Anna stood over him, smirking. “Cathaire won’t tolerate your games.”
“Good thing I’ve got my very own pixie girl to train me, then,” he said. “Tell me about Morgan.”
The smirk disappeared.
“Apprentice!”
Anna snapped to attention as Cathaire strode their way. He frowned at David. “You need work.”
David pushed slowly to his feet and lamented the knowledge that he’d have to do this again, then again. Every damn day.
Cathaire gripped his shoulder. “We begin first thing tomorrow. I expect a modicum of effort, Galadaine’s heir.” With that, he bowed and made his way toward Sean.
Anna stripped off her guards and took off in the opposite direction. David drifted behind her, drawn by something he couldn’t quite name.
“David?” Autumn asked.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, gaze fixed to the back of Anna’s head.
They were nearly to the bridge before Anna spoke, though she didn’t bother to turn around. “I know you’re following me.”
“Seriously. What do you know about Morgan’s magic?” he asked instead of admitting to his crimes.
She flashed blue eyes at him. “I know it’s despised.”
David increased his pace, closing the gap so a mere yard separated them. “You said you studied it.”
Her wild landscape of emotions spiked with alarm. “I just meant I’d heard about it.”
“That isn’t what you meant.”
Anna jerked to a stop, and David drew up right behind her.
“What do you really want?” she asked.
He wasn’t sure, exactly, but she was of a rare subset of people—those who didn’t hate him—and he yearned for the knowledge in her head. Would she be willing to give it? He dropped his voice. “Teach me what you know.”
Surprise fluttered through her—an entire flock of butterflies so powerful, they nearly tickled his skin. He retreated from it.
Why were her emotions so tangible?
She spun, cocking her hip and laying those blue, blue eyes right on him.
David took one more step back. Subtly. Casually.
He was not unnerved. Definitely not. This was caution. There was something peculiar about this woman. Something rare.
“I don’t know much,” she said, tone hesitant.
“You know more than I do.” Before he could stop himself, the sugary silk drifted into his voice, and he added, “Teach me?”
The blue disappeared behind expanding pupils, and David chided himself. It was rare these days that the voice trick crept up unknowingly. Only when he really wanted something. When he was desperate.
“Alright,” Anna said. “What do you want to know?”
“Not here,” he said, voice still unwillingly laced with honey. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER 14
