“Come onto Soren? Soren came onto me!” I cross my arms and turn towards the door, a bit too embarrassed to meet his eye.
“Eh.” He leans forward again as though he might reach for me, but then he shrugs his shoulders to cover the motion. “I think it was mutual. I can feel things, remember.”
“How could I forget?”
There’s a long pause that feels uncomfortably tense. I’m terribly aware of how he must be sensing every emotion I’m having, how he’s been sensing them all night. “When did you realize I knew?” I ask, to break the silence more than anything.
“When I told you I’d be able to hear them behind the door. I felt your doubt. I knew you’d guessed how I could tell if anyone was there.”
“Why didn’t you say something then? How could you let me go into that warehouse when your guards were ready and waiting just down the street?”
“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” he says so quietly and seriously that it takes my breath away. “I didn’t takeany pleasure in doing what I had to do tonight. I didn’t think it would get out of control so quickly. I thought we could knock them out one by one…But I couldn’t let something happen to you, and my guards couldn’t know where I was. Not until I could be sure—”
He stops himself. He looks at me appraisingly, and I can tell he’s trying to read something in my feelings. Trying to judge what he can or should say to me.
The answer, of course, is nothing. He shouldn’t trust me, and I’m sure he knows it. But he doesn’t seem to be able to stop himself. It’s as Adria said it would be: he can’t resist me.
There’s something about that I like, in spite of everything. In spite of what I know about him and what we’re planning. In spite of his actions tonight and his deception when it came to posing as Soren.
What can I say? It’s nice to be liked.
He stands, making his decision. Then he crosses to the entrance and opens the door.
“Down the hall,” he says to the guards stationed outside, and I hear the rustle of their movement as he shuts the door again.
He’s sent them away. Not far, but far enough that they can’t overhear.
“Sure of what?” I ask.
“I’ll get to that in a second,” he says, tilting his head towards the guards moving in the hallway. “One of the reasons was that I knew the secret would strengthen your power, and it looks like that worked. Unless you’ve been keeping the true power of your shadows a secret as well.”
“That was new,” I admit.
“A rare gift,” says Ronan, “even among the shadow-born. Light has energy. It can be as harmless as an illusion—” He turns his hand, and a fig appears in his palm.
My mouth falls open in shock. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like he plucked it straight out of the air.
He takes a bite of it, but his mouth goes straight through it, and it vanishes.
“Or as deadly as the bolts I used against some of their guards. But shadows have no energy on their own. They’re a lack of it, a lack of light. I’ve encountered a number of shadow-born, both on and off the battlefield, but I don’t remember ever seeing one capable of shaping the shadows into something with form. I’ve heard of it, but I thought it was a myth.”
“I don’t know how I did it. Or if I’ll ever be able to do it again.” It would be a very valuable skill to have, but I don’t see why I, of all people, would have it.
“I’m certain that you will. I did want to try one thing, if you wouldn’t mind darkening the room.”
I do as he asks. Then he sends a small ball of light into the air.
It’s bright, surprisingly so. It doesn’t illuminate my shadow, not all of it, but the shadow doesn’t nullify it either. If anything, it looks a bitbrighterin the shadow when I lift and lower it to test it. “That’s what I thought. I saw it happen out there. Strange.”
“I didn’t think it would work like that,” I say. “Adria’s flames are weaker in my shadows.” And my shadows can snuff some flames entirely, depending on who’s stronger.
“It doesn’t usually work like that. In fact, I’veneverseen light and shadow work like that. It’s worth asking someone about. Maybe the Guild Mistress. She knows more about the nature of magic than anyone.”
I lift the shadows as he extinguishes the light, standing and crossing the room, then taking the seat next to me on the bench.
I can feel the air change with his closeness. I almost kissed him. I let him touch me, let him hold me; gods, Ipressedmyself against him,again…
“You told me to tell you what the fuck is going on.”
