Silverthorn by Sydney Bristow

searching for…someone.
    I snapped the blinds shut and stepped back.
    Concerned, Nolan stepped forward and reached for the string to control the blinds.
    I attempted to divert his hand to prevent him from calling attention to us – that was, if the stranger looked our way.
    But Nolan clutched my wrist.
    Once again, I felt power leaving my body as though every time we touched, my thighs quivered and my heart palpitated. Surely, it had something to do with how attractive I found him. It made me feel like a lovelorn teenager. Since I had left little time for romance during my collegiate career, I presumed that my lack of a love life contributed to my awkwardness.
    When I turned to Nolan, he stared at me with an unrecognizable expression, as though he noticed a current of energy passing between us, but he had a difficult time comprehending what it meant.
    His uncertainty heightened my emotions, making my breath catch in my throat.
    He released my wrist.
    And just like that, our connection severed as if I’d cut off an essential lifeline to our continued existence.
    Nolan straightened as though an electrical shock had energized him. For my part, I had the opposite reaction. I wavered for a moment, feeling like he’d sapped my strength. I looked at him with a curious expression.
    “You felt that, right?” he asked.
    I swallowed and nodded, startled to discover that I alone hadn’t felt the shock between us.
    “At first,” he said, “I thought I was imagining things.” He looked at my hands. “I don’t know what happened, but I feel stronger, more powerful, whenever…we touch.”
    That realization set my hopes on edge. It meant he’d felt a spark between us. I wasn’t just imagining things. But what did he mean? I didn’t know how to take his comment.
    “It’s like putting a plug into a wall socket.”
    I shook my head, puzzled.
    “Like I was electrocuted.” He looked down, analyzing his feelings. “I’d never felt that before.” He stayed quiet for a moment. “Really strange!”
    And that totally sent my hopes spiraling downwards…because, really, what woman wanted to hear that remark? “Yeah,” I said, trying to remain positive. “Exactly.” I had to do something to get off the subject or I’d no doubt acknowledge that I felt disheartened not to have shared a connection…in a more romantic sense. After all, I thought we’d led up to that point, but I guess I’d misread the signs. And since I didn’t have much experience in that department, I tried not to get down about the misunderstanding.
    To avoid a clumsy attempt at sidestepping the topic, I leaned forward, stuck two fingers between the blinds, and peered out.
    A man stood on the opposite side of the street, now about forty yards to my left. Wearing a dark suit against a sinewy frame, he didn’t expend any more energy than necessary as he looked on either side of the street.
    Darius. He’d followed me.

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
     
     
    Startled by his appearance, I stepped back from the window.
    “What’s wrong?” Nolan asked, stepping toward me, concerned. He turned to the window again, ready to peer through the blinds.
    I slapped his hand away from the window and instantly regretted it. He had all but clarified that he didn’t have feelings for me, and rather than subject myself to an unrequited love affair, I needed to move on. I didn’t want him to think I was upset that he wasn’t into me, and in all honesty, that was the truth. I was disappointed, but I’d only knocked his hand aside because I didn’t want Darius to pinpoint our location.
    Since he had honed senses, I couldn’t determine if he might pinpoint movement at forty yards. Could he see us? Hear us? From behind a window? It’s not as if doctors analyzed him and wrote an article about their findings in an academic journal. I doubted he’d detect our motions or voices, but I didn’t want to risk it.
    “Darius followed me,” I said. Then I realized that, because