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“So why did you…”
My words trail off, and a groan leaves my lips when I stupidly catch on much too late.
“Thad told you,” I sigh.
I drop back to lie down and join him in staring at the ceiling.
“He sort of had to. I never would have given you anything, Kimber. I’ve had friends and relationships for a very long time without divulging any information at all. But these are special circumstances.”
And now I feel absolutely pathetic. His view on me is already so low.
“Well, you officially know my biggest weakness.”
He chuckles lightly, then he nudges my side. “You’re welcome to ask me mine if you think it’ll level the playing field.”
“You sure you want to tell me out loud?” I mumble, silently cursing Thad.
“I cast a spell to keep all the sounds inside this room before I even walked in.”
I look over to see his cheeky grin, and I find myself smiling instead of burrowing to China the way I want to. But my smile fades quickly when I realize what all this really means.
“So now you really won’t ever think I can handle this mission now. Will you?”
He leans over and brushes the hair away from my face, and for a fleeting moment, I forget what we’re even speaking about. He shouldn
’t hold this much power over me.
“On the contrary, now that I understand things about you, I realize that it’s my place to make sure you get the answers you need. That’s the only way you can kill the fixation.”
I sound like damaged goods. This really can’t get any worse.
“So what is your biggest weakness?” I ask, but only to shift the subject. The mystery of it isn’t enough to draw me in.
“The same thing that is my biggest strength. My powers.”
Okay, so that is definitely enough to draw me in.
I spin over to face him again, resting my head on my hand.
“Elaborate, dark boy.”
He laughs while shaking his head. “Dark boy? Way to be original.”
His golden skin piques my interest once more, and I don’t stop myself from reaching over and touching one of the other tattoos, tracing the black ink. He sucks in a breath that almost has me smiling.
He doesn’t move my hand or stop me, but he doesn’t react in any other way.
“Well?” I prompt, moving up to another tattoo and tracing the new lines.
“Well what?” he asks hoarsely, clearing his throat immediately after, and I smile a little bigger.
“Elaborate,” I repeat.
He focuses his attention on the ceiling once again, and I continue moving my finger all over his lines of ink, then I play with the clean lines of skin.
“You of all people understand what happens when someone has more power than what is natural.”
My finger stops, and I look up just as his eyes come down to meet mine.
