Page 125 of A Winding Wave of Magic
His canines seemed to grow slightly in spite of the grin. “Guard you with my life,” he promised.
I considered the circumstances. Four months ago, I’d have run from a place like this. Four months ago, I wouldn’t have been out at night like this at all.
And yet, here I was, finding it manageable—maybe even enjoyable—for the first time, and largely, I suspected, due to the man with me.
I took his hand, and when I felt the eagerness pulsing there, I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his. Or maybe I didn’t care.“All right. Lead on.”
He didn’t let gofor hours. By the time we emerged from the Brazen Head, we were both sweaty, happy, and completelypissed as we fell into the night, hands as locked as ever.
The merriment was still going and would continue until the sun rose. Jigs had turned to reels and reels had turned to marches, and before I knew it, I had been spinning around a crowded pub for hours, bumping into strangers, and somehow never sensed a thought from any of them.
It was probably the best night of my life.
“Penny would have liked that,” I told Jonathan as we turned down a narrow street which I presumed would take us back to the hotel. It was hard to tell—the streets in this part of Dublinseemed to curve every which way. “She would have wanted a good wake. Reina and I tried to make one of our own, but it failed miserably in Portland. As you know.”
“Is that what you were doing in Portland?” He nodded, almost approvingly. “She did like a good party. Even if everyone would forget about it the day after.”
“Because of drinks or her spells?”
Jonathan chuckled. “Likely both.” A hazy, distant memory flickered through his mind. Something with Gran, but something I couldn’t quite make out, though there was music in it. Another reel.
“Jonathan.” I pulled on his hand, urging him to stop with me.
He turned with concern. “What is it?”
“I—” I shook my head. “Thank you. For tonight. I don’t know why you wanted to take me out, but I appreciate it more than you know.”
“Oh.” He looked down at our joined hands. “Actually, I think I do. You’ve been thinking about it all night.”
I followed his glance and blushed. Of course, he knew. “It’s only…I can’t usually do this because it always ends in disaster. Before tonight, a pub like that would have probably driven me into the river, as much from the crowd as from its history. Places like that carry…a lot.”
I looked away, recounting the time that had literally happened. Even the day he’d met me, though there had been too many others to count. Concerts where I’d lasted all but ten minutes. House parties where I’d jumped into a shower just to remain sane. The day Jonathan and I had met wasn’t the only time I’d gone swimming in the reservoir, though it was certainly the coldest.
For all the protections I tried to maintain, I often felt like a hostage to the world around me, trapped by its constant noise. Somehow, this man’s touch managed to quiet everything. Andfor the first time, I wasn’t Seeing everything all at once. I was only seeing the world like everyone else.
I was seeing him.
Jonathan watched me quietly, though he had undoubtedly followed my thoughts. Something like awe was trickling through our connection, but little more. For all I was an open book, he was working very hard to block me at the moment.
“What…what are you thinking?” I finally asked.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then looked at our clasped hands and back up at my face. “I’m thinking you don’t really want to know what I’m thinking, Cass.”
I gave his hand a little shake. “I do, actually. Don’t make me pry.”
He swallowed thickly even as he looked away. “Please don’t.”
“Why not? What won’t you tell me?”
Those green eyes shuttered as if he were in pain. Then he opened them, and there was a hint of that magical blaze in their depths. “It’s onlyyourthoughts I’ve ever Seen like this, you know.” The words came out almost hurried.
I offered a small smile. “At least I’m not the only one caught off guard by it.”
“I like it. It makes it easier to understand you.” He chewed on his lower lip. “Sorcerers are not known for our empathy.”
“‘Cold as ice, the whole lot,’” I said in my best imitation of Gran’s accent.
His expression twisted into displeasure. “I hope you don’t think of me like that.”
