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“It’s tied to base needs, too. Hunger, thirst, pain. Desire.”
“Fascinating,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping back to the paper. She draws a few lines. “So when elemental magic rises in your blood, you feel more pain. And… desire. What’s that to do with me?”
“Everything,” I whisper, and she glances up.
“Are you saying you want me because of magic? How flattering.”
“Who said I want you?”
She sighs. “And how unsurprisingly rude.”
Wantingis too small a word for how my body strains toward her. Is it the magic? I don’t know. I’ve been around magical creatures all my life, including a witch on one memorable occasion, but this never happened before.
Then again, these surges and attempts on my life, including demonblood-dampening spells, never happened before, either.
“Here,” she says, getting up and plonking the piece of paper on my desk. “All done.”
“What? In less than five minutes you managed to capture my stunningly sexy naked body?”
“You’re wearing pajama bottoms,” she points out, not looking at me. “And a robe. You’re hardly naked.”
“I can take them off.”
“Sindri…”
“Just Sin,” I say. “Like the sins of your fathers.”
“That sounds…”
“Accurate?”
She tsks. “Kind of weird, I was about to say.”
I sigh and push to my feet. Even the wound at my side isn’t hurting much right now and I feel as if my bare feet are floating off the ground. I laugh a little to myself as I make my way to the desk.
“What’s funny?” she whispers. “Oh my God, you’re high as a kite, aren’t you?”
“What would you know about that?”
“I’ve seen my fair share of junkies at the Church.”
“Hm.” I pick up her drawing, frown down at it. “That’s supposed to be me?”
“Hey, smartass, I’m not Picasso, okay? Just doing my assignment.”
“But surely you could have put in some more passion and dedication. My fey heart is broken at the lack of artistry and skill.”
“Screw you, Sin.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I prop my hip against the desk. “Okay, now it’s your turn to pose for me.”
“What? No way.” She actually takes a step back. “You drew me in class. We’re done.”
Is she so scared of me? “That drawing wasn’t for the project, it was…”
“For what?”
For me, I think. I put her drawing down. “Why are you always running away?”
