Page 31

I freeze under the scrutiny. On one hand, I was right about it being an animal; on the other, said animal looks big and is watching me unblinkingly.

“I think it’s time we go back inside, Jimmity,” I whisper.

A voice answers me from behind. “You should never have come outside.”

Relief at the familiar tone hits me at the same time as the eyes blink and Bob steps forward out of the shadows. I whirl on Lynx, who’s pulled himself up on the outside of the porch, strong hands wrapped around the railing to keep his balance.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Surveying.” He leans forward. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I heard someone creeping around outside.”

“And you thought you’d … what?” His eyes glow with the same menace as Bob’s as he glances down at Jimmity. “Hit me with a goose?”

I huff, squeezing him tighter. “What are you surveying?”

Lynx’s hand pounds against the wooden rail. “Why don’t you have a weapon?” He’s frowning at me from under his hood, and genuine frustration has slipped into his voice.

“Do you want me to have a weapon?”

“I want you to protect yourself.”

“I proved today that I can.”

His jaw tightens, hollows in his cheeks becoming more pronounced. “Your mind magic won’t work on everyone.”

Mind magic? A laugh slips out of me. “Is that what you think it was?”

“I know a trick when I see one.”

I study his face, trying to find any signs that he’s fucking with me. There’s something about Lynx that makes it hard to meet his eyes, but I force myself to, and like every other time I’ve done it, the depth behind them intimidates the shit out of me. But he’s serious. He thinks I tricked him.

Yes, I probably went a little strong today, but none of my tricks work unless the man is attracted to me first, and knowing that Lynx was able to fall under my spell had me high all day.

“It wasn’t mind magic,” I say, dropping my voice as I shift Jimmity to the side. All I’m wearing is a pair of tiny briefs, and I make sure that every inch of my body is in view before I add, “It was attraction.”

“Useless emotion.”

“Then why did you have it?”

His nostrils flare, but his eyes are still locked on my face. “It wasn’t attraction. It was …” His inhale is sharp and loud. “A weak moment.”

“And you really hate being weak, don’t you?”

“I will never, ever be weak again.” The words come through his gritted teeth and give me pause.

“When were you weak before?”

The depth behind his eyes closes off, and the emptiness that fills them is so sudden, my fight-or-flight impulse hits me.

I ignore it and step forward instead.

“Lynx?”

The wood of the railing creaks beneath his grip, but he still doesn’t answer me. I can tell that he’s working to keep control, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I love seeing him like this. My pulse is working faster, adrenaline from the possible danger giving me a high that I’m supposed to be fighting.

“Being weak isn’t always a bad thing,” I tell him.