Page 12 of The Banshee and the Warlock

"They're sensitive." He drops the glamour.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I invited you to touch me." He grins at me in a way that makes me think it was all part of his elaborate plan to do that.

"What do we do next?" I ask, gesturing to the cauldron.

"Huh, and here I was thinking you were going to ask me why I didn't keep up the human glamour all the time."

"I can ask that if you want, but I figured the answer was either that it was too much effort to maintain it, or that you like the way you look and want to feel like you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Interesting observation. We just let the cauldron simmer for another five minutes."

"Great." I pull over my stool. "So which is it?"

He shrugs. "A little of both, I guess. It does take constant magic, but it's not too much hassle so long as I can have a few chances to let the glamour drop. For the most part, I don't see it as necessary to have one."

"I'm glad you don't. I like this form," I blurt out before realising what it might reveal about what I think about him. Then again, maybe I shouldn't feel too strange about that, there has to be a reason he asked me if I had a boyfriend. Maybe our reasoning is the same.

"Good." His eyes flash purple despite the fact he's not doing any magic.

Someone clears their throat, and I look up to find Professor Fairburn looking down at our cauldron.

I take a deep breath, hoping she isn't about to say that we've done a good job.

"Adequate," she says with a nod of her head. "Don't forget to clean up your bench." She walks away before either of us can say anything.

"That's us told," I mutter, picking up the chopping board and knife.

"Let me, I don't want you to cut yourself again," Cethin says.

"Even if it'll give you another excuse to touch me?" I half-joke.

He chuckles. "If that's an invitation, I'll gladly accept."

"Maybe." I turn towards the sinks at the edge of the room, my heart racing at the implication of my response. I've never had a reaction as strong as this to anyone before, and I'm not entirely sure where it's coming from. But I do kind of like the way that he's looking at me.

And the way he touched me. It definitely makes me want to experience that again.

Chapter 6

Cethin

I look up from my book and out of the window, surprised by how late it's gotten. I should get back to my room before it gets too late, or I'm going to be tired for my early morning lecture tomorrow. Not to mention that this part of the academy isn't supposed to be open to students at this time of night.

I close my book and slide it into my bag. I open and close my hand, bringing forth a puff of purple smoke, sending it out in front of me. That should do the trick of telling me if anyone's around. The last thing I want is for one of the academy staff to run into me and end up being punished when I had every intention of not being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

There's always a chance that my spell won't be enough. I don't know what magic most of them have access to, and that could mean that they ended up spotting me just from the spell I did. I can't worry about that now, though. If I get caught, I get caught. There's nothing I can do about it, and I'll just have to deal with the consequences if I do. I'm sure they're not going to throw me out of the academy for being in the wrong place one time.

I pass the opening to one of the courtyards and feel a strange tug in the pit of my stomach, urging me to stop and head inside. I don't think I've ever felt anything like that before and find myself turning without thinking about it.

A pale figure with flowing silver-white hair and a long white shirt appears in the archway at the other side of the courtyard, and for one horrible moment, I think I'm seeing a woman's ghost.

The woman stumbles into the light, illuminating familiar features and causing the urge to enter the courtyard to deepen.

Anja.

Mate.