A digital alarm clock on the antique nightstand glowed reproachfully. 1:28 a.m. Tomorrow would suck.
Flipping the blankets off, I sat up and hung my legs off the bed. My feet didn’t touch the floor. The room smelled of lilacs and potpourri, with a faint hint of the hot cocoa the maid had brought me before I’d turned my lights out. Talk about getting pampered.
Sighing, I rubbed my tired eyes. Maybe I needed a brisk walk to reset my mind and body before trying to sleep again.
I slid off the bed, wiggled my bare toes into the plush carpet, then grabbed the sweater I’d draped across the footboard and pulled it on over my tank top. My legs, bared by my skimpy PJ shorts, could stand the cold for a few minutes.
When I cracked my bedroom door open, a cool draft from the wide hall rushed inside. Shivering, I glanced up and down the endless hall, lit by soft lights. My room, Ezra’s, and Kai’s made up the west wing, while Sin was in the first of five guest rooms on the building’s east side.
The hall carpet wasn’t as thick and soft as the one in the bedroom, and a chill seeped into my bare feet. I tucked my hands into my sleeves as I walked, reminiscing about dinner. Sin had recovered from her bout of embarrassment enough to join us, and we’d all feigned memory loss over Lily’s comments. Evening salvaged.
I paused at a rain-streaked window that overlooked the front garden and circular drive, bathed in an orange glow from the scattered lampposts. A ferocious wind drove the rain sideways and moaned through the castle’s intricate architecture.
As I turned from the window, I glimpsed a hint of light from the bedroom at the end of the hall. Curious—as far as I knew, we were the Sinclair family’s only guests tonight—I tiptoed to the open door and poked my head inside. Twice the size of mine, it featured a canopied bed, a full sitting area in front of the stone fireplace, and a broad window with a built-in, deeply cushioned bench in front of it.
A warm yellow glow glimmered through the glass panes, silhouetting the figure sitting sideways across the window seat, his back against the wall and head resting against a pane. The hood of his sweater was pulled up, but I didn’t need to see his face to recognize him.
“Ezra?” I blurted.
His head turned. “Tori? What are you doing up?”
“That’s what I was going to ask you.” This wasn’t his room—his was between mine and Kai’s. I walked across the deep carpet to join him. “I’m just restless and stretching my legs. Why are you over here?”
“I was restless too, I guess.”
As I stopped beside the window seat, he tipped his head back to look up at me. The dim light caught on his features, his pale left eye gleaming like ice. All at once, I noticed details I’d somehow missed over the last couple of days: the dark circles under his eyes, the hollowness of his cheeks, the lines of stress and exhaustion around his mouth.
I’d known he was tired, but I hadn’t realized how tired.
“Oh, Ezra,” I whispered. “It’s that bad?”
He rested his head against the glass again. “I’m okay.”
Nudging his feet closer to the window, I squished onto the bench with him and leaned against his legs so we faced each other. I propped my arm on his upraised knees.
“You’re not okay,” I said firmly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
His gaze dropped and he let out a long, weary breath. “It didn’t seem like a big deal at first. I kept telling myself I’d sleep fine the next night.”
“It’s been weeks, Ezra,” I pointed out gently, unable to get upset when he looked so painfully fatigued. “I’ve hardly seen you.”
He closed his eyes again, his forehead creased. “I know. I’m sorry.”
I opened my mouth, but it took me two tries to speak the words. “I missed you.”
It wasn’t just that he’d stopped visiting me at the pub, working out with us, or coming to my apartment. It was the small things I’d missed most. Bouncing ideas off him for a college assignment. Laughing in the kitchen as he helped me prepare dinner. Wisecracking through whatever terrible film we’d picked for movie night. Spending half my afternoon making dumb jokes until his impassable poker face finally cracked, just because I could.
At my confession, his eyelids flickered, dark lashes shadowing his cheeks, but he didn’t meet my gaze. Instead, his hand closed around mine. “I missed you too.”
My heart buzzed, electrified by his admission. “How much sleep have you been getting?”
“Depends on the night. I can fall asleep, but after a few minutes, sometimes an hour or two, I wake up …” He pressed his hand to his chest, fingers tightening around the soft cotton of his hoodie. “I jolt awake with my heart pounding and adrenaline flowing and this feeling like …”
His other hand still held mine and I twisted our fingers together. “Like what?”
“Like I’m in danger. Like I need to fight something.”
“This started after Halloween, right?” I asked. “Could it be related to the fight with the Keys of Solomon?”
“That would make sense, but …” He grimaced ruefully. “This is going to sound terrible, but that isn’t the worst thing I’ve been through and I’ve never had problems sleeping before. Not like this.”
“What is the worst thing you’ve been through?”
His chin dipped down, shadows cloaking his expression. Apprehension sizzled along my nerves and I didn’t dare breathe as I waited to see what he might reveal.
Finally he spoke, the words quiet and rough. “Watching someone I love die in front of me.”
His words took a moment to sink in, then my breath caught. Without thinking, I leaned forward. My hands went into his hair and I pulled him to me, pressing his face into my shoulder. I didn’t know who he’d watched die—his mother, his father, the mysterious blond girl in the photo he kept hidden in his dresser—but I was certain he blamed himself for that person’s death. Another burden he carried, a painful scar concealed behind his warm smiles.
His hands found my waist, then he slid his arms around me.
“Don’t try to be so strong all by yourself,” I whispered.
His shoulders moved with a silent laugh. “That’s really something to hear from you, Tori.”
“Kai and Aaron have been hammering that exact lesson into my thick head for months.” My hands fisted in his hair. “You should’ve been taking notes too.”
He let out a long exhale, his warm breath brushing across my neck, and I shivered. Somehow, I was sitting sideways across his lap, my legs hanging off the seat as I held his head against my shoulder. His arms were around me, hands tangled in the hem of my sweater.
My treacherous heart thudded too quickly, and tantalizing heat seeped through my center like a slow tide.
He rested his forehead in the crook of my neck. As I fought an internal battle with my stupid libido, his quiet breaths slowed. His weight against me grew heavier. One hand slid from my waist to my hip, his forearm resting languidly on my thigh.
I closed my eyes, intensely aware of every spot where our bodies touched. It hadn’t used to be like this, but now I couldn’t control my thoughts, my silent reaction. Couldn’t stop wondering what would happen if his hand slipped a little lower, if his palm slid down the hem of my shorts, if his warm fingers pressed against my bare thigh.
I pulled myself together. “Ezra,” I breathed, combing my fingers through his hair. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
He dragged his head up and my shoulder instantly felt cold. I hopped off his lap and tugged him to his feet. Locking our hands together, I led him out of the bedroom and down the cool, quiet hallway. Eyes hazy with exhaustion that had been building for weeks, he followed like he had no idea where I was taking him and didn’t care.
I could lead him into my room. Push him into my bed. Climb in with him.
My feet carried us past my door to his room. The interior was dark, the bed a hulking shadow—and, I noted dryly, it was a significantly larger room than mine.
“Go sleep,” I ordered, giving him a gentle push across the threshold.
He turned, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness, sweater rumpled, curls tangled from my fingers. “Tori …”
His whisper was husky, almost shy, and for a moment, I was convinced he was about to invite me into his room. Into his bed. And the thought ripped the floor from under my feet.
He stepped back. “Thank you.”
Turning, he sleepily wandered to his bed. Before I could do something stupid, like follow him, I reached in, grabbed the handle, and pulled his door shut. The latch snicked, and I let out a shuddering breath.
Chapter Seven
There was tired, and then there was tired. Guess which one best described me this morning?
As my alarm clock blinked to 6:56 a.m., I pulled a knitted green beanie over my ears. My snug long-sleeved shirt was hidden under a breathable sweater with an athletic wear company’s logo on the front, and my tight leggings would barely insulate my legs against the morning cold.
Stifling a yawn, I picked up my shoes. The third-floor hall was quiet and I figured Aaron was already warming up. My ability to run for more than two minutes was a work in progress, but progress was happening. I reminded myself of that as I stumped reluctantly down the stairs.
Normally I worked out with Aaron and Kai, but Kai had different plans today—he was meeting with some alumni friends for a special electramage training exercise. This morning’s run would be just me and Aaron, and I was looking forward to it. The guys did almost everything together, so one-on-one time with any of them was rare—plus, based on Aaron’s itinerary, I wouldn’t be seeing much of him for the rest of the week.
The footman appeared in the vestibule as I walked in.
“Hey, it’s Brett, right?” I asked as I pulled on my runners. “Don’t you get time off?”
He grinned. “Dominic does the afternoon-evening shift, and I do the early one.”
“So you’re up at this time every morning? Ouch.” I waved cheerfully as I passed him. “We’ll be back in an hour, so catch a snooze while we’re gone.”
Chuckling, he disappeared through the side door into the coat room or whatever was back there. I pushed the front door open and walked out onto the steps. I was right that Aaron would already be out here and warming up.
But he, uh … he wasn’t alone.
At least a dozen men and women around his age were doing warm-up stretches in the driveway, all dressed to run. They chatted casually, perky and energetic like proper morning people. I stood on the top step, my confusion shifting to alarm. I was nowhere near fit enough to run with these super-athletic mages.
Aaron, bent in a hamstring stretch between two beautiful women, spotted me. Laughing at something one of the women had said, he broke away and jogged up the steps.
“Hey Tori,” he said airily. “I know we were going to run this morning, but I didn’t realize they already had one planned.”
“Oh,” I said after a beat of silence.
“You’re welcome to come along, but we go pretty hard. It’d be tough for you.”
Aaron’s voice was carrying through the still, cold morning air as clearly as if he were using a bullhorn. Listening in on every word, the super-mages scanned me like I was a geriatric grandma with a walker who’d just limped onto a football field.
“It’ll be tough for you, Sinclair,” someone called. “You’ve gone soft at your city guild.”
“Like hell I have!” Aaron shouted back, an edge of challenge in his grin and a competitive fire in his eyes. He was down the steps in three hops, then he turned, walking backward as he said, “Why don’t you take a day off, Tori? You were wanting a break.”
I opened my mouth, but he didn’t wait for my response. He trotted to the front of the group, bantering with a hulking blond guy four inches taller than him. The two men broke into a loping jog down the driveway. As the others fell in after them, passing the steps where I stood, I spotted the three nasty alumni who’d insulted Aaron yesterday.
He was ditching me to run with them? Didn’t he know what they thought of him?
The alumni group vanished around the curving drive. I stood alone on the steps, dressed to run but with nowhere to go. Drawing in a breath of chilly air, I peered around, wondering if I should jog on my own … around grounds I didn’t know … with only my thoughts for company.
Yeah, screw that.
Shoulders drooping, I walked back inside. Brett must’ve taken my advice because he didn’t appear. I hastened up to the third floor, only remembering that I was still wearing my running shoes when I tripped on the last step. Swearing, I kicked my shoes off, picked them up, and hurried to my room.
As I grabbed the handle, the next door down opened. Ezra appeared, wearing a rumpled t-shirt and boxers. “Tori?”
“Sorry,” I said hastily. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
The early morning sun highlighted every haggard line of his face, confirming his need for more rest—way more rest. The circles under his eyes were darker than yesterday, dashing my hopes that he’d gotten some sleep after our talk last night.
He rubbed his face, then squinted at me with more focus. “Aren’t you running this morning?”
With anyone else, I would’ve made up an excuse rather than admit I’d been ditched, but Ezra wasn’t anyone else. “Aaron decided to run with the alumni instead.”
In an instant, Ezra was fully awake—and uncharacteristic anger darkened his features. “Okay. Just give me a minute.”
He disappeared into his room while I blinked dumbly.
“A minute for what?” I asked, walking to his open door. As I stuck my head in, he pulled the same hoodie from last night over his t-shirt, then rustled in his suitcase for a toque like mine, but blue. He’d already donned a pair of black sweatpants.
I finally clued in. My sleep-deprived brain was not performing at its best this morning.
“No, Ezra!” I exclaimed. “It’s fine. You’re exhausted. You need to—”
“I’m good.” He flashed me a grin as he tugged his socks on. “I haven’t gone on a run in a while. It’ll be good for me.”
“But—”
Catching me with one arm, he drew me out the door. “Let’s go for a run, Tori.”
“But—”
Arm around my waist, he leaned down, almost bumping our foreheads together. “You can’t talk me out of it.”
No, I could not. Not when the sudden closeness of his face had imploded my thoughts.
Back out in the crisp December air, we did a round of stretches, then we were off. Ezra led the way, following a groomed gravel path into the sweeping lawns behind the manor. We’d never run together before, but it was easy; he slowed to a walk whenever I started gasping too pathetically, and his warm encouragements were a nice change from Kai’s barked commands.
I loved Kai, but he was one hell of a hard-ass.
That wasn’t to say Ezra let me off easy. Whenever I was certain I couldn’t run anymore, he’d call me on, cajoling me into that extra fifty feet before I slowed. We made a wide circle around the academy buildings, and by the time we’d reached the manor’s sprawling back lawn again, I was spent.
Steps dragging and chest heaving, I groaned pathetically. “You might be worse than Kai.”
“Me?” he asked, all innocence.
I decided not to explain how I couldn’t let him down when he had so much faith that I could keep up—and as a result, I was trying hard not to puke on the grass.
“Next time,” he said, bending his arm behind his head in a stretch as we walked, “we won’t go so easy.”
“Easy?” I spluttered, aghast. “That was the toughest run I’ve done yet!”
“Twenty miles next time, minimum.”
“Twenty? You’re insane if you think—” I glimpsed his sparkling eyes and burst out with a laugh. “Oh my god.”
His grin broke free, lighting up his face and erasing the signs of his exhaustion. He looped
his arm around my waist and pulled me against him, not breaking stride.
“You did great.” He smiled down at me. “Every time I thought you were done, you kept going.”
My cheeks flushed and I couldn’t miss the heat rising from his body and soaking through my clothes—but his arm was already sliding away. I straightened, cheeks still warm, and wondered if I was imagining that he was touching me more than usual. Had he missed me the way I’d missed him over these past weeks?
He stopped, hands on his hips as he surveyed the lazy slope that swept up to the towering manor. “All right. Time for our final sprint.”
I snorted. “Yeah, uh-huh.”
“I’m serious. We always finish our workouts with something competitive.”
Like competitive pushups. I shivered at the reminder.
“This is the starting line. That tree is the finish. First one there wins.”
“What’s the prize?” I folded my arms, eyeing the distance. Not that far but not twenty yards either. “You, Aaron, and Kai always bet something.”
He rubbed the hint of shadow along his jaw. “Winner’s choice, I guess.”
Ooh, I liked the sound of that. Grinning, I got into a starting position. “You’re on.”
He took the same position. Clearing his throat, he deepened his voice to mimic a sports announcer. “On your mark. Get set. G—”
“What’s that?” I gasped, pointing behind him.
He snapped around to look—and I launched into a mad sprint, arms pumping. Ezra swore and took off after me, but I had a head start. I would reach the finish first and totally win this.
Right as I drew level with the target tree, hands caught my waist. Ezra swept me off the ground, still running—an impossible feat if not for his inhuman strength. He stopped just past the tree, laughing too hard to hold me up. My back slid down his chest and my feet landed in the grass.
The Alchemist and an Amaretto: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Five Page 6