Even then, he was breathtaking.
Some quiet, foolish part of her wanted to rest her bones against his powerful body, feel the weight of his arms around her. She wanted to stroke his cheek one last time.
“Cyrus,” she said softly. “Give me back my book, and I give you my word I won’t hurt you.”
It seemed like an eternity before he said, thickly, “I can’t.”
The nosta flashed hot against her skin.
“Very well.” She lowered her eyes. “I just want you to know, in advance, how sorry I am. You’ve already been through so much tonight. I really don’t want to do this.”
“Alizeh—”
She moved in a flash, striking his sword arm before throwing a kick to his side in a rapid combination that briefly unbalanced him, even as his blade nicked her throat, drawing a thin line of blood. This she paid no mind, for she’d forced him to drop his arms a nanosecond, which was all she needed to knock the sword from his hand, after which she landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him stumbling across the room just long enough for her to lunge for the copper blade she’d earlier seen planted in the floor. She lifted thissword as she spun around and found Cyrus standing there, his own recovered weapon clenched in his right fist. With his free hand he rubbed absently at the angry red mark she’d left on his heaving chest, looking at her with a fiery expression she couldn’t decipher.
“Youkickedme,” he said angrily.
“You cut me,” she countered.
Something awoke in his eyes at that, a moment of misery there and gone, before he carefully lifted his blade, meeting her challenge. Quietly, he said, “Do you intend to fight me?”
“Are you going to prevent me from retrieving what is rightfully mine?” she asked, lifting her chin. “If so, yes.”
“How did you even know it was here?” he asked, advancing slowly. “How did you know to come searching for it?”
“I had no idea it was here,” she said indignantly. “I already told you, I broke down your door by accident—”
He laughed, darkly. “And you snapped open the lock on my cabinet by accident, too?”
“I didn’t even touch it. It opened on its own.”
“What?” He stopped moving. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe you should first explain to me why you even have alockedcabinet inside of alockedchamber,” she said angrily, “in your ownlockedwing of the castle!”
“You ask this even after you’ve destroyed my door?” he said, losing control of his temper. “It’s obvious to me now that I should invest in even greater levels of protection, for there are demented Jinn running around breaking into my quarters and rifling through my things!”
She gasped. “I am not a demented Jinn, howdareyou—”
“I am going to ask you one more time,” he said, marshaling his patience, “to tell me how you knew it was here, Alizeh—”
“Or what?” she said. “Or you’re going to kill me? I thought you weren’t allowed to kill me.”
For some reason he flinched at that, awareness awakening in his eyes. His looked away and Alizeh wondered whether he was thinking of the devil, perhaps remembering his earlier encounter—except that his reaction was incongruent to the experience. Cyrus seemed weighed down, suddenly, subdued by what looked suspiciously like grief.
“What did you mean,” he said, still staring at the floor, “that the cabinet door opened on its own?”
“I meant exactly what I said.”
“But that’s not possible.” He shook his head at the ground. “The cabinet is heavily enchanted—you would’ve had to break the many tiers of security—”
“That book,” she said, incensed, “is mine. Mine by birth, by order of the earth. It knows me. I felt its presence when I approached the cabinet, and it unlocked itself to reach me—I did nothing but—”
“Unlocked itself?” He looked up sharply. “You mean it displayed some kind of power on its own?”
Alizeh laughed then, finally understanding. “Poor, tormented Cyrus,” she said, her voice softening. “All this time, you’ve been trying to make it animate, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
