Page 237

Every day, she came bearing books, lesson plans, combat manuals, as well as the occasional restock of alchemical compounds.

Today’s delivery was shadow essence. She’d gone out of her way to get it and made damn sure he knew it.

There was also a note.

To the less competent version of me,

Here’s your refill. Try not to burn through it like an amateur this time. This shit isn’t cheap.

It was strange, seeing his own handwriting on a note he didn’t remember writing. Of all the many modifications his other-self had made, they boiled down to three categories: he’d pumped Skye’s blood full of foreign substances, optimized his organs to handle them, and embedded a fragment of an aether core into his spine. Bloodcrafting consumed immense amounts of magic, so practicing it required having a secondary power source on hand.

Ivain referred to it as an entry-level build. Skye couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or significantly worse. Especially now, as his eyes blurred for the third time in an hour.

The plunger depressed with a soft click. The shimmering, violet liquid disappeared beneath his skin. He exhaled, bracing for the burn. It started deep in his arm, spreading outward like wildfire, his blood singing as the essence threaded through his veins.

According to Ivain, everything began with shadow essence. It was the foundation of any respectable bloodcrafting practice—and the least likely to kill him if he screwed it up.

Precision was everything. The shadow essence had to fuse with his blood at the molecular level. If he missed the mark by even a micron, the whole dose went up in smoke.

Focus. Just focus.

But his instincts were distinctly preoccupied with the woman wandering around the room, doing her best not to look at the needle—leaving him ample time to study her.

It was a special kind of torture. She wasn’t Taly. She didn’t snap at him. Didn’t roll her eyes or bite back when he poked. And yet the curve of her mouth still made him crazy. Her smirk still hit like a sucker punch.

He could admit it. He missed her—hisTaly. They’d fought before. He’d weathered her silence, her temper, her sharp tongue. But she had… new weapons now, with which to fight.

The bond remained firmlyclosed,locked behind whatever new walls she’d built.

As were all the other parts of her.

And that would’ve been fine—he’d gone over a year without sex. He knew how to do without. Only problem was, she never let him forget what he was missing.

Every evening, it was the same calculated assault: a slow, unbothered walk from the washroom to the bedroom, naked and dripping. She never said a word, never spared him a glance.

“You’re staring again,” Cori said, back turned as she studied a wall of tools.

“You’re distracting.” He winced as the essence burned through him. “Seriously, what the hell are you wearing?” And why did it have to be so form-fitting, specifically from the back?

To his shameless delight, time hadn’t done a thing to diminish the glory of the holy land.

“Oh, this?” Grinning, she gave a twirl. “This is what the humans call a ‘power suit.’”

It was a suit of a kind, he supposed. Black with clean, straight lines, no buttons or trim except for wide strips of satin along the coat’s lapels and running down the seams of slim-cut trousers. Her hair was pin straight, like it had been ironed, and gathered at the neck.

And her shoes… Whatever magic those shoes held, it was entirely focused on making him unable to imagine anything except those legs hooked around his waist. The heels had to be at least five inches tall, and the outer shell was made from black leather polished to a mirror-like shine. The soles were a vibrant red, and the toes narrowed down to a sharp point.

“The humans,” Cori explained, “are more comfortable when we dress like them. And when they’re comfortable, they’re less likely to start wars they can’t win. It works out better for everybody.”

So, they made it to the mortal realm eventually. Interesting. “And that thing you keep checking? Is that also human?”

She reached inside that strange suit jacket, pulling out an equally peculiar device. It was black, thin, and made of metal.

“They call it a cellular phone.” The surface lit up, flashing an image of a dopey-looking Calcifer along with the time. “It’s like a personal comm, but bigger. And with a glamera, for some reason. It’s hard now to get around on Earth without one.”

With the first batch of essence stowed away, he reached for the second syringe. “I take it that means you came here from the human homeworld?”

“More like on my way to it. Which is why we need tohurry this up.” She snapped her fingers, punctuating each word. “I didn’t sign up to be the middleman between you and your future ego. I have other things to do today.”