“How does the property charm work?”
He pulled his necklace out from under his shirt. “This heats up whenever a spell is cast in town. Well—whenever a spell is cast by anyone other than you or me.”
“Oh! How does it know to differentiate?”
“Hair. I’ve got a strand of mine and yours in here. We’ll both want to have Miss Knight’s and Miss Dane’s as well, so we’re not jumping a foot each time they cast something.”
Shemmm’ed in an abstracted way, and he realized for the first time how very odd it must look that he had her hair in a locket. With his.
The toaster dinged, a welcome distraction. She prepared two plates—he supposed she never got dinner, either, just coordinated it for everyone else at the conference. That reminded him of what she’d said in the quiet moment before the storm, as they stood in the twilight talking about responsibilities they’d never sought. She, presumably, was not to blame for hers.
“How long have you wanted out?” he asked.
She took a sip of water. “Out?”
“From the League. Or from helping to run it, anyway.”
Her snort was rueful. “A while. I hatepolitics. And I’m left with no time to myself.”
“Does your sister know?”
“Of course not. This is everything to her. And it is important work, so I feel”—she considered her fork—“selfish for wishing I was doing something else.” She glanced at him. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
He swallowed, throat tight. Even after everything he’d done, the forced Vow, the broken trust, she felt some affinity with him—a bitter hint of what she might have felt, had he been braver. Better.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he said, eyes on his food.
They ate in silence. He was chewing the final bite when she asked, “What did you mean when you said you also wanted to stop doing something but kept going because you had no choice?”
“Just that.”
“You’re not going to explain.”
“No.”
She bit her lip. “Please tell me what you’re doing in Ellicott Mills.”
“Miss Harper?—”
“I have to know what I’m aiding. Crimes? Treason?”
He supposed the government would see it that way. He hesitated, and she took that as an answer.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
“No—I promise you, I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t approve of.”
“Then tell me!” she said, her whisper harsh with urgency. “What are you trying to destroy?What?”
“Nothing! On my honor, which I swear Idohave, I don’t want to destroyanything.”
She put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh—oh, I’ve been seeing it the entirely wrong way.”
Good Lord, he’d made it worse.
“You’re not trying to blow something up.” She looked at him, and he couldn’t do anything but look back, heart thudding. “You’re trying to keep something from beingblown up.”
The desire to tell all was so consuming that he had to put space between them. He jumped to his feet and barreled out of the kitchen.
