Midnight Mage

23

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I stiffened as cool fingers trailed across my bare shoulder. Riven said silkily, “Tell Ian that his interest in Alfea is appreciated, but she’s happy here.

Isn’t that right, mo spréach?” Fingertips teased the hair over my ear and my eyes went a little crossed.

“Yes,” I whispered, then cleared my throat, heat rising to my face. So much for poker nights. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Accosi.”

Ethan was no longer smiling as he stood and offered a stiff nod. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said and strode away.

I turned in my seat, dislodging Riven’s touch, and glared at him. “I thought we established that I can take care of myself, Prime Thorne.”

He smiled slightly, without mirth, at my use of the honorific. “Did you notice his aura?” I frowned. “Yes. I’ve never seen anything like it. Sapphire and violet.”

“He’s in the final stage before transition to Opal. Already a formidable mage, he will soon become Adam’s equal.”

“And he works for the Southern Prime?”

“Not exclusively. He’s worked for me as well, once or twice. Ethan is an equal opportunity contractor.” His gaze lifted over my head and went distant. “Were you tempted, Alfea?”

“By what? A spelled business card that would have done God knows what to me?” I shuddered. “No. I wasn’t tempted.”  

His gaze lowered to my face. “There will be more offers. Ones I cannot match.”
I slid from the chair and stood, needing to even the playing field a bit. Even with the heels, he was still a good two inches taller than me, but at least I wasn’t craning my neck anymore.

“I’m here, with you, for one reason only,” I said firmly. “To find my dad. When I do, I’m going back to my life. Until then, I’d appreciate it if you stopped touching me so familiarly. This hot and cold routine is giving me whiplash.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Samantha heading our way. “You’re date is waiting, Prime Thorne.”

“Whiplash?” he asked, lips twitching.

The sight of his almost-smile was like a ray of sunlight piercing the clouds. My expression must have given something away, because Riven froze, then turned and walked away.

“Whiplash,” I whispered to myself and went in search of fresh air.

THE STORM SIMMERING the past few days had finally boiled over. As I stepped onto a covered terrace on the second story of the hotel, a gust of wet air hit me in the face before the wind shifted, driving the downpour away from stone balustrades. Shivering, I crossed to the southwest corner, as yet spared the wind’s notice.

The rain fell in sheets, thick and urgent. On the street below, headlights and taillights diffused into refractive blurs against the adjacent buildings and sidewalks. A distant flash of brightness in the sky was followed by a clap of thunder.

My arms tingled.

Live to be free, whispered the memory of my dad.

“You’re in pain.”

My heart catapulted into my throat as I spun to face Ethan Accosi. His aura was a dim glow around his shoulders, bathing his features in a sinister light. His posture, at least, was nonthreatening, hands tucked into pockets as he leaned against the opposite railing.

“I’m fine,” I said shortly.

“You’re shackled, Alfea. Virtually imprisoned by the Omega.”