I enjoy pushing his limits, after all.
Maybe I’ll write it on a cake. Or on the bathroom mirror, serial killer style. Or I could tell him the next time his dick is halfway down my throat, to see what happens.
It’s a distracting train of thought to carry me along while Roscoe sleeps off his buttload of drugs and while I’m still waiting for Luna to come down.
It’s certainly a better daydream than the alternative, anyway. Which is thinking about how things went in the Nexus District earlier today. Or how my magic seems to be failing on me.
Sure, maybe I’m still exhausted after yesterday, or that the mental barrier from keeping Ember out is draining me more than I thought.
As I lie beside him, I draw on my blood magic to focus on Ro’s heartbeat, digging deep to—
My heart flutters, and a wave of panic goes through me.
There’s nothing. My magic gives a little jerk and then settles back down again.
Next, I try to summon a tiny fireball in the palm of my hand.
This time, my power doesn’t even react. It’s like it’s sleeping, lying dormant inside me, and when I catch it by surprise, it reacts, but only infinitesimally.
I focus on summoning Poncho, waiting for the massive creature to appear.
Again, nothing happens.
What the hell is going on with me? My insides knot. This is really not the time for my magic to go all glitchy. Not now the Archarcans are aware of my existence, and I highly doubt the Bad Vamps are done with their campaign to take over the city.
A shitty time to find yourself powerless, or for my magic to be unreliable.
When Luna appears a few minutes later, she catches me in the act of staring at the window that’s just visible from Roscoe’s bed, trying to make it rain. Something that was so damn easy just the other day now seems like an impossibility.
When I focus in on the area just below my ribs where my magic usually resides, I don’t feel any warmth or jolts of power when I poke it.
I don’t feel anything at all.
And that scares the absolute shit out of me.
My magic might have caused me plenty of problems in my life. It got me shunned and left me homeless, after all. But I’ve never wanted to be without it. It’s still a part of me,
“Everything good here?” Luna asks with a raised eyebrow. She knows the answer already since she seems to have a sixth sense for when any of us are hurting. Plus, she can probably read the concern that’s all over my face.
“I think my magic is glitching,” I tell her.
Best to stick to the biggest problem that’s closest at hand. I skim over the fact that last night was easily one of the worst ofmy life, or the terror I felt earlier when Fabian and I got attacked by an angry mob.
She hums softly and pads closer on bare feet. Her hair is slightly damp and I wonder where she’s been, whether she’s started a new garden on the rooftop already.
“Let’s see, shall we?” Her voice is a calm ocean, soothing. Luna’s the best nurse in the world, the best person to have around you when you’re hurting or afraid.
I take a deep breath and let her presence relax me.
“Can you check on Ro first? He downed a ton of your potion. Got all giddy and told me he loved me, then he passed out about thirty seconds later.”
She grins and daintily takes a seat beside the bed, crossing her legs beneath her long, flowing skirt. “Are you surprised? He doesn’t strike me as someone that does things in moderation.”
I chuckle, eyeing my dark prince as he breathes deeply. His dark lashes are enviably long and another surge of love goes through me, intense enough to make my breath catch. Roscoe shifts slightly in his sleep, tossing one tattooed arm over his face, like he was unconsciously aware of my gaze on him.
“He’s a head-first, all in, kind of guy. Also, an ‘ooh, I wanna see what happens when...’ kinda guy.”
“Who loves you,” she adds with a beaming smile.
