Page 14 of A Touch of Poison
From the corner of my eye, I saw her pause in the doorway.
“Thanks.” For the risks she’d taken and her hard work, but also for getting my none-too-subtle hint to leave.
I caught a flash of sharp teeth. “Just how grateful are you?”
“Brynan will see to your bonus—yourgenerousbonus.” More money meant fewer questions. And she had brought back perhaps two dozen ancient books—chances are, they were texts we didn’t already have in the archives. Lysander would be pleased.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Another flash of teeth, then the door closed on her and the rest of the world.
6
Bastian
At last, I sank into the chair before the fireplace, bones weary like I’d been in a battle. My shadows spilled from me to the floor as though they were also tired. I scrubbed my face and drew deep breaths, feeling the air inch through my lungs and the way it brushed over my lips on the way out.
The coral pink flames flickered, and I let my shadows snake towards them. If I left them to their own devices, they were often drawn to fire, like their darkness craved the burning brightness. Perhaps I did, too. Perhaps that was why I was drawn to Katherine. Not just for her fiery hair, but to what I saw inside her that had been kept small and smothered for too long.
“Fuck.” I wasn’t meant to be thinking about her. On my next inhale, I gripped the arms of the chair and pushed the thoughts away.
The fire and my shadows. That was all that existed. Light and darkness. Completion. Everything in the universe contained within those two ideas and the midpoint between them where a thousand shades danced together.
By the time a knock came at my door, I was in control once more, my thoughts my own, my shadows obeying when I gathered them close and called, “Enter.”
Strawberry-blond hair appeared, framing a face that today was shuttered in a way that made me wince inwardly. “You asked to see me?”
I stood and gestured to the chair beside mine. “Please, join me.”
She gave the faintest frown as she crossed the room. I didn’t normally rise when she entered. But, then again, I didn’t normally owe her an apology.
Slowly, she sat as though she thought this might be a trap. “I don’t have long. I’ve been visiting my parents, and Faolán’s left the house a mess.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. That was a lie. Faolán, for all his hulking size and hairiness, was no beast. He was the most fastidiously clean and tidy person I knew, and he’d told me more than once about howhewas the one who had to clean up after his wife. Still, calling her out on it wasn’t the best way to start this conversation.
“I’ll get straight to it, then.” I pulled my chair to face hers before I sat. “I’m sorry, Rose. I was a prize arsehole the last time I saw you.”
Her eyebrows shot up, the shutters falling away.
I leant forward and went on, “I was angry and aggressive, and I let my shadows get completely out of hand. I snapped at you, and you deserved none of that. I didn’t mean to frighten you, and although I…” I bit my tongue. “I was feeling a lot of things, I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. I’m sorry I almost lost control, I was…” I shook my head, unable to voice everything that had been going on inside me when I’d stepped through the shadow door.
She took a long breath. “It’s all right. I understand.” The way she tilted her head and smiled softly, I believed her.
Except she couldn’t understand everything I wasn’t saying. She couldn’t know what was in my heart.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
My shadows fell still.
Shit. Shedidunderstand.
I swallowed. “Does Faolán know?”
“I mean”—she gave an exaggerated shrug—“he has eyeballs, so I dare say he does.”
With a groan I sank back in my chair. Was I so obvious? I was meant to be hiding my feelings for Kat. Not just from strangers—from everyone.
It was only a matter of time before people found out she was married, then Faolán would join the rest of them in judging me for… for whatever it was I felt for a married woman. For breaking a contract.
I raked my fingers through my hair and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes.
