Page 22 of A Snowed in Valentine's

Clearly, he hadn’t been thinking because if he’d been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have let himself get so close to a witch unless it was to take her life.

Chapter Eight

The Book of Nyx: A Step-by-Step Guide to Heavy Metal

The realization that she was back in the interrogation room hit her before the lights did. She opened her eyes, squinting in the glare of the fluorescent bulbs, and looked around. She was still alone. How much time had passed since the two agents walked out? She doubted it was more than a few minutes. Why time worked differently on Earth than it did on Frost Mountain, she had no idea, but she had bigger concerns, like how the hell she was going to get out of her cuffs and out of wherever the FBI had taken her before matters got worse. Without her magic, she was practically useless. That was another problem that needed fixing ASAP. But August Kane had no intentions of unbinding her anytime soon.

Hewas another concern of hers. What had happened back in the cabin had been completely unexpected. Daphne wished she’d imagined it, but the whole thing had pretty much occurred in slow motion. She’d complained of being cold, and then he’d come to lie down next to her. At that point, she should have created a space between them. But what had she done? She’d waited.

Then August had pulled her close to him, and she’d felt her self-control slowly slip away. She remembered the warmth of his body, the wisps of grey in his hair, the gleam of desire in his eyes as he brought his face close to hers.

What were you thinking?said a tiny voice in the back of her mind.Making out with the same man who tried to murder you and who bound your magic. Are you insane?

In her defense,hehad kissed her.

But you kissed him back. If he hadn’t stopped, who knows how far it would’ve gone?

Daphne had no answer to that. The memories were still fresh in her mind: August wrapping his arm around her, August’s hand caressing her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples, August rubbing her through her panties.

A delicious warmth spread through her body, thinking of that. At that moment, if he’d asked to take her clothes off, she would have let him. Forget a blanket and the fireplace—August Kane was all the heat she needed.

She rubbed her thighs together absent-mindedly, and a tiny moan escaped her lips. It dawned on her a second later that she was still being watched by whoever was behind the two-way mirror. Casting an embarrassed glance at her reflection, she parted her legs again and sat up straighter.

The door opened. Agent Carter stepped in, followed shortly by O’Hara. The woman pulled out her chair, flashing Daphne a thin smile.

“Sorry about my partner’s outburst,” she said as O’Hara took up his position by the wall. “He had family on that missing flight. This case is personal for him, you see. He shouldn’t be here, I know. But… well, it’s out of my hands.”

Daphne’s eyes were on the object in the woman’s hands. Carter was clutching a large book with leather bindings. As the agent set it on the table before her, Daphne caught sight of the gold lettering across the front cover.

“The Book of Nyx,” she gasped.

“Recognize it?” Carter sat down heavily, studying Daphne’s face. “It’s one of the things we picked up from your apartment. I have to say, you’re a rather unusual woman. Got a lot of weird stuff in your home. But this book takes the cake. That’s why we brought it here. It’s even got your last name on it… Emerson. Judging from how old it looks, I’m willing to bet Eleanor was your great-grandmother. Am I right?”

Daphne merely shrugged. She stared at the grimoire, her pulse pounding in her ears.

“The Book of Nyx,” Carter repeated. She cocked her head to one side. “Nyx. That name’s from Greek mythology, isn’t it? You know, personification of the night, daughter of Chaos. Yeah, I know a bit of mythology.” She looked somewhat pleased with herself.

“That’s nice,” was all Daphne said.

Carter’s brows twitched. “If you ask me, that name sounds pretty fitting because this book is way too chaotic for anyone to understand. And I bet it’s filled with some pretty dark stuff.” She leaned forward, her gaze growing more intense by the second. “You into the occult, Miss Emerson?”

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

“You know—voodoo, black magic, maybe some heavy metal… that sort of thing.” The agent sighed. “I guess what I’m really trying to figure out is whether you’re part of some cult or…”

“You mean like a terrorist organization?”

By the wall, O’Hara snapped his fingers, smiling wickedly into his mustache. “Right-o. For all we know, that book could contain your manifesto. We just might have stumbled upon an age-old conspiracy against the US government. Talk about a gold mine.”

“No,” Daphne said, staring at her cuffed hands for a moment. “I told you already, I’m not a terrorist.”

“Then I suppose you won’t mind explaining to us what this book is,” Carter said, tapping the Book of Nyx.

Daphne took a deep breath. Telling these two humans what she was would only complicate matters for her. Then again, it wasn’t like things weren’t already complicated. These agents weren’t going to believe her no matter what she said.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” she said. She looked at O’Hara, then back at Carter. “It’s a grimoire.”

“A grim—wha…?”

---