow, I processed what little else he had discovered about the fire escape.
A nasty ward began on the lowest portion, encompassing the ladder and continuing up onto the roof. As I had suspected. Also as I had suspected, Ambrose offered to disarm it for me in greedy gulps.
Any other time, I might have let him swallow the energy to grant us easy access, but he had been snacking on and off without asking my permission. He just…soaked up the magics whirling on the street.
Queasy with dread, I feared what it meant for me if he had learned to feed independent of my will. Without his hunger to leash him, I would lose control. Maybe not tonight, but eventually.
Midas popped his knuckles as he measured the distance. “Do you want me to go first?”
Lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed the crowd pushing us until we stood directly beneath the fire escape.
“I’ll do it.” I knew what to expect, so it would hurt less. Sure it would. “Here goes nothing.”
I jumped to reach the bottom rung on the ladder, and the second my fingers closed over the metal, pain flared through my nerve endings. I yelped as I dropped to my feet and tucked my hand against my chest.
“Are you okay?” Midas pried my fingers open. “The skin is red, but there’s no wound.”
We had to get into that club, and this was our best shot. I couldn’t abandon it without trying, even if it meant giving Ambrose the upper hand. “That ward means business.”
“Can you break it?”
Midas had witnessed me work small magics a few times now, so I wasn’t surprised he would ask.
“Give me a second.” I slung my hand to ease the throb. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Stepping back, he gave me room to work, but I only needed to hide my communication with Ambrose.
Take it down. I felt his thrill in the permission. We need to get in there.
Ambrose, acting as if he was the one doing me a favor and not just given permission to gorge at an all-you-can-eat buffet, slithered around the ladder and latched on with his greedy fingers.
I hit my knees with no memory of dropping, and coughed up smoke.
What the actual hell?
Sadly, I still felt my connection to Ambrose, but the shadow was gone. Poof. Vanished.
The ward packed a nasty punch all right, and it must be part siphon too. Anyone who touched it would get shocked back as a warning, but it would also leech enough of their energy to make them think twice about trying again.
A reserve of energy stolen from its victims must be what powered the ward. Self-sustaining workings were critical on areas of this size. Otherwise, the maintenance required made them impractical for everyday use.
Ambrose was a creature of energy, magical energy, and it had drained him to the point he retreated to recharge. Even after hours of sneaking tastes from passersby. The shadow had failed me, its hunger not up to
