I can instantly tell an Elite witch has bound and marked Amos, even though I can't see the sigil. Gods, I really fucking need to learn how to undo that bullshit.
It occurs to me that Theo may now be able to remove bindings. Yes, that seems extremely possible, especially after burning that dark shit out of Drakeward.
I’ll talk to her about it later.
In the meantime, I need to keep this old man safe.
“You will make no attempt to end your life.”
His eyes glaze over slightly as he nods. “I won’t try to take my life.” This is reassuring, but Bernard Amos still looks two seconds away from a complete breakdown. I guess I’ll give him a shot of my witchy SSRI. My grandmother had taught me this magic spell to absorb the emotions of the unwary.
And though it makes the subject pliable, it’s not a pleasant experience for the caster.
I weave the magic, and immediately pain and guilt flood my veins. Amos’s breathing grows steady as I battle to control my own. So much regret.
I’m drowning in his shame.
Finally, Amos’ eyelids grow heavy, his wild gaze softening. I release my hold on his psyche. “Go sleep it off,” I tell him.
He stumbles to his feet. “Feniks? What are you doing here?”
“Go to your room, sleep for four hours.”
That should take care of him for now. When my beautiful girl is awake, we can work on a way to unbind him.
Back in my apartment, I flick on the heating and look around the sterile, bare space.
Gray walls. Gray furniture. No photos. No life.
Before Theo, this was all I needed. A barracks. A place to store my body while looking for Max.
Now? It feels like a prison.
I close my eyes and I can still smell her on my skin—lilac and petrichor. I remember the way she melted into me when I held her in the basement, trusting me completely despite everything I’ve failed at in the past.
She makes me want to be a man who deserves a home.
I pull out my phone just to look at her contact photo—a candid shot I took when she wasn't looking, laughing as she clung to a wall during our Parkour sessions. Her nose is crinkled, her eyes bright silver.
Beautiful.
I trace her face on the screen with my thumb. Gods know what the future holds, but it will be with Theo at my side or not at all.
I hate being away from her.
Even though I trust Ludo as a protector, it’s not enough.
Pulling open a drawer, I let out a sigh of relief when I find half a pack of cigarettes. Probably should quit now that I’ve something to live for—but I’ll not worry about that today. I light up and suck the smoke deep down into my lungs. My body relaxes instantly.
The nicotine helps to burn away the sticky, lingering sensation of Bernard Amos’s desperate psychic noise.
It's shame and guilt that saturate his aura. And so much regret. Whatever his crimes are, at least the old professor retains the mental clarity to accept responsibility.
A functional conscience is rare these days.
Stubbing out the cigarette, I shift gears.
The first item on the checklist, obviously, is to ensure Theo’s safety. The debacle of my time as Royal Guard haunts me daily.
