When Aidan lowered his can, he caught me staring at him. I almost slumped with relief when he said, “Not too bad,” instead of calling me out for staring.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good, right? And cheap. There’s loads to love about it.”
“Don’t know if I’d say love.”
“Just get the food out, Mr. Critic.”
He pulled several cartons out of the bag, along with a paper-wrapped parcel of Naan bread. I made grabby hands, and he passed me a carton that smelled like curry.
“Okay,” I said as I swallowed a bite that I’d scooped up with the bread, “I’m officially thanking you for bringing this over. It’s amazing.”
“No problem.”
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Once the beast was sated, I asked, “So, you’ve got some healing ability and you’re a full Elemental Mage. What else can you do?”
“Turn into any creature, real or mythical,” he said. “You know, nothing interesting. Just griffons and dragons—that sort of thing.”
“Cocky.” I punched him in the shoulder. “Anything else?”
“You’ll just have to get to know me better.”
That wasn’t going to happen. “Have you ever heard of another shifter/Magica hybrid?”
He shook his head. “I was an only child. My father was the Origin before me, and my mother was Magica. I don’t know why it passed down to me, but I’ve never met another.”
I scowled into my now-empty carton. I liked Aidan. For his sake, it was great he was powerful. Like, ridiculously powerful. But no one was throwing him in prison. Just my kind.
Self-disgust washed over me. I needed to quit moping. Just because this threat was looming over our heads didn’t mean I wouldn’t get us out of it. And people had an actual good reason to fear FireSouls. If we were power-hungry monsters, we’d have a good reason to go on a killing, power-collecting rampage.
“You okay?” Aidan asked.
“Yeah, just tired.” A food coma was coming on. My eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each.
“You need to practice your magic,” Aidan said. “If you did, you wouldn’t be so exhausted after using it.”
“Sounds like a me-problem, not a you-problem.”
“It’s a me-problem if you’re working for me.”
I scowled at him. “I’m not working for you for long, so don’t worry about it.”
“Then it’s a problem because I like you,” he added.
His words hit me right between the eyes. This was why relationships were dangerous. People worried about you and poked into your personal stuff. And my personal stuff was enough to get me locked up in hell. I needed to forget how freaking hot he was and move on.
“Uh, it’s time for me to hit the hay. Thanks for bringing dinner.”
“Fine. We’ll table this for now, but it’s not done. It’s not safe for you to do your job if you can’t control your powers. You’re unique. You need to be able to control that.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“For now.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Hang on.”
“Yeah?”
He didn’t say anything, but his healing warmth soaked into my shoulder. I barely resisted leaning into him, but it felt so good. Once he removed his hand, I felt amazingly better. Not one hundred perfect, but definitely able to leave the house.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven,” he said as he got up.
“All right. Let’s meet at Potions & Pastilles. I can’t function at that hour without coffee.” And I didn’t need him coming back to my place again.
“Okay.” He let himself out.
His footsteps were silent on the stairs as I walked to the window. I watched him cross the street to his car and pull away, then I tugged on my jacket. It was past ten, but there was a good chance Dr. Garriso was still at work. He preferred the night hours.
On my way out, I went to my trove and quickly chose another pair of daggers. They weren’t enchanted to return to me, but they were wickedly sharp. And the shiny copper hilt looked badass.
I crept down the stairs past Nix’s door and out into the street. Clouds rolled in front of the moon, casting the night in shadows. Cecelia, old faithful herself, sat at the curb looking out of place on the trendy street. Her black paint was chipped and the bumper needed some work, but she still got me where I needed to be, so I was keeping her.
The streets of Magic’s Bend were quiet as I drove through town. Things were only hopping on the weekends, and usually that activity was centered around the historic district where most of the bars were. The Museum of Magical History, where Dr. Garriso worked, was only a few miles from my apartment. I pulled into the quiet parking lot.
Rain started to fall as I hurried around the side of the building. Dr. Garriso's office was on the bottom floor at the back. The boring part, he said, where the visitors didn’t want to go. When I reached his little window, I tapped on it. The golden glow of his lamps gleamed through the layer of dust on the window, and I could just make out his form rising from his desk.
I ran over to the door and hopped up and down as I waited for him. The rain was coming down harder now, and I wasn’t a fan.
“Come in, come in!” he said as he unlocked the museum’s back door.
I stepped into the narrow linoleum hallway. “Thanks. It’s really starting to come down out there.”