But my body was locked on the moment of death, on the flash of steel, on the feel ofit slicing through my throat, on the warm blood that spilled downmy neck, on my heart beating so desperately in mychest….
“Chi,” Max said one final time.
And I heard it… the hooves, someone shouting Max's name. For afraction of a second, I swore I almost felt the grass beneath myform and the sun on my cheek.
It didn't last. I caught a flash of my attacker.
“He had a long nose, it was… broken. It hadbeen broken to the side,” I brought up a hand, clutched it on my nose, and twisted itto the left. I did not, however, open myeyes.
“Good,” Max said, tone tight. “What else?”
“He had eyes,” I managed. Which was hardly a detailed observation– most people had eyes.
“What color were they?”
“They were… brown…. But one… it was… it hadred—”
“It was bloodshot?”
I shook my head. “No, it was like he’dbeen punched in the face.”
Max paused, crossed his arms, and looked to theside.
“W-what?”
“It’s likely his magic costshim injuries,” Max revealed. “But what else? Do youremember anything else?”
I pushed my mind into the task, but despite how tightly I washolding onto the image of my attacker, it was starting to drift.The fear of the moment was starting to wash away, too. As Ilistened to the gentle lap of water in the bath behind me, thegentle pop of the bubbles bursting, everything seemed to… calm. Itwasn't Max's mere presence as he crouched beside me. Nope, it wastime. It was as if every second was washing away what had justhappened to me. No – I suddenly corrected. Not what had happened tome – what had happened to her: the victim.
I opened my eyes, frowning. “I can't… Ican't really remember it anymore.”
Max sighed. It was a heavy, sorrowful move. “The memories arealready fading. Is there anything,” his gaze flashed up to mine andlocked me in place, “anything at all that you can add to youraccount?”
I clutched my hands on the edge of thebath, drawing my bottom lip up and pinning it in place with myteeth. “I… I think he was in his 40s?”
“Good.”
“I… there’s something else. Somethingimportant.” I brought ahand up and pressed my fingers into my brow, massaging it as if Iwere trying to squeeze the thoughts out of my brain. “He hadsomething.” I let my hand drop and started to clutch myneck.
“Chi, you were not the victim,”Max said in a reassuringtone.
I shook my head, wet hair slapping acrossmy shoulders. “No, it wasn't that. He had something on hisneck.… Kind of a tattoo. It was black, it was…” Iopened my eyes once more.
“It was what? Do you remember theshape?”
I sat there and frowned. Frowned superhard, because the image I’d just locked in my mind had disappearedin a flash.
“Chi?” Max insisted. “What did that tattoo look like?
“There was a tattoo?” I asked,confused.
Max's shoulders deflated. “The memory is gone, isn'tit?”
I scrunched my brow up, trying to forcemyself to remember more details, but I couldn't. I nodded my head.“I can barely,” I brought my hands up and stared at them, “rememberanything anymore.” I shifted back, which was a mistake, as I wassitting on the edge of a very slippery bath.
And, sure enough, I slipped.
Before I could fall backward and smash myhead on the taps, Max moved. He wrapped one reassuring arm aroundmy back and propped me up.
Unlike when I'd thrashed out of the bathafter remembering somebody else's murder, I wasn’t distracted here.I was also wet. My top was soaked through because of my hair. Andthe thing about wet clothes is they stick to otherpeople.
I may have been treated to the feelof Max’s perfect bodybefore, but this time, as the water from my hair and toptransferred to his tight T-shirt, I was treated to a full view ofhis torso, too.
Before we had the opportunity to have amoment, Max cleared his throat and took a step back.
Now, to-date, I’d never seen Max beanything other than amazing. Sure, he was an arrogant git, but hewas also a fairy. He could use magic, he was seriously strong, andhe had god-givenspeed and balance.
Except, apparently that balance didn’thold out as he took a quick, skidding step backward.
His boot collected a particularly sudsysection of tiles, and he tilted back.
I pushed to my feet, trying to clutch hisarm to steady him. But I collected the bath mat, andthis time, there was no stopping me. One leg went oneway, and I fell backward. Problem was, Itook Max with me.
Now, I know in romantic movies it's alwayspretty special when the hero falls on top of the heroine. In thereal world? It's like being hit by a battering ram.
He knocked the wind out of my chest, and Isure as hell didn't have the chance to notice just how chiseled historso was.
Instead, I made a suitable,“Oomph.”
Max tried to push to his feet, but as he did, he clearly caughtthe end of that treacherous bath mat, and he fell on top of me oncemore. This time was softer. Because this time he didn’t fall fromsuch a massive height. And this time? This time, his face pressed right up close to my own.
Now, I'd been close to Max plenty of times. But not like this. Ididn't just feel the entirety of his firm, taut body. I caught hisbody heat, too. And I could smell him. He didn't wear cologne oranything, but I just caught a whiff of his scent. It reminded me ofthat grassy plain, of that sunny sky.
Max had no reason to linger. And yet, he didn't snap to hisfeet as quickly as he could have.
I wasn't confused about my looks. I wassomewhere roughly in the middle between plain and gorgeous. Thatmade me normal. And men like Max don't find reasons to linger overnormal.
Except he did linger. Linger as he lookedinto my eyes with confusion, mind you. Not attraction –confusion.Like he was suddenly coming tothe conclusion that this situation was ridiculous.
… Or was it something more?
He cleared
