Page 102 of De-Witched

Her reaction ate at him. He’d said something wrong. He’d hurt her.

With a burning hole in his gut, he returned to the couch, biding his time until Melly had hugged him and left with Sloane to portal back to New Orleans.

When he turned, he discovered Leah had wandered onto his small balcony, leaning on the wrought iron as a breeze played through her hair.

He quickened his pace outside. “You shouldn’t be so close to the edge,” he warned.

Humans couldn’t conjure anything to save themselves. One slip and she’d be hurt.

Fragile. She denied it, but it wouldn’t take much, and she could be gone. It was enough to have him move to her side, prepared to grab her if she so much as teetered.

She sent him a smile over her shoulder, but with no real sparkle. “Always taking care.”

“You do have a habit of needing rescue on balconies.”

At the reference to their first meeting, her smile gained some warmth. He felt it in his soul.

“As I recall,” she said, shifting to watch him, “I didn’t need rescuing.” She tilted her head. “When did you figure it out?”

“The night you almost kissed me.”

It made her choke. “I think actually you almost kissed me.” She chuckled, glancing at the view. “I wonder if we’d have got here without that first meeting.”

“You shouldn’t have been there.” It had been so dangerous, it still made his heart stop.

She stilled, then nodded. “You’re probably right.”

And that was off, too. Leah didn’t passively accept what she should or shouldn’t do. She pushed, fought for what she wanted.

He watched her in the darkness, the glow of the inside lights painting that false expression. “I did something,” he said abruptly. “What?”

She tipped her head back to the stars. “So far away,” she murmured. “You ever think just how far away the stars are? How out of reach.”

“Not especially.” Impatient, he set his hand on hers where it curled around the railing. “Tell me.”

One last look at the sky, and then she faced him, studying his face with the same contemplative expression. “Are you ashamed to be with me, Gabriel?”

Shock punched into his chest. “I beg your pardon?”

She didn’t move. “Ashamed. I’m human, after all. And you’re the Warlock of Contempt.”

He pulled his hand back. For once, he didn’t make any effort to guard his expression from her. “I didn’t cultivate that. And I don’t particularly care what others think of me. I thought you understood that.”

“I know you say you don’t care,” she said, more to the railing than him.

“I don’t.”

She angled her head toward him. “Then why don’t you want your sister to know about us?”

“What?” Confusion twisted as he frowned at her. “Melly already knows.”

It wasn’t hard to read the shock that jerked her back. He wasn’t sure why she was so stunned. As awkward as it might be, he wasn’t going to hide Leah from the one person who’d always been in his heart. Melly and he never had secrets.

Leah’s eyebrows threaded. “Then why... Earlier, you said...”

He recalled the moment, relieved it was so simple to explain. “It’s uncomfortable for me. Open affection.” Honesty compelled him to add, “And it’s hard having a younger sister ask questions you don’t know the answers to.”

Like where this was going. Except he knew the answer to that. He just didn’t like saying it aloud.

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