Page 3 of Research with Rivals
My spine straightened, and the beast in my mind showed her teeth. I dug my nails into my palms beneath the desk to stop the change from happening.
Not here.
My nostrils flared through a deep breath. Calming. Centering. “I was hired to learn about blood magic. You are well aware of the information lacking in Vesten history. This is how I intend to do it.”
His ears pinkened. He was an expert on Vesten history, so distinguished that he’d taken on researching blood magic when no one else would. “Yes, well.” He glanced across my desk again. “I look forward to your paper detailing the experiment and the conclusions.”
Liar.
He hadn’t reviewed the paper I submitted yesterday yet. I glanced back at the plants. Hopefully, we were done here and he would leave. I’d calmed the animal in my mind only momentarily. She would be a problem if this conversation continued.I needed to leave anyway. I had started my experiment, but the results would take time.
“Could you read my work on anchors?” he asked, as he shuffled the papers in his hand.
I’d never tell him, but I was eager to read this paper. He’d been researching anchors, or objects of significance to specific instances of blood magic. They were physical representations of the magic, helping to focus the wielder’s intent. Ambrose hypothesized that they did more than focus intent; they might house it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to read the paper right now. The clock on the wall announced I had to leave for my second job soon.
“Not tonight. Maybe if you had arrived earlier to ask, I could have fit you in.”
In hindsight, I could have done without tacking on the last part of my response. My comment wasn’t really fair. Ambrose had been here for hours, but something about the way he’d casually strolled into the Great Room mid-morning raised my not-so-metaphorical hackles. Those who didn’t claw for every scrap of respect they received were difficult to trust.
His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. “We can’t all obsess over blood magic all the time.”
My hand balled into a fist. The animal I’d almost suppressed scratched again to break free. Not here. Not now. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the nose.
Ambrose Yarrow had an inexplicable ability to get under my skin. I needed him gone.
“Fine. Give it to me. I’ll finish it before you arrive tomorrow.”
I’m sure this conversation was giving him whiplash, but he could join the club.
Ambrose stared at me. “You just said?—”
“I know.” I took another deep breath to calm the raging animal inside me. “Please leave the papers on my desk. You can go now.”
My internal temperature was rising with my beast’s desire to break free. Sweat would drip from my brow momentarily if I continued to push her down.
It was unpredictable how fae magic would materialize in someone like me. Some half-fae had magic just like their fae parent. Others had none at all. Many had something in between.
As Ambrose considered my statement, but still didn’t leave, I began to count backward from one hundred. It was these moments, which were unfortunately increasing in frequency, when I secretly wished my father hadn’t run out on us. I wished someone could teach me how to handle the animal that fought so hard against me.
Everyone assumed that because I hadn’t had uncontrollable shifts as a child, I’d never have them. I had thought that the case, too, until a few months ago.
If only it were still true.
Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven.It would be inconvenient for my shift to make itself known now.
The animal and I didn’t get along well. She was too separate, too unpredictable, and honestly, too unfathomable to comprehend. I didn’t know how to control her. Usually, I was at her mercy—when she wanted out, she freed herself. I couldn’t let it happen here, though.
“Evelyn?”
I’d missed whatever Ambrose had said. Why was he still here? Reason drove all aspects of my life, except for my shift and my interactions with Ambrose Yarrow. The two things shouldn’t mix.
Concern lingered with Ambrose’s furrowed brow. The knuckles of his fingers were white where they gripped the wooden carrel as if he clung to it for dear life. “Are you?—”
“I’m fine,” I said quietly.Ninety-six, ninety-five, ninety-four.My heart rate steadied with another breath.
I dared a glance, but he hadn’t yet turned to leave. Our gazes locked, and I couldn’t quite fathom what I read there.
Some would say I’d made a hobby of studying Ambrose Yarrow. I would say that I liked to know my competition, and he was the only one in this library who knew anything about blood magic. But the near feral look on his usually stoic face didn’t sit well with me. He must think I’d pushed blood magic too far and tested it on myself. Maybe this was what would finally get me fired.
