Page 14
Well, Kole says, at least we’re inside. That was the aim wasn’t it?
I frown at him and extend both wrists, turning them over to examine the leather cuffs that bind them. They still hurt. A lot.
Not without the ability to use magick.
Kole takes my wrist, raises it to his mouth and kisses above the leather gently. Then he kisses my palm. His lips are cool against my skin.
I fold myself into his arms and sigh deeply. This was not how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to be able to do anything. Able to fix anything.
But it’s as if – now the Prophecy is complete – I’m back to being the same useless new witch I was before I became powerful.
No control.
No power.
I was on the verge of learning to harness it. Our little game on the plane helped. But I needed more. So much more. And there wasn’t time.
Kole examines our cell, sweeps his eyes and his hands over every inch then says, “We’re not being watched. I don’t think this place even has electricity.”
“So we can…?”
“We can talk.”
I sigh a little with relief, because sharing thoughts leaves us both drained.
“The others will come up with a plan,” I tell him, meeting his dark inky eyes.
“Let’s hope so.” Kole lets me go and walks over to the door. He presses his ear against it then stands back. “Because we need to get out of here before Zephyra decides to start leeching your blood.”
“What will happen if she does?”
“If she does… if she adds your blood to her product…” Kole shakes his head and clenches his fists. “You saw what happened to me the first time I tasted you.”
I swallow hard, the memory both strangely exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
“If Zephyra’s clients consume even a drop of your blood… we could have a pandemic of out-of-control vamps on our hands.”
7
NOVA
“Would she want that?” I slide down the wall and tuck my legs up beneath my chin, curling my arms around them and wincing as the cuff moves and static spikes between the leather and my skin.
“She wants them addicted to her product. She wants them coming back for more.” Kole is pacing, unable to sit down. He keeps looking at me with an expression on his face I can’t read. Is he pissed? At me for putting us in this position? Pissed at himself? Or is he thinking about her?
Jealousy closes its icy fist around my stomach and makes me shift uncomfortably.
“If they’re out of control… that will be bad for business, surely?” I tilt my head from side to side.
It’s dark, and my eyes are struggling to adjust. Normally, I’d light a fire. Right now, though, I’m worried that whatever I conjure will end up killing us both.
An out-of-control fireball in this small enclosed space would be a disaster.
And what if it exploded? Just went BOOM and blew us up.
What if I ended up accidentally flaying Kole like I flayed Johnny?
Thinking of Johnny – as always – makes my throat constrict and the scar on my chest burn. Not with heat but with pain. Or, at least, with the memory of pain.
