“There’s pink on your cheeks, gold on your brow, red on your mouth, purple beneath your eyes. It’s like you’re somehow brighter than the rest of the world. And I know we crossed paths sometimes at school, but from the first time I looked at you, really looked at you, I’ve been unable to look away. As if my eyes are drawn to you. As if you’re a…”
An intrusive thought needled in her mind, in Kester’s voice:
A target.
“A what?” he pressed.
“A focal point,” she managed.
Ellery had tried to dismiss the idea that she and Domenic might be on opposing sides of a thousand-year war. But after so long without another prophecy piece, she needed to explore every possible path, no matter how desperately she wished it to be a dead end.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said coyly. “How do I look to you, when you hold Valmordion?”
“Hm, fair is fair, though it’ll be hard to find the words to do you justice,” he said. “You look like… like a diamond. Every slope of you is like a cut. Some parts of you, your cheekbones, your hair, your eyes, they shine a thousand shades of silver. But your shadows, the ones across your neck, your jaw, they have layers and layers. The entire world is dull in comparison, as if I’m supposed to notice you. As if I could find you no matter where you are.”
The heat in her kindled more brightly. Yet just as Ellery was ready to cast her doubts aside, Domenic added, “You know, maybe we should’ve realized it as soon as I found you under the alban tree. That we were…”
“What?” she blurted. “What were you going to say?”
The silence between them shuddered. Ellery had spent weeks learning the patterns of his breathing. Now he exhaled against her cheek—slow, deliberate, measured.
He knew what she was doing. Except rather than accuse her, he answered, his voice oddly smooth, “Smitten.”
He was fishing too. Which meant he’d also considered that they were supposed to be enemies. Which meant that after weeks of playing their parts for everyone else, this entire conversation was built on a ruse.
She should call them both out; clear this bullshit aside. But even if they were wrong, merely voicing the possibility would be crossing a line. They would never be able to take it back.
“So, to resume the tour,” Domenic ventured finally. “Is there anything else in your apartment to show me?”
“I suppose all that’s left is the bedroom.”
The warmth of his magic heightened, as if she felt the very flush flooding over his skin. Apparently even their faux flirting could have a real effect.
“Sorry,” Ellery echoed him from earlier, pushing open her bedroom door. “Did I fluster you?”
“Fluster, no. Intrigue, maybe.” Then he tossed out, “So what was my giveaway, dear?”
“Your heart. It’s pounding.”
The lamps on the nightstands flickered—he’d noticed the strain in her voice. Anxiously, she held her breath, but of course he could sense that, too.
“Lie down,” Domenic commanded, and she didn’t know if his intensity was from want or worry.
Ellery curled up on the bed and tucked the phone beneath her ear. Her heart hammered in more ways than one.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Where do you feel me?”
Her eyelids fluttered shut. His breath skimmed across her cheek, as if he lay inches away.
“You’re right beside me,” she answered. “You always are.”
“And are you lying on your back?”
Ellery turned over.
Immediately, she understood the point of his suggestion—she’d never considered the specifics of his presence, only that it was always so close, tantalizingly close. But his magic swept down the back of her neck.
She’d never wondered why, if they were meant to fight side by side, his presence was always behind her.
