Page 6 of Cast in Shadow
Emerson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at me. His hands—always so strong and capable—flexed in and out of fists. “I would get these little glimpses of you.” He tapped the side of his head. “For years afterward.” He paused, drawing out the silence as he searched my gaze. “I thought I was losing my mind.”
I let out a tired huff. “Unfinished business has a way of eating at a person.”
Emerson pushed up off the chair and moved closer, displacing every ounce of oxygen between us. He opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut again, his nostrils flaring. His hand drifted up. When he cupped my cheek, I flinched. Every muscle in my body tensed, screaming at me to pull away. But I didn’t.
His eyes narrowed, staring intently at my mouth as his thumb traced my bottom lip.
Half of me wanted to punch him, but the other idiot half wanted to lean into him.
Why wasn’t I fighting him off? Why the hell was I letting him touch me?
I knew better than to let him get so close to me. My need for him had always been a force of its own, but apparently knowingthat still wasn’t enough to stop me from leaning into his hot palm and closing my eyes against the tears threatening to fall.
I hadn’t let myself cry for him back then, at least not at first. I’d been too shocked for tears. And afraid. Until it all morphed into a fury that I let run so hot for so long that it hollowed me out inside.
For a long time afterward, I felt nothing.
No light or dark. No sadness or joy. I existed. Barely.
Then, in a reckless moment of desperation, my whole world changed. And when I found my feet, the anger came roaring back, right along with the heartache and a grief so profound it left me speechless some days.
I’d embraced it all then, using the power of those emotions to build my dying heart back up into something stronger. I’d made myself impenetrable in the years since, never letting anyone in. Not until I found a greater purpose with Lexa.
Now though, a tiny fissure was forming in the dam I’d built around my heart. If I wasn’t careful, there would be nothing I could do to stop it from bleeding out.
“Senna.” Emerson’s deep voice cracked on my name as his strong arms closed around me, pulling me into his chest.
I tried to shove him away—I wanted to—but the homesickness and longing that tore through me almost broke me all over again.
3
The universe was a cruel mistress for throwing Emerson in my path again. All the pain and anguish—not to mention self-loathing—I’d gone through after leaving him bubbled to the surface.
I twisted out of his arms. “I am not doing this with you.”
Silence stretched for several seconds before he responded. “You cannot go after the Navali witch.” His voice was firm, absolute. “She is too powerful.”
I stared hard at his worn front door just a few yards away, focusing on the aged wood as I gathered my power around me like a shield. Not that it was any good against him. Strong as I’d become, that shield was utterly useless against heartache.
“Don’t pretend like you’re worried about me now,” I finally said. “Besides, I can handle one witch.”
“Not by yourself. She’s slipped through our grasp twice already, and she did some damage along the way.”
That little revelation had me turning around. Megan Navali might have become stronger than I’d anticipated, but to escape the Brethren more than once? That was a rarity.
“She was cut off from her coven weeks ago, stripped back to her base magic. Where is she getting her power?” It wasn’t from normal humans like back at the festival. Even if she pulled power from crowds like that every night, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to make up the difference.
“She found a new circle.”
“When?” I took a step toward him before I realized what I was doing and hauled myself to a stop.
“Two weeks ago. She found a group willing to take her in, claiming to be on the run from an abusive coven. Within three days she’d stolen their power and killed them all.”
Killed? “How have I not heard about this?”
I’d taken the case as my own because witches who stole power from other magical beings for their own selfish gain were the lowest of the low in my book, and not just because it was morally corrupt. It was also incredibly dangerous for the victim. A person’s innate magic was tied to their lifeforce the way blood was tied to a body. There was only so much of it and losing too much could be fatal.
Taking down someone like Megan Navali was one of those things I would never hand off to one of my teams. Even if she was just a mid-level witch when she went all villainous, my people out in the field were all magical in some way. I would not risk putting them in the line of fire.
