I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re not keeping me here. I’m choosing to be here.”
A cocky grin spreads across his face that puzzles the pixies out of me. “So, you want to be here with us, then?”
I replay what I said, and then I want to bitch smack myself. “That’s not what I meant,” I scoff, raising my chin. “I’m only here because of the bargain I made with Asher.”
East’s grin broadens. “Then, technically, we’re keeping you.” When I shake my head, he continues, “Either we’re keeping you here or you’re choosing to be here. It can’t be both.” He tucks a strand of my long, brown hair behind my ear. “Personally, either way is appealing, so it’s a win-win situation for me.”
My lips twitch in annoyance, but that annoyance is directed more at myself for not being able to go to toe-to-toe with him. I used to be better than this, could hold my own. Right now, though, I’m flustered from his flirty smiles, his touches, the way they’re all staring at me like everything East is saying is true.
I step back, hoping to clear my head and get some of my game back. “Whatever. It doesn’t even matter why I’m here. All that matters is that, when this deal is over, I’m gonna go home and back to my old life that doesn’t include the three of you.” I grin, though my heart rate quickens at the idea.
Panicking.
I’m panicking about going back to my home because, truthfully, I don’t really have a home. All I have are the streets, my thieving skills, and Jason, though I’m not even sure he remembers me anymore. Honestly, even if he did, I’m not certain I’d see him the same way as I used to. After spending time with Asher, East, and Arrow, my perception on friendship has shifted, my expectations rising.
The room suddenly trembles and, for a moment, I think one of the guys is doing it. Then I feel power flickering through me and realize my dumbass is losing control over my power again.
“Sweetheart,” East says, his eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t want him to see what lies inside them. What lies inside me.
“I need to go do … something,” I mumble then bolt out of the room.
Only when I get into my room and take a deep breath am I able to get my powers under control. Then I pad over to the bed and lie down, staring up at the ceiling and trying to sort through my racing thoughts. My head is a clusterfuck of emotions that I’ve never felt before, so I’m not sure how to handle them.
For most of my life, I’ve kept myself emotionally closed off. And for a good reason, since the moment I fall in love with someone, they’ll die, thanks to the curse Asher’s father put on me a long time ago.
I’ve always succeeded at keeping those emotions bottled up. I used to believe it was because I was some sort of badass emotions controller, but I’m starting to become aware that I was wrong. That I was able to control my emotions better because I’d never gotten close enough to someone that tested my strength. Now …
I shake my head. No, I’m not going to do this. I won’t lose control and make others suffer.
Get your head back in the game, Harlynn.
I lie in bed, trying to do just that, until someone knocks on my door.
I almost remain quiet, pretend to be asleep, but they keep on knocking.
Sighing, I call out, “Come in.”
The door is opened up, and East walks in with a cautious look on his face, which is weird for him.
“Hey,” he greets with a small smile—again, a strange move for him.
I sit up, studying him. “Why are you acting weird?”
He presses his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “I came in here to check on you and you say I’m being weird? How you wound my heart.”
I roll my eyes as I scoot to the edge of the bed and dig out the drumstick from my back pocket that’s poking me in the ass cheek. “You’re such a drama queen.”
“I’m the drama queen?” he questions, arching his brow. “You’re the one who keeps bailing out of the room right in the middle of a conversation.”
“I’ve done it one time.” I hold up a finger.
“Actually, you’ve done it three times over the last forty-eight hours.”
I crinkle my nose, fiddling with the drumstick. “Has it really been that many times?”
He nods, crossing the room toward me. “Yes, it has.” He pauses when he gets in front of me, briefly deliberating something before sinking down on the bed beside me, sitting so close that our knees touch.
Just a little bit ago, I would’ve made a big show of sliding away, but I remain where I am, too tired to move or care.
Yeah, that’s it, Harlynn. You’re too tired, my thoughts mock me.
East brushes a few strands of my hair out of my eyes. “So, what’re you running from?”
“Nothing. I just need a break from you guys.” Not a total lie.
Still, it feels like one.
It’s frustrating.
I’m frustrated with myself.
Frustrated with the curse.
Frustrated that I’m losing control of something, yet I don’t even sure what that something is.
Or maybe I do and just don’t want to admit it.
I start restlessly twirling the drumstick as frustration grows inside me. The room starts to quiver with my restlessness, which only makes me grow more frustrated.
“Sweetheart.” Concern fills his voice as he lightly places a hand on my leg. “You need to calm down.”
I’ve spent a lot of my life not being touched, not feeling skin touching skin. Usually, I’m a pro at not caring, but my mind must be too distracted right now, because the moment the warmth of his skin touches mine, any rein on my power slips and the whole bed jolts. Then the drumstick slips from my fingers and hits me square in the eye.
“Ow,” I whimper, covering my eye with my hand.
East smashes his lips together, pressing back a grin.
“This isn’t funny,” I try to argue. “Gods, it hurts so bad.”
A chuckle slips from his lips. “You know, I’m just realizing I haven’t actually seen you do anything clumsy until now. It’s kind of entertaining.”
I aim a dirty look at him, but I’m not sure I reach the mark since I can only use one eye. “You haven’t seen me be clumsy because I’m not clumsy. It’s part of why I’m such an excellent thief.”
His grin is filled with wicked delight. “And yet, here we are, sitting on the bed, and somehow you nearly manage to poke out your eye.”
“My hands were sweaty and the drumstick slipped from them,” I insist.
“Hmm …” is all he says while studying me. Then he leans toward me and wraps his fingers around my wrist. “I better take a look at it and make sure it’s still there.” He gently removes my hand from my eye.
My eye twitches against the light, water overflowing it.
“Aw, it’s all red.” He traces a path underneath my injured eye, his lips twitching to turn upward. “Such a shame for something so beautiful to look so nasty.”
I can’t stop a small smile from tugging at my lips, but then I sigh. “Does it really look nasty?”
He wavers. “That all depends on what you consider nasty.”
I start to get up to look in the mirror and see for myself, but he captures my arm and pulls me back down.
“Okay, so I don’t want you to panic,” he starts, “but I think, somehow, some of Darla’s magic may have gotten on Arrow’s drumstick while she was here.”
My brows knit. “You think some of that nasty fire demon’s magic got on the drumstick?”
I expect him to tease me about sounding jealous or something. Instead, he bites down on his bottom lip, hesitancy written all over his pretty face. And that makes me kind of worried.
“Why would you think that?”
When he continues to hesitate, I jump to my feet and rush over to the mirror. As I catch sight of my reflection, part of me wishes I’d been poked both of my eyes so I couldn’t see.
N
ot only is my eye swollen and puffy, but what looks like liquid fire is leaking out of it.
I squint at my reflection, panic rushing through me. “Oh my gods, is this permanent?”
East rises to his feet and moves up behind me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It’s not that awful. Or, well, it’s not as nasty as I originally thought it was.” He reaches around and brushes his fingers along my cheek. “In fact, I think you might be able to work the leaking-liquid-fire-out-of-your-eyes look. With the right outfit, of course.”
I glare at him in the mirror. “I’m glad you find this funny, because I sure don’t.” I pull a face at my reflection. “Great. I already looked freaky as it is. This is just gonna add to that.”
“You think you look freaky?” he questions with confused amusement.
I shrug. “Yeah. It’s why people are always staring at me. Now that I’ve found out I’m some weird-ass rare creature, it makes sense.”
He sighs heavily. “Oh, Harlynn.”
It’s weird he called me by my name instead of one of the many nicknames he’s given me.
“Oh, East,” I mimic then say, “What’s with the sigh, faerie dude?”
He shakes his head and mutters, “So snarky.”
I cross my arms. “Like you’re not?”
“Oh, I totally am, which makes us perfect for each other.” He tries to dazzle me with a sparkly grin.
I give him a bored look, to which he responds with a grin.
“Pretend all you want,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. “We both know you secretly agree with me.”
I dramatically roll my eyes. “In your dreams, faerie.”
“And maybe in yours.”
“Don’t you dare go in my dreams,” I warn as I recall what Asher told me about East being able to enter creatures’ dreams, but only if you give him permission.
“I won’t ever do that without your permission.” He smirks haughtily. “Which will happen one day.”
I roll my eyes again. “No, it won’t.”
“We’ll see.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. I can tell he’s totally getting off on getting under my skin.
“Yeah, you will see when it doesn’t happen.” I smirk, but it fades as my gaze strays back to my reflection in the mirror. Glittering orange liquid is pooling in the corner of my now red eye.
Awesome. It’s getting worse.
“Great, I’m probably gonna have to wear an eye patch now, and I don’t think I can pull off the pirate look very well.” I aim for a joke, hoping to make myself feel a bit better, but the fact that my words might carry some truth doesn’t help the situation.
East chuckles, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him. “Actually, I think you’d make a sexy pirate.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Um, no, I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, you would, but all of this is beside the point.” He dips his lips toward my ear. “Because,” he whispers while carrying my gaze in the mirror, “I can fix your eye with my magic.”
I perk up. “Really?”
He nods, his lips brushing across my ear. “Yes, really.”
A shiver rolls through my body as he slips his hands slightly under the hem of my shirt and brushes it across my belly. I don’t care at the moment, though. All I care about is that he can fix my creepy eye.
“How? And please don’t say that I have to, like, eat a demon scale or something like that.” I glance at my eye again as if floods with so much fiery liquid that I can’t see out of it. It’s starting to hurt, too, a dull ache that’s slowly building. “Although, I probably would if I have to.”
“You say that now, but I suspect the moment you smelled the dragon scale, you might decide that rocking an eye patch is a much better alternative.”
“Why? What do they smell like?”
“Like the Wastelands spawned a baby with a sewer rat demon.”
“I don’t even know what either or those are, but it sounds gross.”
“It’s completely gross.” He lightly kisses my ear before turning me around to face him. “Do you trust me?” he asks, studying me with his head slightly angled to the side.
“Um …” While the question sounds simple enough, trust is a huge deal to me. If I say yes, it’s basically admitting that I like him. And doing that could be disastrous for several different reasons. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because, in order to fix your eye, you’re going to have to trust me.”
Nervousness edges through me. “Why? What do you have to do exactly?”
He rubs his lips together as he skims his thumb along the corner of my eye. “I have to put some of my magic in you.”
“Okay.” I’m so confused. “What’s the big deal? Yesterday, I ate that cotton candy that was made of your magic.”
“Oh, I remember that very clearly,” he promises me with a grin. “But this … it works a little bit differently.”
“How so?” I ask. When he dithers, my nerves double. “Maybe I should just go get help from Arrow.” I start to step away, but he settles his hands on my waist, holding me in place.
“Arrow doesn’t have that kind of magic, so he can’t help you with this,” he reminds me. Then he nibbles on his bottom lip, contemplating. “Remember when we were trapped by the worlds patrol while we were Shimmerland and Asher, Arrow, and I put our magic in you?”
I bob my head up and down, at first confused, but then it clicks.
“Wait … You have to kiss me?” Shaking my head, I slant back. “No. There has to be another way to put your magic in me.”
Wisps of his blond hair fall into his eyes as he shakes his head. “There’s not. Or, well, I can put it in your skin, but it takes way longer for that to kick in.” His eyes flick to my injured eye. “And considering the rapid rate the magic is taking you over, I’m going to suggest not taking the slower way.”
“Rapid rate it’s taking me …? Wait—is this going to spread throughout my body?” I ask in horror.
When he gives a reluctant nod, I cast a glance in the mirror again then cringe. The fiery liquid that was leaking out of my eye has now taken over my eye completely and is spreading down my face. I hurriedly lift my hand to wipe it off, but East captures my fingers.
“Don’t touch it,” he warns. “If you do, it’ll spread faster.”
I grimace, turning back toward him. “I think maybe we should sterilize the place just in case any more of this is covering stuff.”
“Normally, after a demon visits us, we do wipe everything down, but we’ve been too distracted.”
While he doesn’t say it aloud, I know he secretly means: distracted because of me.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
He quickly shakes his head, molding his palm against my cheek. “We weren’t distracted just because of you. We’ve all had a lot of things on our minds.”
“But I’m part of it,” I point out. “If I wasn’t here with my creepy, unknown identity and my weird-ass powers that can put an entire planet on lockdown, you’d have way less distractions.”
“Yeah, so?” he says, traveling his hand down my face to my jawline then down my neck. “You’re the most fucking wonderful distraction.” His gaze tracks the path of his hand as his fingers skim the side of my neck, right along my pulse.
Do not let your heart race, Harlynn. Just stay calm. He’s just touching you. It’s not a big deal. In fact, you should stop him.
But that contact, that skin-to-skin connection is rendering me motionless, and my heart, the traitorous bastard, seems to really like it. Well, like/fear it.
Honestly, I feel very contradicting right now, like there are two parts of me, pulling me in two different directions.
“Your heart’s racing so fast,” he murmurs, his gaze scrolling up to meet mine. “Am I making you nervous?”
While I trust East enough, I’m not about to admit to a faerie that he’s making me nervous. That’s like handing over your worst fear to a fear-eating demon.
<
br /> I shake my head. “No. The demon’s magic must be doing it.”
“Hmm …” He rubs his lips together, his gaze burrowing into me. “I guess we should probably get it out of you then.”
“Yeah, you definitely should.” I cringe at the breathlessness of my tone.
“So, does that mean you trust me?” East asks, pressing back a grin.
Do I? I mean, I guess I do in a way. Like, I know he won’t hurt me or anything like that. But this is different. This is basically trusting him to …
To what exactly?
Kiss me?
“Do you have to kiss me?” I wonder aloud. “Or can you just touch my lips with yours?”
He bites back an amused smile. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No, it’s not. If you think it’s a kiss, then it’s a kiss. And you can’t put your tongue in my mouth or anything like that.”
He juts out his lip. “Well, that’s no fun.”
“Dude, you’re getting a magic demon spell infection out of my eye. None of this should be fun.”
“Touching you is always fun,” he says with a grin. When I give him a really look, he sighs. “Oh, fine. I won’t put my tongue in your mouth.”
“Good.” I stand straighter, resting my hands on his bare shoulders. “Then I trust you to do this.”
His tongue slips out to wet his lips, his eyes briefly shadowing over. I’ve seen this happen before but still don’t know why it happens. He’s always told me the story was for a later time. I wish I knew, though, what darkness lies inside him. One day, I hope he tells me.
He doesn’t put his lips to mine right away, hesitating. I’m about to tell him to get this over with when he dips his head forward and seals his lips to mine. He doesn’t slip his tongue into my mouth, keeping his promise, something I like him a bit more for. The problem is that, the moment his sparkling magic slips into my mouth, floods my taste buds, and pours down my throat, something snaps inside me. I’m not even sure what it is, but it causes me to lose control.
Before I can even process what I’m doing, I’m slipping my tongue into his mouth.
What the actual hell did I just do?
Chasing Steel: Capturing Magic Books 1-3 Page 31