“Were you expecting someone else?” I tease.
“I…” Dr. Devane closes his eyes, then shakes his head once, sighing through his nose. When he looks at me again, his eyes are clear, the wall firmly back in place. Connection cut. “Of course not. I just… You look really… rested.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is clean.”
“Regardless, I’m glad you’re doing better.” There’s an awkward pause, him still staring at me, me still staring back, wondering what it would feel like to straddle him right here, to run my hands through his sexy dark hair, to feel the press of his palm against my breast.
But then he goes, “So, I hope you’re hungry, because Lala and I made tacos,” and I’m basically ready to marry him.
I laugh, because it’s either that or kiss the man, and I’m not sure that’s the best idea. I mean, it’s not theworst, but…
No. I’m a student now, and he’s a professor.Anda mage. An old one at that. That’s three strikes and… Goddess, I’m still staring at him.
Now it’s my turn to close my eyes and shake some sense into my addled brain. When I look at him again, he’s avoiding my gaze, pouring me a tall glass of iced tea from a pitcher on the table.
“Gotta hand it to you, Doc. A hot showeranda hot lunch?” I say as the ice cubes clink into the glass. “You really know how to show a girl a good time.”
Thankfully, he laughs, and I reach for the tea, grateful for something to cool the heat churning inside me.
“Lala’s not joining us?” I ask, noticing now that the table is only set for two.
“She’s not big on company. Loves cooking, loves hosting, but the social aspects aren’t really her thing.”
“You said she was an old friend of the academy?”
“Eighty-four and a day,” he says, dead serious.
“Wow. Glamour magick is a hell of a drug.”
“Lala is one of the most powerful witches in the country. In the world.” He watches me a moment, the wheels turning behind his eyes, as if he’s trying to decide whether to share a secret with me. Then, in a much softer voice, “She knew your parents, Miss Milan. I’m told she was one of the few who stood by them through the inquiry.”
My eyes widen, but Devane only shakes his head, already anticipating my next question.
“Lala only speaks when she believes she has something vital to say. Asking her questions, pressing her about her memories… It will only overwhelm her. I’m sorry. I just thought you might want to know that your parents, for all the persecution they suffered, weren’t entirely alone.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I nod my thanks. It’s all I can manage.
Dr. Devane has no idea how much it means to me. Not just to know that my parents had an ally during the darkest moments of their lives, but that he thought to tell me at all.
* * *
“I have no words for this.” I take another huge bite of taco awesomeness, salsa roja and melted queso dribbling down my chin. “And to think just a few hours ago I wasn’t sure I’d ever taste guacamole again.”
Lala may have the presence of a ghost, but she and Doc sure cooked up a feast while I was showering, and now I’m shamelessly inhaling third helpings while the professor watches across the table, his eyes sparkling with laughter.
He pushes a covered dish of rice and beans closer, waiting for me to load up before he starts on another serving himself. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but just beneath our relaxed and easy mood, I sense something festering.
“You okay, Doc?” I ask. “You’re being weird. Please tell me you’re not one of those men who expect their lunch companions to daintily nibble on lettuce leaves while you go beast-mode on fifteen tacos.”
He presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Miss Milan, if you nibbled on lettuce in the presence of authentic homemade tacos, I’d drag you out to the middle of the desert and leave you for the coyotes.”
“I’m glad we cleared that up.” I wash down another bite with a swig of iced tea, then say, “Now seriously, what’s going on in that mental-magick mind of yours? I get nervous when you think too much.”
“I suppose I am. Thinking too much, that is.” He flashes a smile, but it fades fast. He pushes his rice around with the fork, waits another beat before speaking again. “In prison, did the guards… Did any of them… Were you…”
I shake my head, sparing him the awkwardness of filling in the blanks. “They knocked me around pretty good, talked a lot of shit about what theycoulddo to me, but that was the worst of it. I think they were afraid of me. Afraid of my so-called murderous magick.”
Devane exhales in obvious relief, but he’s still gripping his fork so tightly, his knuckles are white.
