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“I healed you,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “I did not have the anger for anything more.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“My magic is based in anger.”
“What are you, some kind of witch?”
“Do I look like an old woman with a cauldron and a cat?”
She tilted her head, peered at him for several seconds. “If you put on a hat, scowled just like that—maybe.”
He sighed, unamused. “I’m not a witch.”
“Sorcerer? Wizard? Warlock?”
“I don’t know what I am. I only know that when I get angry, what I want to happen, does.”
“Seriously?”
He lifted one finger. “Invisibility cloak.” A second finger. “Shifting in the sunlight.” A third. “Healing you.”
Alex lifted her thumb. “Doing me.”
“That I didn’t want.”
“Felt like it.”
He made an impatient sound. “I thought we were going to pretend that didn’t happen.”
“Right.” She flashed her hand in front of her face. “Forgotten.” If only it were that easy. “Tell me more about your anger magic.”
“I guess we aren’t going to sleep anymore.”
“You’re tired?”
“Guys usually fall asleep…after.”
“After what?” Alex asked sweetly, and batted her eyelashes.
She could have sworn she heard him laugh, but when she stopped batting and peered into his face all she saw was the same sour expression he wore whenever she was near.
“I have no idea how I became magic,” he said. “I only know that the first time I changed, I did so because of my fury.”
“You weren’t bitten?” she asked.
“Not all werewolves are bitten.”
“True,” she agreed. “There were the genetically engineered ones.”
“Mengele.”
Alex cast him a quick glance. “You know about that?”
“I’ve been around a very long time. I know about everything.”
Not everything. He didn’t know Alex had been engineered to spy. And he’d better not ever find out or she might end up magically dead.
“How old are you?” she asked.
