Page 3 of The Succubus's Song

“Have you been to bed yet?”

His voice dropped a little. Mara shook her head.

“No,” she sighed, suddenly very focused on her breakfast. “It’s getting worse.”

“A lot of us never stopped being nocturnal, Mara,” Emmett pointed out towards the library. “That’s why the library has always been open twenty-four hours.”

“It’s not just about being fucking nocturnal,” Mara snapped, and her teeth and nails elongated as her temper flared. Emmett was unaffected, calmly taking a long sip from his coffee cup. He reached back into his desk drawer, and Mara’s frustration evaporated.

“Emmett, you cannot offer everyone a biscuit whenever they’re upset. It’s not even eight o’clock in the morning.”

Emmett shrugged, unperturbed, already abandoning his breakfast sandwich in favor of munching on shortbread. The sight of such a massive man munching away on tiny cookies never failed to make Mara smile.

“I’ve yet to find a situation in which shortbread doesn’t help.”

“You’re insane.”

“You’ll be fine,” Emmett insisted, dusting some crumbs off his sweater. Mara’s mood dipped again as she fought off a yawn.

“Don’t stay up all day and torture yourself.” Emmett’s tone hardened. “Go get some rest.”

“Then I’ll be up all night again.” Mara growled, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat. “I won’t get any work done.”

“I don’t care when you get your work done. We both know you’ll get it done in the end. I care that you’re running yourself ragged.”

“You’re fussing.”

“It’s my job to fuss now, apparently.” Emmett gave Mara a pointed look. “Are you really going to make my job harder and fight me on this?” He was practically pouting as he stared at her, and Mara acquiesced.

“Don’t you pull those fucking puppy dog eyes at me,” Mara grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. Mara assisted Emmett in the library as an archivist. Her work didn’t involve teaching classes, and there was no reason that she couldn’t do it at night; something they both knew.

Emmett let out a long sigh, running a hand over his face as he studied her. When he spoke, his voice was gentle.

“I know what you’re afraid of. You’re not your family, Mara.”

Mara stood up with supernatural speed, fighting back the temptation to hiss in Emmett’s direction.

“And I won’t ever fucking be like them,” she growled, storming out of Emmett’s office and refusing to listen as he called out after her.

CHAPTER TWO

“McEwan! Where the fuck is your head today?”

Finley groaned and wiped the sweat off his brow. His coach’s sharp reprimand did very little to break through his brain fog.

Get your shit together! Finley growled at himself in a harsher tone than any of the coaching staff ever used. Which was pretty harsh, if you’d ever heard a Scottish football coach in the middle of a match that wasn’t going their way. Finley was a midfielder for the Heart of Midlothian F.C., but his game had been off for weeks.

“Sorry, coach,” Finley shouted apathetically, raising a hand in acknowledgment. The coach muttered something that Finley didn’t catch, but he didn’t need to read lips to know an expletive when he saw one.

“Go home,” his coach snapped, “and if your head isn’t on straight tomorrow, do me a favor and don’t come back until it is.”

Finley kept the hurt off his face and nodded, jogging off the field while trying to ignore the sympathetic looks from his teammates. It was only a practice, but Finley knew that his game had been off for weeks, and he didn’t know why.

You know why. His incessant thoughts cut him off. Magic. Magic and…Mara. Finley’s heart lifted even at the thought of her name, and he squashed the impulse just as quickly.

“Hey, man, seriously. Are you okay?” Ronan, Finley’s teammate, came up behind him and clapped him on the back.

Am I okay? I have no idea.

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