Page 126 of Stone Temptation

A heavy thud sounded outside. Asher dropped his hands, moving away from me to investigate the noise. I shivered, the coldness of distance creeping in, the poisonous freezing from my vision echoing in my veins.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I kept clinging to the rail, not ready to be back on my feet just yet.

Five minutes. I just needed five minutes.

Count backward from a hundred.

I stared at the dead bodies on my floor, moving from a hundred to eight-nine.

“They’re inside?” Seth’s voice out there, about to be near me again.

He entered the lighthouse first, black fur coat swishing behind him. Asher followed.

“It isn’t safe for you to stay in the lighthouse,” the weaver announced. “You will both move into the tower for the time being.”

“Move into the tower?” I said. “But?—”

“That’s an order, Luke. And no more shifts at Midas Cherry until I deem it safe.”

“Ian will sack me.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

Why this caring crap?

“He’s safe with me,” Asher countered.

I expected Seth to mock him, throw out some cruelty, especially after this morning. Instead, he answered with a somewhat mournful tone.

“Until we have better answers, I would rather you both be in the tower. If only for one night.”

Asher’s fingers dug into my side. “Fuck.”

How could we possibly share space with Seth? Granted, the tower was big enough to share, but after everything he’d done? Damn.

My head pounded. I trusted Seth as much as reaper chilies in my belly, but he was right in this.

Ugh.

“Gather some of your things,” Seth said. “We’ll all leave together.”

“Come on.” Asher gestured for us to go upstairs.

As shit a situation as this might be, the proactive part of my brain flexed. There might be better access to mote enchanters in the tower. Also, I could explore with my invisibility, see if there were any handy recipes in the vaults.

On second thought, that might be an exercise in serious stupidity.

I gathered some clothes and toiletries, shoving them into a backpack.

“You alright?” Asher asked from my doorway.

I stopped, holding a pair of pink boxer shorts. “Do you think this is the threat?”

“Might be.”

“A group of humans in gas masks trying to kill me? What could be their motive?”

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