Page 35 of Magick and Lead
When I opened my eyes, I spied the box of her stuff still on the table.
“Dammit,” I muttered, picking up the box, ready to chase her down. If she left it, it would be another excuse for her to come back—and no doubt that’s exactly what she intended. But I couldn’t see her again. Not now.
I dropped the box back onto the table with a curse and turned toward the kitchen to pour myself a drink.
There, standing in the doorway, was a vision from a dream.
It wasn’t her.
Couldn’tbe her.
She had two hands, one of her arms in a sling. She wore Admite clothing. And her eyes, as she stared at me, were hard as shards of flint.
But that face, its beauty so intimately familiar, as if I’d been dreaming it all my life…. Those eyes, their colors changing withher moods like shifting storm clouds…. Those lips. Lips that had haunted me ever since… ever since…
I’d searched. I’d prayed. I’d pined.
It couldn’t be. But it was. It was her.
I opened my mouth, but so much feeling flooded me that I could hardly form words. And yet I had to. I had to say her name out loud, to make her real.
“Essa…” I whispered, rushing forward to take her in my arms.
I saw the glint of the dagger a second too late.
17
ESSA
Charlie’s lips found mine at the same time I plunged the dagger into his chest. For a second, I felt frozen. It was like falling from dragon back, a moment of suspension. His kiss somehow stole my breath, rustled my soul, and curled my toes even though, in the same moment…
Even though…
I pulled away from our kiss and looked down at my dagger blade to find it was not buried in him as it should have been. The point had hit something.
Kit—Charlie—gave me a stunned look, then pulled his buttoned shirt front apart. He wore a chain necklace with his dragon stone on it. My dagger point had hit the stone, so the blade had not pierced his flesh—yet.
“Essa. What are you—?” he breathed.
I cocked back and struck him in the side of the head with the hilt of the dagger. He staggered back, blood already starting to drizzle from his forehead where I’d hit him.
With a growl, I swung my dagger, aiming for his neck, but he caught my arm and, in one smooth, violent motion, slung me to the floor. I hit with a thud that knocked the breath from my lungs. My wrist screamed with pain as he twisted myhand, making me release the dagger, and I found myself pinned beneath him.
It reminded me that Charlie was no mere reporter, not the sweet wordsmith he’d pretended to be. He was a renowned warrior. An ace.
A killer.
The reminder brought my hatred for him to a boil.
And yet, pinned beneath him like this, his powerful body against mine, I felt something else, too?—
Something between my legs, pressing against me…
“Are you hard?” I demanded.
He glared at me. “Essa. What are you doing here?” His eyes ticked to my lips, then back to my eyes. “Besides trying to kill me?”
I snarled, trying to break free of his grip. But he was far stronger than I’d imagined. “Let me go!” I shouted.
