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The room isn’t as big as you’d think when you look at it from the outside, it’s probably only a 10 by 10 foot room that’s filled to the brim with a heavy-set wooden desk that takes up most of one corner, a tiny couch probably to read on, and walls of just dark wood bookshelves, brimming with books. The entire room is colour coordinated and there is even a little coffee machine set on a lone, short bench off to the side that has a small sink.
“Wow, it’s like heaven in here,” I murmur, noting how a very fine layer of dust covers everything, but there is no apparent water or wildlife damage despite the lack of roof.
Foster tucks his wings behind him and they vanish.I’ve really got to ask him how he does that.He moves around the room, leaning in close to a few of the bookshelves to read some of the titles. “It’s definitely cosy. Most of these titles seem to be nonfiction and old, really old.”
I nod in acknowledgement to his words then tip my head back. “I’m assuming there was a barrier in place of a roof,” I say, working through my thoughts out loud. “I wonder if there is still a grounding element here somewhere that I can recharge.”
Foster tilts his head back and forth, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It might not be the best idea. If we activate it, and it won’t let us through, we could be killed or trapped.”
I nod, the thought already hitting me as he’s saying it. “Then I’ll just make my own. I’m also going to clean everything and fix the books.” Then I pause. I haven’t practised a lot with this sort of magic and I don’t want to risk damaging anything. Foster, who is watching me, catches my moment of hesitation and scans the space, his brown eyes seeming to take everything in.
“I can do it if you’d like, I’ve done stuff like this before,” Foster offers, quiet confidence radiating from him.
My eyebrows furrow as a small amount of tension rolls through me, but I nod and take a step back. “Okay.”
Foster focuses on a wall across from him, his brown eyes unfocusing then without his body moving even a millimetre, his magic swells in the room. I suck in a shaky breath, shoulders tensing as the richest vanilla I’ve ever smelled fills the room. It’s fantastic and I can’t help but take a deep breath. Vanilla is one of my favourite scents. I even keep vanilla scented candles in my room back home. I shake off the thought and focus on Foster’s magic, which is what I should have been doing this entire time.
His magic is weaving its way around the room in a dark blue crackling trail, leaving a dust-free, rejuvenated trail in its wake. As it brushes past me, blowing my hair back in a gentle gust, a chill rolls down my spine making me shiver. His magic has a distinctly playful feel about it and it has mine wanting to rise up and respond in kind.
When Foster is finished, I blow out a slow breath and focus on meeting his eyes when he turns around, trying to act like my magic isn’t jumping around inside of me giddily. His brown eyes meet mine and a faint flush dusts my cheeks, but he doesn’t question it so I act like I’m totally cool and scan the room. “It looks great,” I tell him honestly. It really does, it’s like everything has been refurbished to its original state. I walk up to a book and carefully open it up, body relaxing in relief when its pages hold firm, the paper silky and strong like it’s brand new rather than a relic.
“I also added individual stasis spells to each object in here that should last a few years before they need to be re-charged,” Foster adds, and my limbs turn to lead.
Guilt that I probably shouldn’t be feeling, but can’t seem to help, slams into me and I let out a slightly shaky breath at all the fun Foster and I have had together today. His mention of a stasis spell, while perfectly innocent, sends my mind on a downward spiral of all the ‘gifts’ I’ve been left over the last few weeks. The fuckingsevered headI was left this morning. I grimace, but quickly force a smile, attempting to appear normal to Foster. The reminder of everything—even though it was unintentional—has my mood souring and I can’t help but feel the sudden urge to leave. To go hide away in my room and be alone—after I check-in with Ridge that is.
I clear my throat and force my body to relax. “Thank you, Foster,” I say softly, then set the book down and tug out my phone, swiping through it. A message that I need to go somewhere seems like a plausible excuse, plus it’s getting late.
I contort my features into a concerned expression and quickly tap out a random message to send to Lexi, and deem that good. “I’m sorry, but I have to go, something has come up with one of my friends,” I say, then flick my eyes up to meet Fosters.
He stares at me, brown eyes intent for a few seconds like he can see through me. Through my lie and right into my soul, but by the twitch of his brow he doesn’t understand what triggered me enough to make me bail. Thankfully the man takes me bailing gracefully, and all he does is offer me a concerned look and a nod. “Of course, Nessa.”
This time when he flies me over the wall, I’m distracted and focused on what else I have to do tonight. One thing I have to do straight away is call Ridge to see how he’s progressing with the head. I tilt my head slightly before amending the thought. Slightly bashed in head. The face is definitely gone and I didn’t check for teeth that I could use to identify who it was before.
The slight jolt that moves through Foster as we land alerts me to the fact that we’re on the ground and I pull away with a thank you. I immediately turn my focus to erecting a barrier over the top of the strange room, sealing it against anyone other than me. At least now that I’ve been in there, I know that I can use a portal to get in and out of the room, and can come here to explore more if I want to.
The walk back to the edge of the illusion barrier that’s hiding this place is a tense one, and both Foster and I pause once we’re through it. The silence between us is slightly strained and I know it’s my fault. I puff out a harried breath, then throw the man a genuine smile. He’s been nothing but kind to me so I’ve got to snap out of it. At my expression, tension I didn’t realise was there eases out of Foster's posture and he offers me a tiny grin in reply.
I give him a wave and go to leave, but his hand on my shoulder stops me. He ducks down so his face is closer to mine, sending a cloud of vanilla over me. “Nessa, for what it’s worth, I had lots of fun with you today.” His words are smooth, and silky in a way that has me softening even more despite my worries.
“Me too, Foster.” Gnawing on my bottom lip I give him another wave then disappear into the trees, leaving him behind. I also throw up a bunch of barriers I know he can’t sense me through. Now that I’m aware he can trail me without my knowledge I will have to be more cautious. One more thing to check off on tonight, I tug my phone back out and tap on Ridges contact. Time to check on how that head is going.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nessa
Ifallbackintothe seat with a snort. “No shit, seriously?”
Dylan grins, blue eyes practically glittering as they study my face. “Yeah, seriously.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I can’t help but laugh. Who would have known—Dylan being in a Petó
Bála team when he was younger, it was not something I expected. I’ve seen the sport and even at a highschool level it is intense. It’s like a mixture of the Human Realms football, ice hockey and magic. “Did you enjoy it?”
His eyes land on the table, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I did.”
I cock my head, studying him. His openness and gentle body language only makes him more attractive to me. The gentleness to his expression as he thinks back on his time playing makes me want to curl up in his lap and cuddle with him. It’s an urge that not many people can draw out of me. I really am starting to let these guys past my emotional walls. I’m learning more and more about them every day and it’s intriguing. He looks up and catches me watching him. A light flush dusts his cheeks, but I don’t look away and he clears his throat, tension building around us. The dim lighting in the part of the library we’re sitting in, and the high bookshelves around us, make the space feel small and cosy.
I shift, placing my hands on the table between us, fingers curling around my open textbook, still holding Dylan’s eyes. Abruptly he clears his throat and looks down at his notebook, breaking the connection. His eyebrows draw low over his eyes as though he’s deep in thought and I blink repeatedly, drawing back slowly and swallowing hard. Damn, this neediness is getting out of control.Focus, Nessa. You’re supposed to be studying, not eye fucking him.
