“And it will get easier next time, and every time after. You won’t blow something up every single time you use it, alright?” Jericho promised with that firm but patient tone.
This time I disagreed with him by shaking my head vehemently. “I don’t want to use it again,” I whispered. “I don’t want it to get easier. I just want it gone.”
“Liv, is this what’s going to break you?” he demanded. He tipped my chin up by gripping it firmly between his thumb and forefinger so I was forced to look at him. His hold was tight but when I obeyed his action, he swept his thumb across my bottom lip. The anger and resentment dropped immediately and my heart lurched in my chest at the sweetness of his gesture. “How long did you spend in that sick scientist’s captivity?”
“Two weeks,” I confessed with real, true tones of hatred and loathing. I was only twenty-one but these feelings I had for Terletov, this abhorrence and disgust, was the most real thing I’d ever felt in my entire life.
My body flashed hot and electrified. The force of that energy was back, buzzing in my blood and ringing in my head. But at the same time I felt my old confidence flare to life, too. I gulped in lungfuls of air and with it my resolve for revenge, my commitment to my sister.
“And were those two weeks easy?” he pressed.
“Jericho, you know they weren’t,” I glared at him. Now he was being cruel. “You know he tortured us. You know he tried to kill us.”
I spit out the words, even while an ugly, sinister whisper echoed something else. The truth was, he was doing the opposite of killing us. If these people were real, if they were telling the truth… then Terletov had risked our lives in order to fuse our blood with immortality. Whether we wanted it or not. But I couldn’t bring myself to think those thoughts completely through.
At least not yet.
He quirked a challenging brow at me. “So? You fought then, why are you giving up now?”
My head lifted a little higher, my eyes hardened with a little more resolve. “I don’t want this,” I hissed at him. As if I needed to remind him. I felt like I’d been saying that constantly for hours. “I don’t want to be like you. I just want to be normal. I want to be like I was before. And I want that for Ophelia, too. I didn’t ask for this to happen to me- to be changed. I just want to go home!” Tears were falling again, but these weren’t the same self-pitying tears as before, these were emoting frustration and determination.
I pulled my hands from his and balled them into fists in my lap. My chin quivered again, but just for the smallest second before I grappled back control of my body or as much control as I was given these days. Jericho watched me carefully as I pulled myself together. Slowly, but determinedly, I reigned in my emotions, choosing confidence over fear and strength over weakness.
I watched Jericho, too, as he sat before me, leaning in so that he consumed my entire field of vision. His dark hair had fallen over his forehead, just brushing over his equally dark eyebrows. His hair was that awkward length that was neither short, nor long. I doubted he used product, but there was enough volume and unruliness about it that I thought maybe he should use some. Not that his untamed hair diminished his looks, but it did something to them, distorted them in a way that made my breath quicken and my mouth go dry. His skin was olive-toned and perfect. His mouth was wide and full; his smiles came easily enough but so did his frown. His body a flawless specimen of male, testosterone and virility hovered perfectly toned in front of me. But it was his hazel eyes that truly held my attention. That was the only way to describe them. Sometimes they were so green they looked like cut emeralds. And sometimes they were such a deep, rich chocolate they seemed to liquefy in front of me. And then at other times they seemed to find the perfect balance of color between the two, a color not even present in real life, a color so complicated and luminescent that it couldn’t possibly be real.
That’s what color they were now. That indefinite blend of a priceless jewel and dark coffee.
The color of his eyes, more than anything else, nudged something immovable inside of me. I felt it crawl beneath my skin and fuse together with the other foreign entity living inside there. This man was Magic. He was Immortal. And maybe those things had something to do with the way he was looking at me. Or maybe he held the ability to look into my eyes and see me in a way nobody else ever could. But he didn’t just look at me. He devoured me with his gaze, with his presence, with his soul. He ate me up in a way that consumed me entirely. And I just sat there, bared, naked and confused.
“I’m not giving up,” I swore with the confidence he had given me back. “I won’t.”
“Good,” he tried to smile, but it wobbled unsteadily across his mouth. His gaze stayed in place, but his entire body tensed and jolted.
“Good,” I echoed. I jumped to my feet, feeling the atmosphere shift around us. This wasn’t innocent anymore. We weren’t safe together right now. Trying to change the subject, I looked down at him and demanded, “Show me what it does, Jericho. Show me how to use it.”
“Alright,” he answered gruffly. He hopped up to his feet and held out a hand.
“And don’t you dare go easy on me.” I ignored him, not feeling able to touch him just yet.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He shook his head but finally smiled at me.
And we were back to normal again. We were in familiar territory again. I exhaled a staggering breath and bit down on my bottom lip. I felt like I’d dodged something huge but I didn’t know exactly what that was yet.
And I couldn’t decide if I wanted to know.
We got to work. Immediately.
I was the kind of person that threw myself into everything. I had an unquenchable need to ensure that I was the best at everything I did. I was a perfectionist to an obnoxious degree, determined until I was blinded by my tasks and neurotic when it came to learning something new. Most people found me extremely hard to handle, especially when pitted against me.
I was ruthlessly competitive and I didn’t enjoy people standing in my way.
Running had always been an outlet for me. I liked the challenge of races. I liked to challenge myself to meet better times. But it was also therapeutic for me, sometimes even soothing. But most importantly, it was something I could do alone.
My grades and goals in life were what really drove me. And in the highly competitive field of culinary arts, I needed to be the best at everything in every way or I would fade into the background as a line cook at Denny’s. That was unacceptable.
And so was failing at this.
When the Magic didn’t instantly fly from my fingers again, I growled with frustration. When the Magic didn’t obey my every whim and command, I blew something up just to spite it. When Jericho didn’t explain something perfectly to me, I tried to turn my Magic on him.
“You know I can be just as dangerous, if not more so,” he threatened after I tried to start him on fire. Again.
I laughed loud and a bit out of control; there was an edge of hysteria to the sound. Mostly because he was right. He was infinitely more dangerous to me than I was to him. But still, he was trying to be funny and I appreciated that. An easy smile stretched across his face and made him look boyish and sexy all at the same time.
“Sure you can,” I agreed patronizingly. I shook my head and went back to trying to elevate chairs.
I had all but destroyed the ballroom during our “practice” session. Pieces of the walls and ceiling littered the floor in destroyed piles of plaster; the once-shining wood floor was coated in dust and debris with heavy chunks missing from its previously impeccable style. The stage set in the corner now modeled the Grand Canyon and all the glass from the patio door laid in shattered and jagged remnants scattered across the floor. The only thing that kept the winter’s biting wind from whipping through our space was the sealed tarp Jericho magically hung in place of the glassed panes.
I was pretty sure Eden and Kiran were going to be pissed. As ridiculous and unimaginable as it was to me,
this was their home… and I was all but destroying it.
I really tried to get nervous about that, but I just couldn’t find the will power or the effort to care. And Jericho didn’t seem at all worried about the destruction.
“I am very dangerous,” he promised in a low voice. He took a few steps toward me, distracting me from my current exercise. The chairs crashed back to the ground in heaps of rubble.
We barely noticed.
“I know,” I nodded enthusiastically. “You keep telling me that. I’m sure I’ll start believing you very, very soon.”
I took a step back from his advance, not exactly sure what he had in mind. I knew he was teasing about being dangerous, but in this moment he had never felt more hazardous.
And my fear had nothing to do with his Magic.
“Where are you going?” he asked with a sly grin. I stepped out of his reach again and felt my breathing accelerate in my lungs.
“Nowhere,” I promised. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” But he kept advancing and I didn’t trust his innocent expression.
Suddenly he lunged forward trying to grab me. I shrieked an embarrassingly girly sound and took off running. He sprinted after me, and I had to put everything into my muscles to stay just a step ahead of him. He was insanely fast and his long arms were reaching for me.
I tried not to laugh as I ran through the mess I created, leaping over piles of rubble and avoiding shattered glass that spread out across the floor like fallen confetti. Trying to catch him off guard, I flung my hands behind me and blindly tried to blast him with my Magic. I didn’t really want to hit him, but I did want to slow him down. He dodged it easily and waved what he couldn’t avoid out of his way with a simple flick of his own Magic.
I was a little shocked at how easily I’d picked up the Magic. It took a little while to get used to, but honestly I hadn’t even thought about using it before I threw it at him. There was an innate instinct attached to it that was somehow finding a home inside my violated body.
I’d known I had Magic at my disposal for mere hours and was already using it to my advantage. I didn’t like how quickly my mindset and goodwill toward immortality had altered, but I also didn’t feel like it was something I could stop. The Magic was part of my blood now, at least until I could get it removed. And by being so alive inside in my body, I had no choice but to accept it.
With another shot of Magic at his feet, I noticed my aim was getting better with all this practice.
He jumped over my relatively weak attempt and then used his own power against me. He trapped me there, frozen and still in the beam of his buzzing electricity.
My face contorted into amused surprise and even while I couldn’t use my arms or legs to run away, a laugh still bubbled out of my throat.
“Very nice,” I consented. “You win.”
“Yes, I do,” he walked towards me slowly. He spun me around so I had to face his advance. He was proud of this; his cocky satisfaction was written all over his smug face.
He came to stop right in front of me and just grinned at me. Idiot. I huffed out an impatient breath.
“Now show me how to do it,” I demanded. I was anxious to get out of this laser beam of Magic. I wiggled my shoulders against his unbreakable hold. I could feel his power all around me; I could feel his strength, his energy, his aura wrap around my body and hold me tightly to him. We were separated by a few feet, our bodies not even touching; but I felt pressed flush against the length of his body. The game had turned intimate somehow and I didn’t know how to go back to that friendly truce we’d reached before.
“Not a chance.” He shook his head at me and then stopped with only inches between us. I got the feeling he meant to intimidate me, but when we were so close his breathing picked up instead. My body felt electrified and charged in a completely different way than the Magic affected me. In a rough voice he said, “I kind of like you like this.”
“Oh, yeah?” I managed to ask in the barest whisper. I looked up from under my heavy lashes and met his heated gaze of perfectly blended hazel eyes with such a depthless intensity that captured me regardless of his Magic and held me utterly captive.
“Yeah,” he murmured softly. “You’re much easier to deal with. I bet the Titans upstairs would offer me their first-borns if I kept you like this all the time.”
The spell broke a little with his sarcasm and I shot him a derisive smirk, “They are such babies.”
His Magic dissipated around me and slowly I felt the control of my body return to me. We stood close still, neither one backing off. I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t wiggle my limbs to shake off the remnants of his lingering power. I felt hypnotized in place.
“They just don’t know how to handle you like I do.” He leaned toward me and his tongue swept across his lower lip. I gulped. Somewhere in the back of my mind there was a rational voice that was screaming at me to step away, to gain some breathing room, some rational-thinking room. But there was another part of me- a completely foreign and confused but most definitely feminine part of me- that pushed me into him, pulled me closer to his hooded eyes and wet lips. I felt my heartbeat pulse in my throat rapidly. My vision narrowed to his mouth, and only his mouth; my body seemed to tune into every perfect piece of him. His body heat wrapped around me in a lure all of its own and I wanted to explore it further- how hot his skin would be to touch, how the heat of his palms would scorch me if he were to lay his hands on me, touch me, hold me.
“You do know how to handle me,” I whispered almost curiously, thoughtfully. I wasn’t the kind of girl that responded well to “handling.” But with Jericho… he seemed to calm all those rebellious, stubbornly independent parts of me. I listened to Jericho. And truthfully, I didn’t listen to anybody.
I tilted my head up to meet his steady, heated stare. Now that he was standing so close to me, he towered over me. However, even though I was shorter than him, the tables seemed to have turned. He was entranced by me now. I held him still. He dipped his head just an inch closer to mine and I stopped breathing. There were no thoughts in my head, no sensible motives or logical intentions. This was so wrong- on so many different levels. I wasn’t here for a quick hookup. I was here for my sister- to get her better. To get me better.
And then I was gone.
Jericho had no part in my future and especially not in my present. I had bigger issues to deal with than a hot boy with magical powers that wanted to kiss me.
All of a sudden I was hot, needy and completely blind with lust.
I didn’t have room for Jericho in my life, but I wanted him.
At least for right now, this small, insignificant moment.
The need, the desperation grew too much, too fast. I had to find out what his lips tasted like. I simply had to or I would die. I knew that. I would die if he didn’t kiss me. If I could just-
An electrical pop sounded behind me and there was a blinding flash of mismatched color so bright that it stung my eyes and heated my skin. Just as quickly as it came, it disappeared with the sound of a palm hitting skin- my palm hitting his skin, as in cheek. I slapped him!
I was pretty sure I was more surprised than he was. Oops.
“Ow!” he growled, cupping his reddening face in his hand. I took a step back, not entirely unaffected by him even after my knee-jerk reaction to that surprising blast of Magic. “What was that for?” he demanded.
I wasn’t entirely sure… I had been in a trance with that almost-kiss. I really didn’t want any of that, yet he had mesmerized me with those seductive eyes and his perfect lips. And then all the color and tingling energy. I panicked.
But I couldn’t let him know that.
“You were going to kiss me!” I accused while doing my best to sound shocked and outraged.
“I-I… I was not!” he stammered. His face betrayed him and his eyes burned bright green. He took a step back and put a hand up. I wondered if he was afraid I would slap him again.
; “You were!” I hissed, finally feeling the full capacity of my anger.
He forced out a sarcastic, “Ha! You wanted me to kiss you. That’s what that was. You were trying to get me to kiss you!”
I struggled to swallow against that frustrating truth and took a moment to collect myself. Finally, I took a step back, a step further from his reach and threatened, “Don’t do it again, Jericho.”
“I wouldn’t!” He threw his hands up in the air when I shot him a “yeah right” glare. “I won’t!” He repeated. “You’re perfectly safe from present kisses or future ones.”
I struggled for just a second to compose my disappointed expression again, and then growled, “Good.”
“Good!” He all but shouted.
“Bout done in here?” Sebastian, Jericho’s friend, asked from the doorway.
Perfect. We’d had an audience. This castle grew more annoying by the hour.
Jericho spun around to meet Sebastian’s questioning stare. He looked idiotically amused and I suddenly had the urge to slap him, too!
“I need to check on my sister,” I declared and then stomped from the room, leaving the stupid boys behind in the wake of my ruin. Both literally and figuratively of course.
Sebastian watched me walk past him with a bemused smile that I chose to ignore. As soon as I was in the hallway, I heard him ask Jericho, “Your doing?”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the ballroom or my pissed-off air of escape. So I paused around the corner to listen to Jericho’s reply. I shouldn’t care what he had to say either way, but curiosity got the best of me. Except Jericho didn’t reply. It was Sebastian who spoke next.
“You look a little beat up,” Sebastian remarked.
“I feel a little beat up,” Jericho admitted.
“Are you going to clean this up before Eden finds it?” Sebastian asked sounding highly entertained.
Jericho grunted and then bit out a decisive, “Nope.”
“She’s going to be bloody pissed, my friend.” Sebastian sounded a little more sincere this time.