Damnation Marked by S. M. Reine

guilt, and all the things she normally blocked out. The bond was like a raw, open wound, and having James in the same room was as good as salting it.
    That was why she had told him she wouldn’t do the accounting for his business anymore. It was also why she had told him to stop calling her. He hadn’t taken that well.
    Elise busied herself with arranging the knife in her boot. “What are you doing here?”
    “I was in the neighborhood to visit Stephanie.” He glanced around the dressing room with a furrowed brow. “You haven’t been coming to see me, so I thought I should try visiting you instead.”
    Neuma mouthed sorry , hugged a costume to her chest, and snuck out the door behind James. He caught her movement out of the corner of his eye and jumped away from the door, careful not to let his skin brush against hers. Elise picked up a glimpse of his thoughts— It’s that thing that kept trying to flirt with me…why does Elise always have to be around demons…smells like whiskey and pot smoke in here —and it took all her strength to tune him out.
    She didn’t realize she had backed into the dressing table until her hip hit it. The dressing room was large, meant to accommodate a dozen girls at once, but standing on the opposite side of the room from James still wasn’t far enough to dampen their bond.
    “I told you earlier, I’m kind of busy,” she said, voice strained.
    James ran through a dozen options of things that he could say to her, which skimmed over the surface of the bond for an instant before he spoke. “You’ve been ignoring all my calls.” And below that: You’re avoiding me .
    “That’s because I told you not to call me.” It felt stupidly redundant to speak aloud.
    He ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, Elise…” I miss you .
    “This isn’t a good time for that conversation.”
    Exasperated, James took a notebook from his back pocket. “This is too difficult. Wait a second.” He flipped through the pages, and she saw the designs he had drawn sliding through the air before he picked one out.
    James flicked the spell into the air and spoke a word of power. A cool mist sprinkled down her skin, from the crown of her head down to her toes. Radiating calm followed it—and silence.
    Elise worked her jaw around, trying to clear her ears. Nothing happened. But she could still hear the thudding bass in Blood, could still hear her own breath.
    It wasn’t her ears that had been dampened. The silence was inside her skull.
    She tried to listen to James’s thoughts, but they were a muffled undercurrent—not entirely gone, but inaccessible. “How long have you been able to do that?”
    “A few days now. I put a charm on my home office so I can do magic without disturbing you, and it’s holding up well. This particular spell will only last an hour or so.” James crumpled up the page and dropped it in the trash on top of an empty box of condoms.
    “If a spell exists that can mute the bond, does that mean you’ve found someone who’s been through…this?”
    “No. I had to design the spell. It’s the first one I’ve made in years.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I’m a little rusty.”
    She tugged on her earlobe again, even though she knew the silence wasn’t really in her ears. “This doesn’t really change anything. I’m still too busy to talk.”
    James’s eyes tracked over the costumes, the makeup cases, Neuma’s favorite riding crop, and the knives that Elise kept on an empty vanity. He moved to touch a chain hanging by the door, but seemed to think better of it. “Busy with… what, exactly?”
    “Prostitution,” Elise deadpanned. “It’s exactly what you fear.”
    He gave her a look that said he didn’t think she was as funny as she did. “I would have a hard time missing that. You’re not that good at shielding your emotions.”
    “Maybe I don’t get emotional about it.”
    “Elise…”
    “I’m working. Okay? Neuma and I have been handling administration