"Three days," Tristan agreed before heading back toward the safe house, every instinct screaming at him to move faster.
The sky had darkened considerably. Wind picked up, carrying the scent of incoming snow. He'd been right, the break was temporary.
He reached the safe house just as the first flakes started falling. Inside, Maren stood at the hearth making tea, her black curls loose over one shoulder.
"How bad?" she asked without turning.
"Emmett's giving me three days to find proof you're not responsible." Tristan shed his coat. "And another storm's coming. Bigger than last night."
"So you're staying again."
"Give me a chance to do my job. Maybe the magic will try something like last night,"
She handed him a mug, her silver eyes searching his face for the real answer. "They're running out of patience."
"So am I."
"With me or the situation?"
"The situation." He took the tea, avoiding eye contact at his admittance.
Something flickered in her expression and Tristan forced himself to keep talking to avoid the rush of thoughts he tried to ignore as they surged forward.
"Evidence supports innocence," he said instead. "And I follow evidence."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Outside, wind howled. Snow began falling in earnest, thick and fast. Tristan moved to check the wards, testing their strength with his hand.
They hummed against his palm, strained but holding.
"How long this time?" Maren asked.
"Could be all night. Maybe into tomorrow." He turned to face her. "Hope you don't mind company."
"I'm getting used to it." She moved to a window, watching snow accumulate. "Strange how fast that happened."
"What?"
"Getting used to having someone around. I've been alone for so long I forgot what it felt like."
Tristan knew that feeling intimately. Had lived it for three years, ever since?—
Heat flared beneath his ribs, sharp and protective and wrong. He shoved it down hard.
"You okay?" Maren's voice pulled him back.
"Fine."
"Liar."
The corner of his mouth lifted despite everything. "You're picking up my tells."
"Maybe I'm just paying attention." She crossed to where he stood. "Same as you've been doing with me."
Too close. She was standing too close and something primal in him approved while his mind screamed warnings about history repeating itself.
