My aura went from wisps to solid black that filled the small space around us.
“I mean—” he stuttered, unsure of himself.
“Thank you,” Quen said, stepping back towards me.
My arm snaked around her waist, drawing her into my side. The feel of her body acted like a balm that soothed the jealousy.
James blew out a breath. “What are you? Do you have a gift?”
“Yes.”
“Can I know what it is?”
She looked at me and I saw the way her mind worked behind her eyes. Quentin had latched on to an idea.
“I trust him,” she said to me.
“I don’t,” I replied.
“I’m making this call.” Her focus went back to James. “My gift is success.”
He let out a low whistle. “No shit. High achiever in everything you do. Including your private life.” James tipped his chin in my direction.
Quentin rolled her eyes, which were slowly fading back to brown. “Don’t feed his ego.”
“I’m trying to avoid him killing me,” James retorted.
“He won’t.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
Her hand ran up my chest, landing above my heart. “He’s just trying to protect me, James. Gray won’t do anything as long as you keep your word and keep this to yourself.”
I dropped a kiss on top of her head. There was a sense of understanding between us. I could and would listen to Quentin and her logic as long as it didn’t involve her being put in the firing line.
“This is so fucking strange. I don’t understand what the fuck is happening here,” James muttered.
Quentin stepped away from me and I felt the irritation as I anticipated what was about to leave her mouth.
“What if we tried to understand it?”
“What?” James asked.
“We’re here late enough as it is. Why don’t we add my samples to the study?”
I grabbed her arm and forced her to look at me. “Absolutely not. Hunter hasn’t sanctioned it. If he finds out—"
“How is he going to find out? I won’t say anything and neither will you. James?”
“I’m an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” he chimed from behind her.
Quentin grinned, looking back at him. “You and me. A little side project. It won’t take much. We’re running the experiments, anyway. We would just add this in and make sure we’re the ones to run them and do the analysis.”
“It’s not robust,” he argued, earning points from me. “You have a sample size of one. It’s not like anything we do would have any statistical significance.”
“Listen to the man,” I urged her. “He’s speaking sense.”
“Consider it a proof of concept,” Quen said, rocking on her heels. “We add it to the paper. Aim for a higher impact factor journal.” She glanced back at me. “It would help us. Allow those losing faith to understand that there isn’t this cosmic chasm between them and the Gods.”
