My kind adapted and formed groups out of necessity, and consent was the only way to make our arrangements work, though sometimes I privately thought we hadn’t changed much. At heart we were still best on our own, masters of temporary connections and nothing more. Or at least that had always describedme.
The apartment was my private space, only one maid and personal assistant ever came inside besides me. I preferred to keep my distance from people. And now Rob Walters and his meager magic and huge, loud presence were everywhere.
I probably should have booked him a hotel room. But proving or disproving my suspicions was fairly simple, something we could accomplish today. My hunch might even be wrong. He could be out of here by this evening.
The fallen strawberries would have to wait. The sooner we got this over with, the better. For everyone’s sakes.
4.The Flames went Higher, that Ring of…
Rob
Last night? I freaking called it. The room where we drank sweet strong liquor and he offered me a gig had definitely been a study. Because this was the office. This guy had an officeanda study.
Minimal clutter in the office meant lots of free space and empty hardwood floors, giving us enough room for spellcasting. He carried in a few boxes with magical supplies while I tried to figure him out.
The guy was sort of a standoffish dick and we were naturals at pushing each other’s buttons. Being around him was a roller-coaster of emotions, the not-fun kind of ride. An old, rickety roller-coaster that made you seriously fear for your safety.
Unfortunately, none of it made him less inconveniently sexy.
Orion got right down to business. “Lex’s energy led me to you. The faint traces are tied to your pulse.”
A blood tie? Even wasted, I’d remember blood pacts with demons. “Nah, of all the bodily fluids I might swap with a demon, blood isn’t—"
“We can figure out the how and why later,” Orion cut in smoothly. “First I want to confirm whether the connection I’m sensing truly exists and is legitimate.”
My bet? Shenanigans. Or Orion was just plain wrong and I could gloat about that later. A legit connection to this baddie seemed too unlikely. Some of the details might be hazy, thanks to drugs and alcohol, but I had at least a vague recollection of all the mischief and misdemeanors I’d been involved in since discovering magic and the supernatural world when I was 24 years old.
Still… something about this made me uneasy. I just couldn’t put my finger on why.
"There’s an easy test,” Orion said. “You don’t specialize in blood magic, right?"
"Told you, I’m more theincredibly skilledjack of all trades type, I—"
"Dabble, right. Which means you probably aren’t strong enough—"
"Hey!"
"—to support more than one blood tie. You’d need a more expert understanding and a dedication to the craft."
Oh. My lack of skills were apparently good for something. We had a way to test Orion’s theory.
A blood tie alone was relatively weak. Hence why those who specialized in blood magic never counted on one tie alone to do much and needed the ability to support multiple ties at once. Blood transferred magic poorly. Its biggest benefit was durability. Undoing the tether required more effort than usual since it wasn’t like people could just swap out their blood.
Orion drew a chalk circle on the floor of his office with enough room inside the lines for us to both fit. “We’ll state our intentions for this partnership, bring our magic into the room, and give our energies a place to meet.”
He produced a chalice and a knife.
My heartbeat sped up. Orion casually gripping a sharp knife while comfortably discussing magic apparently hit all my buttons: sexy, magically proficient, and a little dangerous.
Yet my eyes kept getting stuck on the knife. It made everything so much more real… and stabby.
“If we’re getting into knives and blood play, don’t we need a safeword?”
Orion frowned. “Why? I feel perfectly safe.”
"How’s that?"
“I’m not letting you hold the knife.” Did he sound amused?
