I rocked back in my seat, the pale-pine scrawl blurring. Ezra didn’t make flippant comments.
Over the next few hours, The Happy Rooster filled with people taking refuge from the rain. Every chair and table had a body occupying it. I even had one of Ezra’s enforcers come in and fill in a gap at the bar, so I’d have the only seat left.
I felt Quinn leave the library and prepared myself to offer her a spot at my table the moment Matt turned her away. Her cloak-covered body wove through the full tables. But instead of Matt turning her away, she shrugged off her wet cloak.
I didn’t like what I saw. Her work-study uniform hung off her thin frame.
Matt blanched and looked toward me before snapping his gaze back to her. They exchanged words that didn’t look friendly. Quinn’s jaw set in a stubborn line before she slipped into the back. The pain I’d felt in Quinn’s hamstrings the very first morning I was awake came back to me. I just assumed she’d hurt herself or, at worst, been hazed by another of my trainees. Nothing showed up in my reports, so I let it go.
I shouldn’t have. Something was off. I stood from my table and walked to the bar, getting Matt’s attention.
“Who just went in the back?” I asked as casually as I could.
Matt paled. “Uh, just a new dishwasher.”
I narrowed my eyes. I’d seen the woman’s schedule. At most, she could wash dishes for an hour this morning in place of her breakfast.
A bad feeling crept into my gut. “Do you feed her?”
“Ah, sometimes.” Matt put his hands out. “If something gets sent back.”
I didn’t like this. Not at all. But unless I used my authority to change it, clueing her into exactly who I was, I had to watch it play out.
Quinn needed to meet me, not the Architect, first.
I ordered a coffee refill and returned to my seat. Her heart beat with mine, and with only half a mind on my reading, I listened and felt. Whatever this arrangement was, she’d come to peace with it. Her mind settled into a rhythm, and her power throbbed under her skin. The hair on my arms rose. My blood heated and rushed to my cock. Her magic was intoxicating, and it took all my self-control not to slip into her thoughts. I wanted to understand this woman so badly it hurt.
This pull, her magic singing through me, felt right. I wanted more, to feel her skin, to have her between my legs. I’d never had sex with a woman, never wanted to until this moment. Before I could entertain the thought further, I froze.
Ezra. My solid, unyielding partner, who’d given me a reason to keep breathing when I’d been nothing more than a teen, scared of the world. It didn’t matter how much I wanted Quinn; Ezra had to come first. He was my rock. My impulsive need, this new wash of lust, had already driven a wedge between us, one I hadn’t known was possible.
If Ezra said no, she’d be a fantasy, mine to imagine, never to hold. My heart cracked. But that would have to be enough. My rational mind regained control over my dick.
For the next hour, I felt her frustration and anxiety build inside my chest. I’d never tethered a woman, never wanted to, but after feeling these details, a deep knowledge of why men did it embedded itself.
When given freely, this bond was magical. When not, it would be violating. Quinn now had five tethers, three of them unknowns. Thefourth, one of Ezra’s five who claimed the bond formed against his wishes, was keeping her at arm’s length. Ezra trusted him and wanted to understand before we took action. For now, I would follow my lover’s lead. And finally, the fifth, mine. I clenched my fists. It wasn’t right, and I’d added to it.
Unease made me almost stand and bolt. But I forced myself to stay. I couldn’t run from the consequences of my actions. They would always come back to haunt me, so I might as well face them head-on.
Finally, she moved, but not toward the kitchen, back to the bar. Her red hair, now frizzy, bounced back into my line of sight.
“Shit,” Matt’s curse cut through the chatter of the packed Rooster. He glanced at my table before turning and shoving something under the bar toward Quinn and attempted to herd her toward the back.
Quinn scowled and brought her TB up to her face just before Matt’s broad shoulders blocked my view of the exchange. Quinn had only sent one message on her TB since she got it. I assumed it was because of her lack of magic. But clearly, it was more than that. I handmade a TB for each member of my family. It wasn’t just a way to send messages. It was their connection to each other and to me. Most importantly, it was their right always to have it at their side if they chose.
Clearly, Quinn wanted her TB.
I stood and slid to the bar. The blood drained out of Matt’s face, and he dashed into the back room. I’d deal with him later.
“Hey, Quinn, is it?” I asked, composing myself.
Quinn looked over at me. “And you are?”
My heart raced. No one spoke to me so casually. I was a mentalist. My magic could rip into her mind, read her thoughts, and change them to whatever I wanted in the blink of an eye.
I held out my hand. “My friends call me Xan.”
“And I’m your friend?” Quinn asked.
