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“Well,” I say, “The only one I see out here is you. And since when can I not walk my own lands? Honestly, Blake.” I roll my eyes. “Just because I’ve been living in New York doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself.”
His expression hardens. “Yes, but against who?”
“What the hell are you going on about? Would you quit being so cryptic?” I’m really not sure what this macho male crap is, but I don’t care for it one bit.
“Cryptic? That’s rich.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, which makes his muscles bulge. Because he’s wearing nothing but a black T-shirt, even though it’s about 30 degrees out. I try my best not to stare. Men in New York just don’t look a thing like Blake Blackstock.
I get to my feet and face him. “If you have something to say, then just say it,” I growl.
“The Night Guild?” He narrows his eyes. “You’re the one who needs to do the talking here, Tamsin.”
My stomach does a little flip. Shit. “How did you know?”
“I hardly think that’s the important point right now.”
He glares at me, and I glare back. I really don’t like this arrogant, asshole Blake. I much prefer my memories of our youth together.
“They threatened me and my family, I took care of it,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I told you it was best if you didn’t know. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
“Danger?!” Blake throws his arms in the air, then laces his hands behind his head and turns in a circle, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Do you think I wouldn’t help you because of that?” Heat pours off him, his magic spiraling up into the sky in cornflower blue streaks.
“Frankly, Blake, I didn’t want to see you at all while I was here, okay?”
It comes rushing out of my mouth before I can stop it, and Blake freezes, staring at me. He drops his hands to his sides.
“Ahh. Well, at least you’re being honest now, Tams,” he says, his tone a simmer like hot coals.
His use of my old pet name feels like a knife in the heart. “Blake…” I reach out and touch his arm, which causes another flash of magic. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how exactly did you mean it?”
I want to tell him I’m sorry for how I left things. That running away, forgetting, was the only way I could cope as a teenager. That it still haunts me.
But I’m no good at sharing my feelings. I’d shut those away long ago, just like my magic.
“Great explanation,” he growls as I stand there, mouth open, trying to think of something to say. “Makes total sense.”
He pulls his arm back and stalks away from me. Thistle lets out a low whine.
When he’s a dozen strides away, Blake spins to face me. His blue eyes glow against the dull cloudy sky.
“You shouldn’t have come back here,” he says.
Then he shifts back into dire wolf form and is gone in the blink of an eye.
