She suddenly wanted to change the topic to something else, anything other than that time. It sparked a sort of yearning in her that Jo didn’t want. “So how does a demigod like you end up in a place like this?”
Snow stared at her for several breaths, so long that Jo almost began to feel awkward. It was expectant, like he was waiting for something. But Jo didn’t know what it was, and he just shook his head. “It all started with a dangerous magic, a split goddess, and the bravery of someone I loved.”
All at once, Jo’s original purpose flooded her senses, the opportunity for answers standing barely inches away.
Just one straight answer, Jo willed herself, though it hardly settled the frantic beat of her heart or the heat steadily pooling in her chest, her stomach, lower.Just get him to give you one straight answer about something important.The rest would come if she could get that out, surely. She could be satisfied for a while if she got something from him, anything.
“Snow,” Jo began, more firmly. “What magic?Whose?”
She should have expected it, considering her track record with the infuriating man, but it still settled sour and unexpected in the pit of her stomach when Snow’s expression went blank. He took a step back.
“That’s enough storytelling for one day, I believe,” Snow said, his voice cold. Jo couldn’t help but bristle.
With a huff, she took a step forward, regaining the distance he’d put between them in a single step. “You can’t keep doing this.” She frowned, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at him with what she hoped was an intimidating glare. “You can’t keep opening up just to push me away when I get too close. Or, I don’t know, just take an interest in you like a normal friend, at the very least. This back-and-forth game of emotions—it’s not fair to you, and it sure as hell isn’t fair to me.”
Though Jo saw his resolve crumbling just slightly at the corners, Snow refused to back down. “It would be best if you left.”
“There!” Jo snapped, digging a finger into his chest. “Right there! If you don’t want me around, then why let me in at all?”
All at once, the atmosphere in the room shifted, a heavy but not uncomfortable weight settling between them. Snow’s expression hardened to the point that it cracked, then softened, and his eyes scanned her expression. Slowly, slow enough that Jo could have backed away if she wanted to, Snow raised a hand to her face.
The touch was light, barely there, but it set Jo’s cheeks aflame, her heart nearly leaping into her throat. His thumb rubbed a single line against her cheekbone, the tips of his fingers resting against her neck. It reminded her vaguely of how he’d touched her in the Ranger compound. But this. . .thiswas different. There was a familiarity to it, a boldness, a (dare she think it) slightly sensual nature to such a light caress. Jo couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like when—if—he ever actually did touch her.
His words were barely more than a whisper. “It’s been so long.” It had been, since he’d last touched her. “I wanted to have a solution for you this time, one that would work.”
“This time?” Jo whispered back, leaning into his touch. “A solution for what?”
Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she really wanted to know the answer. But all she could seem to focus on currently was the feel of his fingers, the warmth of his body. She could smell a hint of him in the air between them, crisp like rain or a fresh bar of soap, but as he leaned in closer, there was something like cloves resting subtly underneath. She could drown in his presence, she realized, and while the thought should have scared her, all it made her want to do was lean in the rest of the way, press her lips to his, and—
All at once, his presence was gone, and when she blinked away the haze of desire, it was to find him back by the now-open door. At first, he said nothing, simply stood there waiting for her to leave, and while she wanted to be angry, more than anything else she was just. . . hurt.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, because she couldn’t help herself. “You want it, too. . . don’t you?” She didn’t know if she wanted to hear the answer to this, not when her heart already felt so dangerously invested, but once it was out in the open, there was nothing to be done. “You feel it. I know you do, you must.”
At this, Snow frowned, his grip on the door handle visibly tightening. “Don’t get involved with me. Not. . . Not now. It’s too dangerous. I need more time. Especially at present.”
The confusion and hurt from before began to morph once again into anger. “What does that mean? What does any of the cryptic shit you say actuallymean?”
“I’ll do my best to explain things when I can. For now, trust me, the less you know, the better,” he said softly, mostly to himself, as if he was the one who needed convincing. Snow blinked, a slow fall and rise of his eyelids, then straightened, as if catching himself in a spot he hadn’t ever intended to be—all traces of his previously open demeanor completely gone. “The wish has yet to be completed. It would probably be best for you to use your time more wisely.”
The sincerity in his first comment evaporated at once amid the heat of Jo’s anger. “Yeah, all right.” She sighed, stalking past him and back into the hall, though not without taking one last glimpse at his face. “I get it, King Snow—or is your proper title ‘demigod’ now? Either way, sorry to take up your precious time.”
She wasn’t sure, but for a split second, she could have sworn he looked upset to see her go.
Chapter 19
Needs and Brodies
JO THREW HER watch on the shelf outside one of the recreation rooms and stormed in.
She expected to find her usual hacker set-up. But what Takako had said about the rooms (now seemingly forever ago) held true—the rooms gave what was needed at the time. Or, at least it seemed to be trying. Whatever magic the rooms used to pick up on specific needs, it was obviously trying to provide what it thought might help Jo take the edge off.
Unfortunately, Jo had never really been one for bondage.
So, after taking a moment to stare at the rather outlandish sex-dungeon inside, Jo walked back into the hallway and slowly closed the door. She might have needed to let off some steam, but maybe notquitein the way the room was offering. Still, she opted for giving it another chance, inching the door back open and peeking inside.
Jo choked on an inhale at the sight before her. This time, instead of a BDSM lair, it was an almost perfect replica of Snow’s room. So eerily similar that Jo felt inclined to glance down the hall and prove to herself she hadn’t blacked out and wandered back to Snow’s door instead. She hadn’t.
“No thank you,” she insisted (though she didn’t know if it was more to herself or the room), pulling the door shut and taking a deep breath. “I’ll give you one more chance. Something simple, please.” Jo opened the door. “Much better.”
