Page 11 of Under a Wicked Moon
She shook her head.
Elemental magic like hers was terrifying to most across theworld, even himself. So basic and potent. He bet she could do something to the collar but maybe didn’t trust herself enough.
He said, “God gave you that gift for a reason. We’re stuck in here unless we both use everything we have in our arsenal.”
“What exactly is it that you have that’ll allow you to get that door open? If you have magic of your own, then why don’t you deactivate the collars? Might want to take care of the three cameras in here while you’re at it.”
“I already tried to take off the collar, but can’t.” He glanced up, less concerned about the cameras than actually escaping the room. He whispered, “The door locks are old-world mechanical, which is weird, but it’s an advantage.”
In Gaelic, she said, “Do you have magic?”
“It’s complicated.” In the aftermath of exorcism, when the evil spirit who’d tried to possess him had vacated his head, it’d opened up a new part of his brain to use.
“Turn around. Let me do your back now,” he ordered. She positioned herself between his legs and leaned forward to avoid touching him anywhere. He started by working his fingers along the muscles of her neck. She groaned as her entire body relaxed and leaned into him.
“That’s amazing,” she moaned as he moved up to her scalp. “Maybe we can pause the escape for a few more minutes.”
He worked her scalp and then moved down to her delicate shoulders. “Have you tried to use your magic in here? Does the drug affect it?”
“I don’t use it anymore.”
“Why? In here who the hell cares what the asinine Lycan Council thinks.”
“It’s complicated.” She threw his words back at him. “I trusted the wrong person and ended up here.”
This close, Vivi was stunning. This wasn’t about the beauty of her eyes, which were light in color—who knew if they wereblue or green, since color-blindness sucked—or the curves of her body, but that she’d trusted him. He was good at reading people and figuring out puzzles. She wasn’t a killer at heart but had become one by instinct. From being in here. For a lot longer than she’d thought.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “This—the massage—isn’t too much? It’s not making things worse?”
She shook her head. “Don’t stop. Whatever you’re doing on my shoulders is good. The other things don’t hurt as much.”
He traced the delicate bones across her back, applying pressure over the muscles where she carried so much tension. She flinched when he found a knot. Gently, he worked it out. “Do you know where there’d be a computer with access to the records I need?”
“No. I haven’t been out of this room since I was moved here, at least I don’t remember being out of it.” She glanced over her shoulder, eyes flashing vulnerability. “I want to find my sister but also to find out what they did to me. How’d they make me forget years?”
“Makes the most sense to escape in the middle of the night when there are likely the fewest on duty.”
He traced the indentation at the back of her neck and worked his hand into her hair against her scalp. Her hair was so soft. The fact it wasn’t matted meant she had bathed. There wasn’t a shower in here. “Do you bathe somewhere outside this room?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Your hair is clean.” He lifted it to smell. “Still smells fresh, which means you washed it within the past few days. Do you remember that?”
She grabbed her head and leaned farther forward. “I hate not remembering.”
He fisted his hands and pulled them off her to grit out, “Get back to your side of the room. Please. I can handle you pissy orangry or even borderline friendly, but this is too much. I want to make it better, but if I touch you…comfort you…” He hands began moving as if to touch her of their own volition. If he made contact, he was a goner. He rasped out weakly, “Go.”
“Got it.” She slid back to her side on the bench, far away from him.
Locks unclicking. Someone was coming into the cell.
Now?
They almost did what the humans wanted. Why would they stop them now?
Ky whispered, “I don’t want you to go yet.”
“If I had a choice, I’d stay.”
