“Lou needs me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that?”
“Yes. It’s your choice. Whether you think you don’t have other options or not.”
Cal turns his attention back to his food, thoughts still clearly tumbling around in his head. I do the same, mixing some of the creamy dressing through my salad and nibbling on a piece of the grilled chicken.
I desperately want to pepper Cal with questions, to know all about him. Presh will be devastated when she learns I could have come back with another of her brothers in tow, so I need to bring her something.
“Will they fear me?” he asks about halfway through his burger. “Want to steal my power too? When my eyes go purple?”
“They might.”
“Then what?”
“Then … I’ll come for you.”
He narrows his eyes distrustfully. “How will you know?”
“I’ll know.”
“How really?”
“You’re mine. If you need me, truly need me, I’ll know.”
“You could just give me your phone number,” he grumbles, not believing me for a moment.
“Do you have a phone?”
He shrugs. “I’ll get one.”
“I have an easier, more reliable way,” I say.
“You can’t remember your own phone number?”
“It’s not …” I shake my head, then gesture around us. “Sometimes I don’t have my phone on me.”
“Then how?”
“What’s my name?”
“Zaya …”
“Zaya what?” I know he heard Jewels and Lou discussing me, so he knows my full name.
“Zaya … Gage.”
I reach for the whisper-thin bond between us, the connection already strengthening with our short conversation. Though the sharing of the meal is likely more important to that strengthening than the actual words we’ve exchanged. “Yes. Say it again.”
He huffs. “Zaya Gage.”
I trace the bond between us, sending another whisper of power through the connection. He shudders, eyes widening.
“Imagine picking up the phone and saying my name.”
“This is stupid,” he grumbles under his breath. But he pretends to pick up a phone and press it to his ear. “Zaya Gage?”
