I caught his hand before he could pull away, tugging him down to sit beside me on the sun-warmed wood.
“You are a little siren,mikró astéri,” he said, though his complaint was fond, his fingers intertwining with mine. “Luring me with a hope I had long since abandoned. Singing a song my heart never thought to harmonize with.”
“I promise I will find a way to free you.” The words felt both like a vow and a fantasy as I looked at our joined hands. “You don’t have to stay with me,” I added, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Once you’re free, I mean. I could ask my boss… he’s powerful. Maybe he could send you home to your people.”
“Luca.” Skye’s voice was soft but firm. He pulled me into the shelter of his arms, and I went willingly, resting my head against his shoulder. “I require nothing of you. It is not your duty to break my chains or even to keep me company.” He paused, and I felt his breath stir my hair. “Though it would be a lie to say your presence is not a balm to my soul.” A shadow crossed his beautiful features. “I wish for you to be safe. The storm will return. It always does.”
“Then will you stay with me until it does?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He brought my knuckles to his lips, his kiss soft. “I will not leave your side until the waves take me.”
A knot of tension loosened in my chest. “Thank you.”
He held my gaze, his thumb stroking gentle circles on my hand. “And while we wait… will you tell me of your world? I have been alone with the silence of this cove for centuries. I wish to hear the story of your mortal life.”
“Let me tell you about my boss and his two kitsune enforcers,” I said, eagerly latching onto the chaos of my present to sidestep the quiet trauma of my past.
9
The soundof my alarm was a physical assault. I jolted awake, the taste of salt and Skye still lingering on my lips, only to be met with the sterile chill of my apartment and the relentless blare of digital noise. The transition was never less than jarring. One moment I was wrapped in warmth and the scent of ocean; the next, I was alone in my cold bed, aching with a hollowed-out exhaustion that went deeper than bone.
A pattern emerged from my nightly adventures. Somehow, I found my way back to him each night, only to be brutally returned by the light of dawn in my world, and the rise of the storm in his. I was living two lives, and the mortal one was starting to fray as the weeks passed.
At work, Sylas left a mug of violently black coffee on my desk. “Not sleeping well, kitten?”
“Something like that,” I grumbled, gulping the coffee like it was the elixir of life. “Can I borrow an amulet?” I asked Xavier, who was back to tapping away at his computer, which I found strange sinceIanswered his email.
“Sure,” Xavier said without even looking at me. “Take whatever you need. Just put it back when you’re done.”
That easy, eh? I got up and made my way down to storage, taking the underwater amulet and the curse breaker sword. Could that cut through a magical chain?
By the time I fell asleep each night, my mind was buzzing with strategies, my body thrumming with a new, determined energy. I was no longer a passive victim of the curse. I was a planner. An explorer. Only, neither the amulet nor the sword arrived in the other world with me.
Frustrating, but I refused to be dissuaded from my purpose to free Skye. Another night in his arms, fighting sleep, to waking and returning to the office. I added the items back to storage with a sigh of profound annoyance. I trudged back upstairs, the lack of rest making the fluorescent lights hum like angry insects.
Sylas waited beside my desk, the amulet guide having returned to the desktop, a new box of sparkly necklaces beside it. He didn’t look up as I slumped into my chair.
“No luck with the shiny toys, kitty?” he asked.
“They didn’t… transfer,” I admitted.
“Hmm. Shame.” Sylas flipped open the amulet logbook with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Maybe the design is wrong. The greatest forgers fail a thousand times before their first success.”
“They all begin with the obvious,” Xavier added, his eyes never leaving his screen. “True mastery is awakened by seeing what could be, not merely what is.” He finally paused his typing and speared me with a look. “Document the new acquisitions. Then return them to storage.”
“More junk before the solstice rush,” Keanan grumbled.
“No more fae ‘gifts,’ please,” I said, the memory of the painting a fresh ache. “Why don’t we just take pictures? It’d be faster.”
“A lens captures only reality,” Xavier stated, as if explaining something simple to a child. “It is blind to potential.”
“Then maybe you should hire an artist,” I muttered, the words out before I could stop them.
Xavier’s typing ceased. He slowly turned his head, eyes locking onto mine. “I did.”
The two words hung in the air. He held my gaze for a long, weighty moment, then returned to his work.
“But I’m not.” Not anymore.
