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The man with the painting.
“Then you walked in, and you were so self-assured and confident.”
“I...thank you?”
“Don’t fucking talk,” Brent snapped. He tightened his grip on her throat, reminding her who he was.
Reminding her who she was.
“I thought it was strange your drinks weren’t alcoholic at the bar.”
She opened her mouth, but he raised an eyebrow, and she slammed it shut.
“You were so intent on getting me drunk that I wanted to see how far it would go.”
Well, maybe she wasn’t as good as she’d thought that she was.
“My phone wasn’t working most of the evening, which was strange, but it suddenly decided to power back on during our ride back from the bar.”
Crap.
The spell had worn off. Sometimes they did that. As a mage, Tabitha could do some incredible things: she could move things and create energy balls. She could do so many wonderful spells, but technology was hard to manage. It was strangely tricky. Sometimes spells involving tech wore off faster than they were supposed to.
Brent kept talking, though.
Apparently, he wasn’t done.
“Imagine my surprise when, during the Uber drive back here, my contact texts me and tells me what happened. Not only did his car break down, but apparently, he had bad directions, as well, so I had to ask myself, what are the chances of that happening tonight?”
Tabitha was silent.
“What are the chances of my meeting going south, and then a beautiful woman walking into the same restaurant where I was supposed to be dining?”
She blinked, looking at him.
Brent seemed more menacing now. He definitely should have brought out this side of himself before. “Bad boy” was much more interesting on him than weepy nerd.
“Can I speak now?” Tabitha finally whispered.
Brent nodded.
“Good,” she said. “Alarosemai.”
Instantly, Brent went flying back against the wall, and she brushed herself off.
“First off, I don’t appreciate the shitty attitude,” she said, staring at him. Then she realized he was passed out. Well, awesome. She’d thrown him harder than she’d intended to. The intensity with which she said a spell impacted its power.
Usually, alarosemai was a spell used for pushing things back or repelling them, but she’d just intended to get him far enough away to loosen his grip.
Apparently, her mouth had other plans.
She sighed and went to the bed. She hoisted her dress and climbed up to look at the painting at the head of the bed.
“Beautiful,” she murmured. It really was lovely. The painting featured a dragon flying high above a mountain. It was soaring up, up into the sky. The sun was setting, and the rays were painted perfectly.
She really hated moving it because she was worried that she’d damage the paint. Unfortunately, Tabitha didn’t have much of a choice. She also didn’t have much time.
Who knew how long it would be until Flannigan woke back up?
