Reaching for a puff to cover up her nervous energy, she asked, “Like what? That’s too broad.”
“Well, I told you about how I claimed this territory. Tell me how you did as well.”
The cheese puff only had one good crunch in it before it dissolved on her tongue. Swallowing, Clementine offered him a small shrug. “My story isn’t that interesting. I used to live with my sister, but she wanted to live on her own, so I started looking for a job that worked with my…” She flicked a finger toward her forehead. “You know. Telepathy stuff. I worked with the Orclind’s land management service, so I got word when the EVP put out a call for a kind of crazy job.”
Speaking around a mouthful of cheese puffs, Emory asked, “What kind of job?”
“Thisone.” She waved a hand around at the living room and the island in general. “I’m the Farallon Ambassador, which is basically a steward of the islands and a… mediator, I guess? A while back the sovereign really started pushing hard for inter-territory cooperation, so they’ve been trying to make in-roads with the merfolk for a while. They thought getting someone back on the Farallones might be a good way to do that. At least to start.”
Emory was quiet for a moment, then, slowly, he replied, “So your job is to…”
“Live here, watch over the islands, and try to make friends with my neighbors,” she finished, speaking with a perkiness that usually worked to cover up how inadequate she was to complete the task.
Emory’s tone hardened. “And what would happen if you failed? If the pod decided you were a threat, or there was a frenzy and something happened to you?”
“If I can’t show that I’ve made any progress in a year, we’re supposed to reevaluate — which is code for possibly calling the whole thing off.”
If that happened, she would lose her home and the island she was quickly coming to love. She’d be right back to square one: trying to figure out what she was supposed to do with her life in a world not built for her. Given the time frame, Clementine hadn’t yet begun to truly worry about it, but itwasa very real threat to her peace of mind — one she’d gone out of her way to not think about.
After all, no one really thought she could do it. Including herself.
And yet here I am, snuggled up under the arm of the hottest merman ever born.If that wasn’t being friendly, then she really had no idea what was.
On the heels of that fleeting thought came another, more thunderous realization. Clementine’s breath hitched.If I’m mated to Emory, I’ll never have to leave. This paradise could be mine forever, no questions asked. No take-backs. No returns or exchanges.
As far as the sovereign’s dictate was concerned, her mission would be accomplished. After all, hadn’thebegun to shift the EVP’s relationships with other territories by marrying a witch? As centuries of political unions could attest, there was no better way of making friends with your neighbors than bymarryingthem.
A knuckle nudged the underside of her chin, urging her to look up. A soft exhalation escaped her lips as she found Emory looking down at her, his lashes lowered to half-mast. In his deep, lyrical voice, he murmured, “It’s a good thing you claimed me, then, isn’t it?”
Yes,she thought, heart racing,I’m starting to think you’re right.
ChapterThirteen
It wasa strange thing to sit and talk with someone without pain.
For as long as she could recall, interacting with others had caused her discomfort. If it wasn’t the constant, bitter flow of another being’s consciousness streaming through her mind, it was the eye-watering strain of keeping themout.
Some of her earliest memories were of spending days in bed, her head throbbing with a pain that robbed her of all energy, alllife.She remembered weeping quietly into her pillows when she heard her parents and Nelly whispering outside her door, wondering what they could do to help after yet another psychic meltdown. She remembered the ghastly things she’d been forced to hear in other minds — intrusive thoughts that were utterly foreign to a child. She remembered the first time she successfully erected a barrier, the sheer relief of it, only to experience the horrific psychic whiplash of having it crumble to dust after just a few minutes.
Until adolescence, her life had been one of constant discomfort, exhaustion, horrors she refused to share with another soul, guilt for the accommodations her abilities required, and the weight of concealing all of those feelings from her family. It wasn’t until she was a teenager that she’d gotten a good handle on her psychic barriers, which allowed her some measure of relief and freedom.
But until the day she stepped on Demon’s Tooth, Clementine had never experienced completecomfort:a total absence of strain, discomfort, the throbbing pain that accompanied never-ending psychic effort.
It wasn’t until Emory that she felt untarnished joy in the presence of another.
They talked for hours there on her living room floor. What was once dinner became, to her almost uncontainable delight, asleepover.
Emory didn’t care that she wanted a pause on anything sexual. He didn’t press or bring upmountingagain. His intense, predatory energy had mellowed into one of lazy satisfaction as he helped her scoot the coffee table out of the way and set up makeshift beds on the floor in front of the couch.
The snacks and liver eventually disappeared as the night wore on. They were replaced by hot tea, fresh cookies from her supply run, and random odds and ends from her cabinets Emory had never tried before. She delighted in his uncensored reactions to everything from his first taste of hot sauce to the crunch of a pickle.
Emory’s boundless curiosity didn’t stop at food. He asked her a thousand questions about her life — everything from how her home was made to where she grew up and what magical skills she had.
There was no pressure, no awkwardness. There was only the bubbly sort of laughter that came from jokes told late at night, the dreamlike glow of lamplight, and a gradual descent into softly spoken vulnerability.
Clementine had always been circumspect with her personal life more out of habit than inclination. It wasn’t like she’d ever been around someone other than her sister long enough to even consider divulging the details of her life, after all.
With Emory, she felt no habitual reticence. She didn’t hesitate to explain to her guest that she was a powerful telepath, nor that her parents had gone out of their way to hide her and Nelly’s abilities from the various governments of the UTA to protect their privacy.
