Page 121 of De-Witched

Oh, well. She’d done it now.

“Even if it’s not true,” she hedged, toying with the wisps of hair at his nape. “You could say you’ll miss me.”

“Will you miss me?”

Careful, she cautioned. “Maybe.”

“Your enthusiasm stuns me. Please, let me take a moment to recover.”

She pinched his neck. “Okay, fine. Yes.” Her voice turned soft. Sincere. Too much so. “Yes, I’ll miss you, Gabe.”

Before she could regret it, he leaned in, pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ll miss you, too,” he said, deep, grave. The simple words winged into her heart.

It gave her the courage to unlock her own. “What if we didn’t end things?”

He stilled. Three seconds counted down before he spoke. “What do you mean?”

Her pulse picked up as she drew back. “I just... I know some humans are accepted into your world. What if I was one of them?”

He said nothing, his face betraying nothing. It felt like a chill across her skin.

Everything in her wanted to curl into a ball, to hide, to retreat. But this was too important to risk not opening herself up. He was as guarded as she could be. One of them had to take the first step.

Even so, she withdrew her hands, fisting them on her lap. “There’s something here,” she said. “Something real. You said you’d miss me—what if you didn’t have to?”

When his silence continued, she felt words scrape her throat with the need to fill it. Her nails pinched her skin as she curled her hands tight. “There are humans in your company and at some point another witch must have wanted a human. It must be possible to—appeal?” She wasn’t sure of the word, wasn’t sure of anything except that Gabriel didn’t look like a man given the key to his heart’s desire. She pushed. “I could swear not to tell anyone, if we could just go to the High Family—”

“No.”

That one syllable snapped her back. Her chest shuddered as she stared at him. “No?” she echoed.

He moved then, fast, before she’d realized he would. He wore only boxer briefs but he may as well have been wearing one of his suits. His expression was set as he stood next to the bed.

“We will not be going to the High Family,” he intoned, voice razor-sharp in its directness. “The idea is ridiculous.”

She chose to stay seated, wasn’t sure if her legs would hold her. “The idea of being with me is ridiculous?”

His jaw set and he turned to gather up his clothes. As he pulled them on, he kept his movements brusque and efficient, much like his words. “The High Family do not welcome everyone in simply because one witch—likes a human. Business requirements can be examined, and in limited cases special circumstances can be allowed, but a sacrifice is needed to show that the party is serious. That is not what we have here.”

“Oh?” Her voice sounded off to her own ears. “What do we have here, Gabriel?”

He refused to meet her eyes as he shrugged on his sweater.

Brittle, she wrapped her arms around her waist to keep herself together. “I’ll say it then, shall I? A good fuck.”

He whirled on her, the excessive movement so unlike Gabriel that it surprised her. “Don’t reduce it to that.”

“Why not? You are. Leah Turner, good enough to screw, not good enough to sacrifice something for.”

Something flashed in his eyes but he didn’t come any closer. “You’re being dramatic.”

Her vision bled to red. “Because I have actual feelings instead of being a good little robot doing as he’s told?”

“Careful.”

She ignored that. “Everything you’ve ever wanted, huh?” She parroted his earlier words with a heaping of scorn. “Why? You don’t even want the job, Gabriel, not really. You’re only doing it because—” She stopped.

Green glinted dangerously. “Because?”

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