charged just in case. A quick check of my walk-in closet and bath revealed nothing but an outdated wardrobe and a severe need to clean the shower. I checked again with the same results.
With a huff of annoyance, I released my hold on the spell. Maybe the presence of the media was making me more paranoid than usual or maybe the scotch was muddling my senses. Either way, the fact that I had worked myself into a lather for nothing was embarrassing.
“Maybe I should just go to bed,” I grumbled.
“That’s a very good idea,” someone whispered in my ear.
I emitted a scream that rivaled a boy-band groupie. I spun around in terror, swiping my blade upward. Something deflected it, knocking me slightly off balance. I stumbled, then reached for the electricity once again.
An open palm struck me across the face, ringing my bell and forcing me to drop my hold on the electrons.
Before I could recover, strong arms yanked me forward. I had a glimpse of black and pink before tender, hungry lips clamped down on mine. Sparks exploded across my Awesome Area and the circuits of my brain overloaded. The familiar scent of honey and strawberries filled my nostrils, driving my heart rate even higher. I pressed back into the kiss. I was lost in the swirling, misty haze of raw passion that was finally broken when the woman pulled away. Bright, green eyes sparkled while her lips spread into a wide grin.
“Hey, stud,” Quinn said and attacked my mouth once again.
Chapter Seven
Pillow Talk
We came up for air sometime later, each gasping for breath and in need of water. I filled a glass in the bathroom sink while Quinn sat up, twisted her blouse around, and tried to pat down her hair. She smiled as I re-entered the room.
“Wow. Apparently we really missed each other this past month.”
Man, I enjoyed the sound of her light, British accent. The woman could read lines of code from a website and I’d get warm all over.
“And whose fault is that?” I eyed her, fighting the desire to tackle her once again. Instead, I took a huge swig of water and offered the rest to her.
She took several large gulps. “I know and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
That last part was certainly true. As much as I hated her disappearing act, it was almost worth it when we did finally get back together.
“Speaking of which,” I continued, “why are you here? And how the heck did you break in?”
“Oh, now you’re asking?”
I shrugged. “I was somewhat distracted earlier.”
“That’s my superpower,” she said. “Anyway, getting inside wasn’t too difficult. The lock to your sliding glass door is pretty basic.”
“But my barriers—”
“Are impressive. I do, however, know a thing or two about sliding through shadows unseen. Either by crowds of reporters or by powerful spells.”
The Fawkeses, like the Shifters, were one of those families with bloodlines that extended back to the early days of recorded Skilled life, long before the formation of the Delwinn Council. And, also like the Shifters, they’d passed along tons of family secrets over the years—including certain spells that were deemed dark magic. One of these was a practice called Shadow Dancing, a form of manipulating shadows to conceal the person from sight. Not many people knew the particulars about it since its existence was stamped out of history during some of our darkest days, but Quinn’s family still maintained the knowledge.
For Quinn, however, it was like holding a live grenade. She could get in a lot of trouble for practicing it, since it was banned by the Council. As such, she rarely used it and hardly ever mentioned it by name.
Still, hot potato or not, the spell was pretty effective. She’d successfully hidden from a Hunter and Warlock team pursuing her months ago and, apparently, from the news-hungry media hounds outside my door. Considering the sudden crush of attention at my doorstep, I considered
With a huff of annoyance, I released my hold on the spell. Maybe the presence of the media was making me more paranoid than usual or maybe the scotch was muddling my senses. Either way, the fact that I had worked myself into a lather for nothing was embarrassing.
“Maybe I should just go to bed,” I grumbled.
“That’s a very good idea,” someone whispered in my ear.
I emitted a scream that rivaled a boy-band groupie. I spun around in terror, swiping my blade upward. Something deflected it, knocking me slightly off balance. I stumbled, then reached for the electricity once again.
An open palm struck me across the face, ringing my bell and forcing me to drop my hold on the electrons.
Before I could recover, strong arms yanked me forward. I had a glimpse of black and pink before tender, hungry lips clamped down on mine. Sparks exploded across my Awesome Area and the circuits of my brain overloaded. The familiar scent of honey and strawberries filled my nostrils, driving my heart rate even higher. I pressed back into the kiss. I was lost in the swirling, misty haze of raw passion that was finally broken when the woman pulled away. Bright, green eyes sparkled while her lips spread into a wide grin.
“Hey, stud,” Quinn said and attacked my mouth once again.
Chapter Seven
Pillow Talk
We came up for air sometime later, each gasping for breath and in need of water. I filled a glass in the bathroom sink while Quinn sat up, twisted her blouse around, and tried to pat down her hair. She smiled as I re-entered the room.
“Wow. Apparently we really missed each other this past month.”
Man, I enjoyed the sound of her light, British accent. The woman could read lines of code from a website and I’d get warm all over.
“And whose fault is that?” I eyed her, fighting the desire to tackle her once again. Instead, I took a huge swig of water and offered the rest to her.
She took several large gulps. “I know and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
That last part was certainly true. As much as I hated her disappearing act, it was almost worth it when we did finally get back together.
“Speaking of which,” I continued, “why are you here? And how the heck did you break in?”
“Oh, now you’re asking?”
I shrugged. “I was somewhat distracted earlier.”
“That’s my superpower,” she said. “Anyway, getting inside wasn’t too difficult. The lock to your sliding glass door is pretty basic.”
“But my barriers—”
“Are impressive. I do, however, know a thing or two about sliding through shadows unseen. Either by crowds of reporters or by powerful spells.”
The Fawkeses, like the Shifters, were one of those families with bloodlines that extended back to the early days of recorded Skilled life, long before the formation of the Delwinn Council. And, also like the Shifters, they’d passed along tons of family secrets over the years—including certain spells that were deemed dark magic. One of these was a practice called Shadow Dancing, a form of manipulating shadows to conceal the person from sight. Not many people knew the particulars about it since its existence was stamped out of history during some of our darkest days, but Quinn’s family still maintained the knowledge.
For Quinn, however, it was like holding a live grenade. She could get in a lot of trouble for practicing it, since it was banned by the Council. As such, she rarely used it and hardly ever mentioned it by name.
Still, hot potato or not, the spell was pretty effective. She’d successfully hidden from a Hunter and Warlock team pursuing her months ago and, apparently, from the news-hungry media hounds outside my door. Considering the sudden crush of attention at my doorstep, I considered
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