Page 30 of Magic Forsaken

The muscles of his jaw flexed and his head tilted as he looked down at me. Intense. Predatory. Furious.

“What have I done to make you believe that I would stoop to lying and backstabbing?”

Wait… I’doffendedhim?

“I asked whether you requested my help because I’m an easy target for blackmail,” I reminded him. “And youagreed!”

“Yes,” he growled, and the sound rattled around between my ribs, awakening the sort of visceral terror that could only come from recognizing one’s self as prey. “Because you showed up in this city at the worst possible time and drew the worst possible kind of attention. Because you’re untrained and vulnerable. Because no one will believe you’reactuallythat innocent andnaive, and they will want to either use you, exploit you, or crack you open and find out what you know. And fool that I am, I thought I’d be better able to protect you from it if you worked for me!”

Oh. My chin dropped as I digested this. I even took the risk of poking at my weird, unnamed magic, wishing it would tell me whether he was being sincere. But it never worked that way. Never gave me help when I was looking for it. I was going to have to make this determination on my own.

But I couldn’t exactly think clearly enough to make wise decisions when there was a deadly predator less than an arm’s length away, so I took a couple of big steps back.

“Maybe,” I suggested warily, “we should start again from the beginning.”

“Which one?” Callum’s arms folded across his chest as one of his brows quirked cynically. “The part where I offer you a job and you accuse me of blackmail? Or the part where you wanted to stab me with broken glass?”

“That was not my fault,” I protested. “I was just doing my job, and you acted like I was some kind of undercover assassin!”

“Fine.” He threw up his hands. “Not your fault. Neither of us were at our best last night, so how about this: I’ll try offering you a job again, andyoutry pretending like I’m acting in good faith.”

He was awfully sarcastic for a stubborn, suspicious, stick-in-the-mud.

“Why, Your Majesty, what an unexpected honor,” I deadpanned. “How might your humble servant be of use to you?”

Callum regarded me with a stern, unsmiling gaze for a few more moments before his lips twitched and he seemed to relax just a fraction.

“All right, you’ve made your point. But could we sit down for this part instead of glaring at each other in my entryway?”

Maybe I should have refused. But I suddenly recalled Morghaine’s assertion that if I gave him a chance, he just might surprise me.

Consider me sufficiently surprised. Also, those couches did look incredibly comfortable.

“Fine.” I surveyed the options, wondering whether there were any right or wrong answers. Any hidden tests…

“Just sit,” Callum grumbled. “Unlike you, the couches don’t bite.”

I glared briefly and mumbled under my breath at his bossiness, but I also chose the couch with the best view of the entire living space and tucked myself into a corner.

Rather than following suit, the dragon hesitated for a moment, eying me with a preoccupied frown. Had I taken his favorite seat or something?

“I’m not really used to playing host,” he finally admitted, running a hand through his hair and letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “Most of the formalities seem useless to me, and I hate small talk. But this has gotten a bit more personal than a business meeting, so… I think my sister would tell me I’m supposed to offer you tea.”

The big, bad dragon was offering metea?

Okay, that was almost cute. I had to remind myself sternly that it might still be an attempt to manipulate me.

“Uh. Tea would be fine, I guess?” Not that I was ready to bequitethat friendly, but if he was going to make the effort, I should at least be polite.

He busied himself in the kitchen, and I tried to pretend I wasn’t watching. Just out of caution, of course. Not at all wondering whether dragons could boil water just by breathing on it.

Sadly, he used a perfectly normal electric kettle, and after a few more minutes of awkward silence, I was handed a rugged, earthenware mug filled with something that smelled…

Incredible. It smelled absolutely incredible.

“What is this? It smells great.”

“Lavender Earl Grey,” he told me as he took a seat across from me. “It’s Kira’s favorite.”

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