Page 22 of Research with Rivals
The scent was strong; I must have just missed her change. She smelled … feline. While the image of Evelyn hissing and swiping the claws of an angry house cat was mildly entertaining, I knew it didn’t fit. We were miles outside of the city. She wore pajamas, meaning she must be on a morning run, fresh from sleep. I refused to catalog how much skin her pajamas exposed. If she’d made it this far north in a few hours, she was a larger cat. A wild cat.
Finally, she caught sight of me and froze in what I had to assume was fear. I didn’t think, only acted on instinct as my wolf stretched forward in a bow. My tail flipped back and forth like I was asking her to play a game. Like maybe the hunt I’d been on this morning could be more of a mutual chase, and interesting things could happen if she let me catch her.
The problem was that Evelyn stared at me as if I were a predator. I guessed I was. My only rebuttal was that I had no illusion she wasn’t one as well.
Her hands raised in a defensive posture as she crept around me. The slow, careful steps finally made me realize she had no idea who I was. For all that she must have shifted moments ago, it hadn’t crossed her mind that I, too, was a shifter—one she knew.
When she turned to run down the path, my whole body shook. It was like I tried to rid my fur of raindrops, except it wasn’t raining and I was completely dry.
The pang in my chest was back. Each time her feet hit the ground, putting more distance between us, I winced.
Wait. What?
I might have had a bit of a crush on Evelyn Knowles, but I wasn’t some lovesick teenager. Just because she found me repulsive didn’t mean my world would end. I was not in physical pain due to her rejection of my wolf.
She didn’t reject us. She didn’t even know it was us.
My wolf had a good point.
Still, it couldn’t be my focus right now. I needed to understand the pang in my chest, the knot tightening as the distance between us lengthened. Why was I physically affected by Evelyn?
My paw came up to scratch my ear in a move that echoed the way I ran my fingers through my hair in fae form. This didn’t make sense.
I had thought about her a lot last night. Unfortunately, that wasn’t unusual, but it seemed like we’d had a breakthrough when we shared a meal at her study carrel. We’d discussed theories as if we’d forgotten we were competing on this project. She had read my paper. Yes, I had asked her to, but then we received the new assignment, and I didn’t expect her to care. I couldn’t believe she wanted my opinion on anchors. It was a brilliant idea to consider them. Maybe I would have if we could brainstorm ideas that easily all the time.
The worst part was that I did try to talk to her. Most of the time, I ended up saying something to offend her. Every time we discussed magic, my father’s voice was in my head, saying her work was dangerous. At least I’d ignored it last night.
I winced as I considered my father’s thoughts on both of our cuts opening during our meal. Now who was being reckless? An errant thought ran through my mind. This pang, this physical need, it couldn’t be blood magic, could it?
No, no, neither of us had spoken anything. We didn’t declare any intent, even if our blood did spill on each other.
That didn’t matter in the journal Gabriel gave us.
Beyond the trees, the ferry captain shouted the last call for boarding. I shook myself free from my far-fetched thoughts of blood magic, even though the clenching feeling burned through my chest. Every instinct told me I needed to be on that boat, and I listened. Quickly, I shifted into my fae form and sprinted to the dock.
The captain’s eyes narrowed as I slid aboard just before he pushed off. “Cutting it close.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, but I was already searching the handful of passengers trying to find … Evelyn.
She stood near the front. I was momentarily captivated by her hair. She usually kept it braided. It had been a disaster when I’d found her, pieces falling out, leaves and twigs sticking out in every direction. She must have decided the braid was a lost cause because now it was long and wild. Something I didn’t quite understand had me wanting to stick my nose in it and soak up the scent.
That would be awkward.I pushed down what I could only assume were my wolf’s urges and took slow steps toward her.
Steam curled from a cup she clutched in both hands. The captain must have had hot drinks for those who boarded early. Her whole body curled toward the heat, as if every inch of her skin that touched the cup was better off. She wore a black tank top and shorts, and the way she shook as the boat started to move told me she didn’t know how to use her Vesten heat.
Her chosen study carrel in the library also made me question this. No other Vesten wanted the seat by the fire because most of us ran hot. Evelyn had fire magic. I had seen it with my own eyes, but she didn’t use it to warm herself. My hackles rose as I realized what that meant.
No one had taught her.
Given Evelyn’s age, it wasn’t altogether uncommon to think her fae parent wasn’t in her life. The stigma in fae society about half-fae was changing slowly, but fae could be stupid in their beliefs. That was one of the reasons I was so happy to work at the library. Gabriel didn’t have those prejudices. When I had told him about Evelyn working in the Sandrin Records Office, his only question had been if I’d finally met my match.
Crossing the bay was a short boat ride, but it certainly wouldn’t make her any warmer. Again, I moved without thought. It seemed to be a pattern with Evelyn. I had multiple layers on. Since I hadn’t known where my wolf would take me this morning, I’d prepared for all environments before shifting. My sweater was over my head and I had my hand outstretched to Evelyn before any form of greeting left my lips.
Her eyes widened, and she scanned the boat as if looking for escape, like she wasn’t at all happy to see me. “Ambrose. What are you doing here?”
I offered the sweater again as the boat began to move. “Do you want to wear this? The rest of the ride will be chilly.”
She refused to look at me. Instead, she glared at the sweater like it offended her, before clutching the paper cup tighter. With a final glance, she seemed to calculate the distance between us and Sandrin’s dock. The moment she grabbed the garment, apparently deciding that accepting my help was a reasonable cost for comfort, my lip tilted.
