“Explain,” he demands, his eyes fiery once again. “Now.”
“I was hopingyoucould explain.”
No response.
“You’re the one who wanted a word with me,” I say defensively. “So what’s up?”
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Miss Milan. Averydangerous game.”
“I was doing what you asked of me. Defending my position.”
“That little charade you just put on?” He barks out a laugh. “I hardly call that defending your position.”
“I completed the assignment, did I not?” I shrug, hoping he doesn’t spot the tremble in my body. Maybe things didn’t go exactly as I intended—honestly, I was just going to ramble on with a little sexy paint-by-number story for the class, see if I could make Devane uncomfortable or embarrassed. He’s such a freaking rule-follower, I expected him to shut me down and move on to the next lesson before my story even gotcloseto the naughty parts.
But then the words no longer felt like my own, and suddenly I was tumbling headlong into the same vision I had with him back at the prison, each second evolving into something much more intense.
“When I met you—not two days ago—you claimed to have no active powers outside of witchfire,” he says. “How and when did you learn to dreamcast?”
“Dreamcast? I’ve never even heard of that.”
“Well, you just did it.” He rakes a hand through his hair, revealing that sexy hint of gray at the tops of his temples. “Dreamcasting is when you conjure a dream or vision for yourself, then pull your target into it by casting it into his mind. Eventually, the target will have no idea that the vision is coming from another person. It’s powerful, complex magick, highly unethical, and advanced beyond even our graduate teachings.”
I stare at him, mouth open, just as shocked by all this as he seems to be.
“You wove a spell,” he continues, “verbally and mentally, that essentially cast the vision from your mind into mine. A person could literally go insane from magick like that.”
“But I thought the ocean on the beach wasyourvision. From that day in the prison? Well, the wolf was new today, but all the other details were similar.”
“Ocean and wolf?” He shakes his head, his brows knitting together in confusion. “There was a lake. Today, and yes, that day in the prison too. I saw a lake before a circle of standing stones, and you were there… You were… you were bathing, taking off your clothes. You wanted me to…” He clears his throat and tugs at his tie. “To join you.”
My heart skips, and I force out a laugh to hide my nerves. “So you’re daydreaming about me taking off my clothes, andI’mthe one getting a lecture?”
No one speaks. The air feels impossibly heavy between us, crackling with an electric heat I can almost taste.
Saltwater, I think.
“I should fail you right now,” he finally says, shaking his head. “Boot you right out of this class and forbid you from re-enrolling until you can learn to take your studies seriously.”
“You don’t think I’m taking this seriously?” I take another step toward him and lean on the desk, closing the space between us. “You failed to establish any boundaries for this assignment, Dr. Devane. Then you pushed me into a corner and told me to fight my way out. To use all available resources and persuasive techniques to make the case—isn’t that what you told us to do?”
He grabs a stack of papers on his desk and shuffles through them, clearly flustered. “Regardless. Flirting with your professors is hardly a tool for—”
“Oh, I wasn’t flirting. I was making a point.” I grab the stack of papers from his hand, wait until he meets my gaze again. “So whether my words inspired your own vivid imagination, or I actually did that dreamcasting thing, the end result was the same.”
For the briefest instant, I let my gaze drop to his crotch, where the evidence of my persuasive techniques still stands at attention.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,DoctorDevane.” I return his papers, then heft my bag over my shoulder. “I need to get to my next class. As you’ve so cleverly ascertained, failing isnotsomething I care to do on principle.”
Twenty-Seven
STEVIE
My heart is still jack-hammering when I reach the third floor for my Potions and Charms class, and my breathlessness isnotfrom running up the stairs.
You’re playing a dangerous game here, Miss Milan. A very dangerous game…
His voice echoes in my mind, and it’s only by sheer force of will that I can even move my legs.
