Page 62 of Boss Witch

Clem stepped forward, squaring her shoulders, and for the first time, he felt raw magic streaming from her, too powerful for whatever she had been using to block it from his senses. The engine on the Duc revved behind him, and it sounded vaguely threatening. If she wanted to, she could turn every vehicle on this block against him, including his own.

Yeah, definitely a technomancer.

“Walk away,” she said quietly. “Get on the bike and don’t look back. Whatever you need to tell your bosses, make them believe it was a false trail. That’s the only way we both get a happy ending.”

Hearing that hurt when it really shouldn’t. She’d been clear that this relationship could never go anywhere, so her words shouldn’t lodge in his chest like splinters, making him bleed. And now, at long last, he understood why. They stood on opposing sides of an archaic war.

“Walk me through it,” he said, ignoring that for the moment. “What did you know, and when did you know it?”

She put her hands on her hips, crackling with magic and defiance. “Want me to put my cards on the table, English?” With the mocking inflection, the word didn’t feel like an endearment this time.

Every moment that he stood here, he put himself at risk. He put the order at risk. That was what he’d been taught, but she hadn’t tried to hurt him, even knowing he’d come to paint a red mark on her door, so to speak. And he wanted to hear her answer.

“Indeed,” he said.

“Since you stormed into the bakery with those wild accusations. We checked you out that night. So I’ve known from the start.”

“From that first night.”

She gazed at him squarely. “Now you get it. I volunteered to distract you to keep everyone else safe. Don’t feel bad, I enjoyed the game.”

A band tightened around his chest, snapping into place with a suddenness that stole his breath. Deliberately, he turned and switched off the Duc, blanketing the night in quiet.

It was difficult to get the words out because they revealed how fully she’d fooled him. “You’re claiming that none of it was real? Not a single moment.”

“Does that scuff your pride? I’ll salvage some of it by admitting the sex was excellent. Now, unfortunately, we’re on opposite sides, and there can’t be any fraternization.”

“Are you declaring war?” Gavin asked.

“You came to my town, hunting the people I love,” Clem snapped. “I’m not the one who started this fight. I didn’t want it. I still don’t. I was hoping you’d admit defeat and move on. Why couldn’t you justleave?” Her tough facade fractured a little, trembling on the last word.

Fuck.

He fought through the first wave of outrage and anger—­the sense that she’d fucking played him.Yes. She did. It started as a lie, but—­

No, that might be ego talking.

Whycouldn’tI just leave?

The usual response nearly burst forth.Because it’s my job. It’s my father’s pride. My family name.But those reasons no longer even seemed sufficient to him, let alone her.

“Because of you,” he said then. “Because you made me want to stay, even when I knew I shouldn’t.”

Clem sucked in a sharp breath, and he thought she swayed toward him, drawn by the same pull that made it feel like they were one soul while they made love. “Shouldn’t stay or shouldn’t want to?”

“Both,” he said tiredly.

Some of the magic died away, lessening the low-­grade buzz on his skin. It was strange not to need to try and sense for power being used. The air was saturated with it, and he still didn’t feel threatened. His old man’s voice rang in his head.She’s tricking you. The moment you let down your guard—­

Instinctively he shook his head. He couldn’t imagine Clem hurting anyone. Frankly, nobody he’d encountered in St. Claire seemed like bad people.They were kind and welcoming, even when I was picking their brains.

“Then I guess I’m more charming than I imagined and better at pretending too.”

It occurred to him that he had no right to be angry. Part of him wanted to punch something and shout,How could you? I’m a person!But he’d been trawling the coffee klatch in a similar way, even if he wasn’t sleeping with any of them. In his line of work—­as a hunter—­he used people all the time, trying to find a weakness or extract information that would lead to a successful ID. Then he turned all that information over and vanished.

“You’re both,” he agreed.

She took a breath, dropping her eyes as if she found it difficult to look directly at him. Gavin had a powerful urge to comfort her, even knowing she wouldn’t want that, now that the truth was out on both sides.God, she’s a fantastic liar.

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