His brow furrowed. “Thought you said you studied?”
“I did. Meteorology and Climate Science at UC Davis, then my master’s back in England. I worked in field research for a while—weather studies, storm modeling, that sort of thing.” She waved her fork. “Then Dad fell ill, and I needed something closer to home. So I ended up in London.”
She pulled a face, forking more food into her mouth. “Ghostwriting climate policy briefs for Paul—Mr. Future MP—so he could win votes. Until that imploded, and my powers made an appearance.”
Leaving out the part about Paul being a pain in her backside, trying to win her back, she continued, “I resigned, moved in with my parents, and helped out at the local animal rescue shelter. Then I left for the Himalayas.”
A flicker of red flashed across their bond. “I could just torch him.”
She blinked, then said softly, “Race, he’s ancient history, honestly. If I hadn’t ditched politics, I’d never have met the gorgeous bloke determined to play my knight—and you are my knight, just with sharper fangs.”
Warmth rolled through their soul bond, and he grunted, “Good save,mate.”
Grinning, she took another bite and chewed. He set his empty plate on the cart. She swallowed as her fingers worried the fork. “Race…there was something Attor told me.”
Instantly, the playful glint vanished from his eyes. “What?”
“Malcarion isn’t just caging the children with powers for his mines.” Her voice dropped. “He’s ordered every female who goes into heat to conceive, or be dragged to his soldiers. That’s whythe blue wards flare so often. They’re tracking fertile women, too.”
For a moment, silence stretched, and a muscle jumped in his jaw, fury sparking in his eyes.
“Not for long, heart-fire,” he said softly, with deadly calm. “Not for long.”
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Ash woke alone,buried under the covers. She reached for Race, but his side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold.
A little disappointed, she turned to the glass wall. Wintry sunlight poured through the panels, stabbing her eyes. Groaning, she dragged the covers over her head.
She should get up, find him, and meet the other psionics?—
A door opened, then a soft thud followed.
Ash peered out from under the covers. Race stood near the fireplace, dressed head-to-toe in brooding black, her luggage at his feet, firelight gilding his unfairly perfect profile. Of course, he’d look that good first thing in the morning.
As if sensing her stare, he turned. “You’re up. Good.”
Ash lifted to her elbows. “You went to the Himalayas?”
“Yeah. Got that out of the way. After last night, your body needed rest?—”
She arched a brow. “Hmm. I wonder why that was?”
Amusement flickered in his eyes as he strolled closer. “Might as well get used to it, my mate.”
She huffed, though her body tightened at the memory. “In that case, I’d like to wake up with my man still in bed next to me.”
“You needed your things.” He stopped near her, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You getting up?”
She gave him a slow once-over. Big, gorgeous, his hair tied back in a short ponytail, and his direct crimson stare—heck, he could be a little intimidating if one didn’t know him. “You didn’t scare Ama Deni, did you?”
“Who?”
“The proprietor’s mother. Khetra House?”
He shook his head, then planted his hands on his hips. “It’s almost midday, Ash. I’d like to get some training done with you. Now get that delectable ass moving.”
