Page 15 of A Lost Light

A big, cold hand wrapped around my wrist, long fingers curling over my skin, illustrating the size difference between us. He might be slim, but he was more than capable of pushing me around, if magic wasn't involved. And yet, he didn't shove me off him. He simply kept me from leaning in any further, from crushing his windpipe.

“Aahil? What the hell are you talking about?” he asked with a tired sigh. “Is this your way of saying you need help with your magic again? Sounds like the paranoia is back.”

I growled. “I'm not crazy.”

He swallowed, his throat working under my hand, his dark aura whispering to me like a thousand barely-heard ghosts, beckoning me to some untimely end. “Says the man who is currently attacking me for no reason,” he said dryly.

His tone of voice didn't fool me. I was a fire jinn. And part of my power lay in sensing and manipulating the most primal and heated emotion that living beings possessed. I could sense his arousal. The way his body yearned for my fire.

We had both been dancing around this ridiculous attraction for a long while now. But why did it suddenly feel so… desperate?

“What is this?” I hissed, not releasing him, stupidly pressing my body closer, so there was no question of what I meant. So that we could both feel the effect we had on one another. For some cursed reason. “Why do I burn when I look at you? When by all rights, I should shiver in revulsion.” And why did I feel so out of control today?

“Aahil….” Dyre lifted his free hand and reached toward me, but I grabbed his wrist and slammed his arm against the bookshelf, pinning it there with a growl.

“Answer me,” I demanded. “Is this some spell of yours? Why would you bother to manipulate me this way? Why do I feel like I might crawl out of my skin if I can't have you?”

I sounded stupid and desperate, even to my own ears. But I just couldn't ignore this anymore. And Iwasa fire elemental. Why should I hesitate to take what I wanted… as long as it wasn't a trap.

“It's no spell, you little terror,” he said, the tension leaving his long, lean body as he melted back against the bookshelf…submitting. He quirked a wry smile my way, but those violet eyes were full of heat. “I suspect you've got a power kink, jinn. Are you really that oblivious?”

I wanted to scoff at him. But I was distracted by how my thumb dragged over his wrist, caressing the chilly skin there, feeling the sluggish pulse under my touch. Wondering at how easily he let me hold him down. “Fuck you,” I murmured, unable to call up quite the level of bitterness and fury I was going for.

I considered carefully while the necromancer patiently waited in my grip. Hasumi had been teaching me to identify emotions. It was a silly exercise. But the water weaver insisted it would help me heal the trauma of my past and build strongerrelationships.Nonsense. But I had to admit, on some level, they were right. Often, I reacted without fully knowing why I did what I did or why I burned so brightly at the time. Hasumi's little lessons helped me check myself. Usually.

So I stood still and drew in a slow breath and tried to figure out what it was I was feeling. Tried to sort through the jumbled nonsense in my brain. Dyre had not cast a spell on me. That was nonsensical. For one, I was very good at sensing magic. I would have sensed him casting an enthrallment spell, sneaky or otherwise. And also… I actuallydidtrust the eerie witch not to harm our cozy little family of freaks, myself included.

Then what was it?

My mind traveled back to the moment I had first felt this sinking sensation in my gut, this clawing need todosomething against some threat. It had been in the courtyard. When Dyre demonstrated his connection to his new pet, and I thought of how I had already lost Andy and Hasumi to the poor, pathetic angel, and then…. Realization dawned.

No. Oh, no. Absolutely not.

Jealousywas not something I was used to feeling. But I was pretty sure if Hasumi were here to parse through the emotionsthat coursed through my body that was what the smug know-it-all would call this.

I had wanted Dyre for a while now. I denied myself. I enjoyed the game we were playing, knowing one day something would come of it and it would be all the more exciting for the waiting. I couldn't begrudge Andy and Hasumi their need to tend to lost, wounded souls. They had helped me find myself again. Ofcoursethey would fall all over themselves to help the angel. I tried to bear it. But the realization that the angel was about to steal Dyre's attention from me as well… it was just a step too far. It felt as though I was about to lose this half-formed potential between us before it even had a chance to bloom.

Pathetic. Disgusting.

Dyre licked his lips, and I found myself staring at the soft, dark blue skin there. Drinking in the chiseled outline. Wondering if he tasted like the ancient, forbidden power that pulsed under his skin. I closed my eyes.

If I wasn't reacting to some nefarious spell, I could come up with a single explanation for why I was currently here, acting like I had lost my mind. But it was ridiculous.Jealousy. Impossible. Utterly absurd. I'd rather die. “This is utter idiocy,” I muttered.

And still, the necromancer didn't try to push me away, or fry me with magic, or escape in any way. I shifted my grip on his neck and his long, shiny red hair caressed the back of my hand where it had come unbound to fall over his shoulder like a waterfall of blood. “I agree,” he said flatly. “Complete stupidity.”

I met his violet eyes again. Did he suspect my absurd motivation? His eyes glowed faintly, and his magic felt… unsettled… against my own. I narrowed my eyes. I felt so shaken, so surprised by my own reactions. But I certainly wasn't confused about the signals I was getting from the arresting man before me.

A smile curled my lips upward, and I reveled in the pure, decadent wickedness of what I was, pushing a little allure his way, a bit of jinn heat to warm his cold soul and stir things up. Perhaps we could avoid discussing my embarrassing reason for being here and just move on. “Is this what you like, necromancer?” I purred, my fingers caressing the side of his throat as I continued to pin him to the bookcase. “A witch so powerful as you… and you want to be dominated?”

His slow smile was as wicked and dangerous as any jinn. He shrugged, his voice nonchalant. “I don't really consider myself submissiveordominant. Kind of in between, maybe? I don't have much to go by. When it comes to sex, I'm there for the experience.” Then his grin deepened. “But I'm not the only one in this body.”

His dangerous smirk didn't waver as the wraith stepped forward. Overwhelming darkness rippled over my skin as Dyre's eyes bled from bright, vivid violet to pure black. The necromancer's usual blood witch aura was submerged and nearly banished by the hungry darkness that took its place.

I sucked in a breath. I still held the necromancer against the bookcase. But I no loner felt like the predator. I was now the prey.

Rather than fear, a renewed shot of lust rolled through me. Perhaps he was right about my attraction to power. I tilted my head back, giving the ancient evil being my best bored look. “You know,” I mused, suddenly understanding a bit more about myself. “I don't usually feel mortal. Jinn are so strong and long-lived that we might as well be immortal. This feeling is… new.”

I felt downright fragile in this creature's presence. It made me realize suddenly how easily I could be snuffed out. It was terrifying and yet thrilling at the same time.

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