I tilt my head and feel the blood drain from my face at the sound of my real name. “Who are you, really?” I lower my outstretched hand, frowning down at the card. Is this even real?
“I am the co-owner of Full Throttle, like the card says, but I’m also a dragon.”
“A dragon.” I squint up at him. I’ve heard of dragons. My mother told me about them when I was growing up, but I’ve never actually met one. Or maybe I have and just wasn’t aware. He looks remarkably human. Now that I think about it, there was one person, the man who did my calf tattoo. His mind had pressed against mine, and I’d thought he might be a dragon. I’d never confirmed as much, though. If you don’t ask personal questions, you rarely have to answer them.
Besides, my understanding is that they are extremely secretive about their identities and blend in seamlessly among humans.
You know what I am. The words run through my head, but they aren’t my thoughts. I hear them in his voice, as if he’s speaking directly into my mind. I raise my mental shields and shove. He starts and blinks a few times. “I don’t have the wrong person. You’re a witch, and I need your help.”
I crumple the business card in my fist. “I can’t help you. I don’t use magic anymore.”
He waves a hand. “You just did when you pushed me out of your mind. And don’t tell me your voice doesn’t ring with it. I practically felt it dance across my skin out there.”
I shake my head. “That’s intrinsic power. I am a witch. Magic lives in me. But I can’t cast spells. I certainly can’t analyze the magic in this object of yours.”
His brow rumples. “Why not?”
My fist squeezes the card tighter, the edges of the cardboard digging into my skin. I don’t owe this dragon an explanation. The reason I can’t use magic anymore is as humiliating as it is personal. It would take me hours to explain, hours that I don’t have. It’s late. I have work in the morning. I raise my chin and look Seb in the eyes. “Suffice it to say that I overused my magic a year ago and fried my circuits. Actually, auditioning for your label with Raven’s Wish was the low point in that journey. I haven’t used my magic since.”
“You look better now,” he mumbles.
I sigh. I do feel better. Almost normal. And I won’t jeopardize that. “My healer says I may be able to practice again someday, but honestly, I’m not interested.” I don’t like the way Seb’s studying me, almost as if he’s sympathetic. Almost as if he cares deeply. He doesn’t care. Seb is not my friend. He’s a stranger who wants something from me, just like everyone else. I hate the way I’m charmed by him. I hate the way I feel like I owe him something for carrying me in here. Most of all, I hate how my heart still clings to the tiniest bit of hope that my singing career isn’t over, that he could be the key to my redemption in the industry.
But that’s impossible. I can’t do magic, which means I can’t do what he wants, which means he won’t give me what I want.
“There are ways,” he says softly. “Working together, we may be able to revive your magic sooner. Dragons have healing energy?—”
“I said no.” I don’t mean for it to sound like a hammer falling, but it does. I am not going to allow this stranger, this species of supernatural whom I don’t even know or trust, to tempt me into using my magic again.
At least the no seems to work. Seb bows his head for a moment. When he looks at me again, he seems resolved. “Okay. But if you change your mind, here is what I’m willing to offer you: a two-album contract with a top-tier advance and a full PR and advertising budget.”
I snort. “I don’t even have enough songs written for one album, let alone two.”
He smiles almost smugly. “You will, once I start working with you. You’ll be given a cottage with a recording studio you can live in and work in around the clock, chef and housekeeping included.” He smiles a little. “And honestly, after what I saw out there, you don’t need any help with your stage presence. I’m picturing a tour of twenty or so cities once the album drops. Something to really maintain the momentum after release.”
My eyes sting with gathering tears. Goddess, damn it all, what he offers would be a dream come true. But I shake my head. “Sorry. I just can’t.”
He studies me again, shakes his head, then stares at me harder. Takes a step closer. Fuck, his eyes are…glowing, and he’s sweating, like he might be ill.
I raise a hand and almost touch him. When did he move in so close? “Hey, are you okay?”
He shakes his head and turns away from me. “Yes. Just need some air.” Fumbling with his wallet, he throws a fifty on the small counter next to a can of hair spray.
“What’s that for?”
“A drink. Dinner, if you need it. I’m sorry I upset you, Zoe. It truly was an amazing set.” He turns and slips through the door, leaving me staring after him, surrounded by the sandalwood and spice scent of his cologne.
Chapter Six
SEB
So much for the witch idea. Zoe Willow will not be helping us. Whatever occurred before, she’s either lost her ability or lost her drive to do magic. Either way, she’s not a good fit. It’s hard for me to imagine what scenario would cause this to be true, but I know she wasn’t lying. Her voice may reverberate with magic when she sings, but it couldn’t hide her disappointment. And her expression as she turned down what was obviously her dream offer was nothing short of devastated. The scent of salt in her tears lingers in my nose. If Zoe had any choice, I am sure she would have said yes.
As it is, I’m afraid I destroyed her tonight. I picture her crying in that insult of a dressing room, and my dragon roils inside my skin, begging me to go back there and kiss her tears away, push that short white dress up around her waist and pound into her until she can’t remember any sadness at all. I growl.
What an incredibly inappropriate thought.
I am not the type of executive that has affairs with the talent. I’ve always lived by the motto that you do not dip your pen in the company ink. That’s a good way to get into some serious legal and ethical trouble. My inner dragon may be a horny, unrefined beast, but even in my alignment, I know better.
