Lennon’s. He must know I’m a witch. Which makes him a… what? Lennon doesn’t waste his time with mundane humans.
“Are you a mage?” I ask. “Shifter?” A fresh bolt of alarm shoots through me. “Oh, goddess… Please tell me you’re not a vampire trying to sweeten up my blood for the big bite.”
Jude laughs, then cocks his head, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what I am? I thought most witches could tell?”
“I’m not most witches. I’m… I was born without magic.” Heat crawls across my neck, making me itchy. No matter how many times I’ve had to say it out loud, it never gets any easier. “It’s kind of a long story.”
Jude lies back down again, crossing his ankles at the foot of the bed. From his jeans pocket, he removes a small wooden ring carved with some sort of leaf motif.
“Start at the beginning,” he says, flipping the ring across his knuckles. “And make it a good yarn, scarecrow. Succumbing to boredom isreallynot good for my temper.”
Chapter Thirteen
WESTLYN
I swallow hard, still trying to process what happened tonight. To remember. To get a read on the man who seems to have fallen straight out of my fantasies and right into my bed.
Well,hisbed, technically. But still.
I take another sip of the latte and sneak a peek at him from the corner of my eye. There’s definitely something dark and dangerous about him, an undercurrent humming along beneath the surface. But for whatever reason, I don’t feel threatened by him.
In fact, I feel safer than I’ve felt in a long time.
“I’m what’s called an augmenter,” I say. “A witch with no active powers. I can read Tarot cards, connect with certain animals, things like that. Once in a blue moon, I’ll get vibes off an object—like, I might be able to tell you something about the last person it belonged to. But I can’t cast spells, can’t heal, can’t conjure or curse, can’t manipulate shadows. Just about the only thing I’m good for—magically speaking, anyway—is amplifying the power of other witches and mages.”
“Amplifying? But how does that even work? If you’ve got no power of your own, how can you boost someone else’s?”
“I’m still a pureblood witch, which means I’m a magical being, even if I can’t harness that magic myself. Any part of me—hair, fingernails, and especially my blood—can be used in other people’s spells and rituals. And because I’ve never cast any magic on my own—never dipped into the well, so to speak—I’m considered untainted.”
“You’re a virgin,” he teases.
My cheeks flame. “Amagicalvirgin. Not the same thing.”
“Good to know.” That wicked grin slashes across his face, sending another pulse of heat to my core. “So how does a magical virgin end up betrothed to the demonic son of the all-powerful Archmage of Man-fucking-hattan?”
I drain the last of the latte and lower the mug to my lap, blowing out a breath. “My father used to be a powerful mage, too. His name opened a lot of doors in the community, but… he also has a gambling problem. Over the years, he lost all his allies, all his dignity, and racked up a lot of debt with the kind of people who aren’t big on extended payment plans. I really thought they were going to kill him, too. But then out of nowhere, the Archmage made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
He stops flipping the ring, his face turning serious. “He sold you. Your own father sold you to pay off his debts.”
“And to secure an alliance with the Archmage.” I tighten my grip on the mug. “He’d have no standing in the community without it.”
“And Mum was okay with this?”
“Stepmom, yes. My real mom died giving birth to me.”
A flicker of sympathy passes over his features, but then it’s gone and he goes back to twirling his ring. “So daddy gets a check and clean slate. Stepmum reaps the benefits. But what’s in it for Forsythe? No offense, scarecrow—I’m sure you’d make a lovely daughter-in-law. But so would a lot of other witches in this city. Why you?”
“That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it?” A chill races down my spine, and I burrow deeper under the sheets. “I thought they just wanted an augmenter for their son. A witch they could control—one they knew would obey orders and be a good, submissive little wife. But that was before I knew about the demon.”
“You never saw him before?”
“I only met Hunter twice before tonight, and both times helookedlike a mage, but what do I know? He looked like a mage tonight, too. It wasn’t until our blood mixed that I knew something was wrong. As soon as we touched, it felt like fire shooting up my veins, straight into my heart. I could hear his name in my head—Zorakkov.” I shiver again at the memory. “Goddess, I really thought he was going to cook me alive.”
“I heard you gave him the business end of a blade.” Jude laughs, but I’m already shaking my head.
“I stunned him. Bought myself just enough time to run. But an injury like that wouldn’t even kill a low-level demon, let alone one with the backing of the Archmage. All I did was put an even bigger target on my back.” I close my eyes and tip my head back against the headboard. “Stupid, stupid girl.”
“Hey, give yourself some credit, scarecrow. You escaped a demon. Fled from your own family. That takes some serious lady balls.”
