Page 7 of Bombshell

“Are you sure, Effie?” he asked once he’d shrugged the red plaid shirt he’d been wearing earlier over his shoulders again. He looked hurt, his gold eyes were filled with it as he searched my face for any sign that I was going to let him stay.

“Yes, I have a lot of work to do, soshoo,” I tried to imbue my voice with a teasing lightness, like we were two friends sharing an inside joke.

Dallan frowned, the tentacles on his face twitching as he sighed. “You can’t run from this forever, Lass, and I’m tired of pretending that we only do this for the sake of ink collection.”

What did he mean by that? Was he ending our agreement?

I wanted to stop him and ask what his words meant, but my pride kept me from opening my mouth or reaching out to grab his arm.

Instead, I watched him leave with a heavy pit forming in my stomach as the front door of my apartment slammed with an echoing thud.

Sitting on the edge of my bed I contemplated his words, trying my best to shake them off.

I was doing the right thing.

Anam Cara. That was what he almost called me. His soul mate.

But I couldn’t be anyone’s soul mate. That meant that I was his true other half, but I couldn’t be anyone’s other half.

I was an abomination—an affront to nature that should never have been created. A halfling, but not only that, the only one of my kind.

How was I supposed to be the piece that matched Dallan’s when I’d never belonged anywhere in the first place? My pieces were all jagged and misshapen.

No,I told myself as I pulled on a set of silk pajamas and got to work at my makeshift witch’s workbench which more resembled a mad scientist’s workshop than anything particularly magical.

It’s because you keep breaking the rules. It’s giving him the wrong idea.I continued to berate myself as I measured out black ink into test tubes, my fingers grazing the glass that had been pre-charged with my magic, causing it to start to glow green.

Somewhere, deep down, a little tiny voice asked if I actually wanted him to get the wrong idea. If I’d secretly wanted him to push me when I’d been so adamant that there couldn’t be anymore to us than what there already was.

I shook those thoughts away, focusing on the ink in front of me. If I let my mind wander too much I risked ruining this entire batch and the shop needed it for the upcoming busy season.

There was a long night of ink enchanting ahead of me and thinking about the source of the ink would only make it that much longer.

So, I shoved all thoughts of Dallan and his sad gold eyes from my mind and focused on the bubbling ink in front of me, pretending like waking up in his arms hadn’t been the best feeling in the world.

Chapter 2

“So you struck out again, huh?” Cash asked as he took a swig of his beer.

I’d dragged him out of his house after Effie had kicked me out of her place, giving Daphne my best apology, and brought him to the Dive to clear my head.

“I did not ‘strike out,’” I growled, irritated by his jovial attitude. Cash was far too cheerful these days for my liking. The historically somber gargoyle smiled so much that it was starting to creep me out. “I just…”

“You just pushed harder than you should have and are now regretting it?” Cash filled in for me with a shake of his head. “You should have known what would happen. Effie is not a woman who likes to be pushed.”

I slanted a glance in his direction, feeling a mix of irritation and regret as we sat watching the nightlife at the bar start to ramp up.

“Since when did you become such a love guru?” I asked, grumbling into my glass of whiskey. Most alcohol had little effect on me, but at the very least whiskey warmed my body and gave it a little buzz—I always figured it was myScottish genetics winning out over my monster ones. But even still, I was three glasses in and still felt just as sober as when we’d walked into the bar and Effie’s face when she woke up and asked me to leave was also still just as fresh.

Cash didn’t respond to my jab and instead gave me a firm slap on the back. “As your best friend, I think you’re in the right pushing her if you want more of a relationship with her, but as Effie’s friend I think you’re a dumbass for pushing her while knowing why she keeps you at an arm’s length.”

“Are we giving Dallan love advice again?” the familiar voice of Santi Del Mar cut into our conversation as he dropped off another round of drinks to us.

As a creature of the water, he technically fell under my jurisdiction as the head of such monsters in Port Haven. I’d known the kid for nearly twenty years ever since he and the rest of his family had moved here from down South, and even twenty years in he was still basically just as naive as he’d been the day the tide brought him in.

Just like most days, Santi wore his human skin which made him look like a dark haired surfer with shaggy hair. The look was complete with a brightly colored tank top and puka shell necklace, making the man look much younger than he actually was.

“Santi, are you really asking that?” Cash asked dryly as he glanced between Santi and to where Santi’s counterpart, a shorter blonde woman was busily mixing drinks behind the bar.

---