Ink & Quill

Chapter 8

 ~ Sylas ~

I stare at the man in the bathroom mirror. He's got mousy brown hair, brown eyes behind a pair of unfashionable glasses, and wears a faded brown shirt that lessens the contrast of his pale skin. I smile, and he smiles, and I finally convince myself that I am, indeed, looking at myself.

Jaxon appears at my back and nods approvingly.

"Looks good. Did you take the tincture yet?"

"Yep. Half hour ago. Can you tell?"

He squints at my reflection and shrugs. "Nope. Must not work on me." Sliding his hands around my waist, he leans against my back and kisses the side of my neck. "You're still beautiful, in my eyes."

My reflection and I share a look, but I twist around and give Jaxon a smile.

"You, too," I say, running my hands over his hair, which is a little longer now, and over the rough prickles of his two-week's growth of beard.

His grasp on me tightens, and he presses me against the sink at my back.

Tilting my head, I invite him to kiss me. Carefully, he slides the glasses from my face and sets them aside before touching his lips to mine. He tastes like mint.

As I yield to him, he makes a low noise in his throat, like a satisfied lion over prey, and he slides his hands from my waist down to my hips.

Gently, I push him away, breaking our kiss.

"Jaxon. Enough. We have to leave soon."

He goes still, but rather than release me, he tightens his grip.

"Have you been Crafting again?" he asks, his voice breathy and deep, and a little accusatory.

"What?" I blink in surprise, leaning away and treating him to a frown. "No. Of course I haven't."

His eyes search mine. "Then why do I want you right now?"

My frown deepens. "Maybe you should tell me."

"Oh, that's right," he murmurs, and winks cheekily. "It's 'cause I'm in love with you."

"Jaxon," I sigh, but laugh at the same time. "We really need to go, or I'll be late for class. You can try to get in my pants later."

"Is that a promise?"

"Tell you what," I say, putting my fake glasses back on, "behave yourself, and maybe tonight I'll Craft you something to help you sleep."

He gives me a final squeeze and lets me go.

"I don't think you'll need magic for that," he says solemnly, and presses one last, gentle kiss to my lips.

✧ ✧ ✧

In truth, moments of levity like this are rare. Jaxon's playfulness—such as it is—has all but vanished in the week since our last meeting with Aurelio. Most of the time he broods, radiating tension and worry, which does little to ease my anxiety.

On the drive into the city that morning, he grips the wheel so hard I'm worried he might rip it from the steering column.

"Maybe you should take one of Aurelio's drops," I suggest, only half-jokingly. Whatever other magics he'd laced it with, Aurelio's tincture of chamomile and passion flower really did seem to give me a sense of calm.

"Nah. Nerves give me an edge," he says. "Keep me alert."

"Okay." I shrug. "But you look like you're about to snap. Maybe not the best impression for your first day at a new job."