Page 10 of Adepts and Alchemists

He didn’t look up. “He did.”

“So why are you being so nice to me?”

Then he did look up at me. “Because I like to make my own mind up about people.”

The calm, easy rhythm that he used on my skin was born of practice. I knew the position. I’d adopted it once or twice before.

“Who’d you take care of?” I asked.

The muscles in his neck bunched. It was the only outward indication that what I’d said upset him. But again, he didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t accuse me of mind-reading or illicit magic. He just dipped the washcloth back into the water, lathered it up, and started the process over again on my arms.

“My grandma,” he said finally. “Mom and Dad died in a car accident when I was really young. My grandparents took me in. I had a pretty good life with them. Moved away for a while, and tried the dating and marriage thing, but it didn’t work out. Grandpa Richie died when I was in trade school, so I looked after her in his place. I didn’t trust anyone else with the end of life care when it finally came to that. No one else loved her the way I did.”

I’d felt the same way about Estelle and Livinia. It didn’t matter that they had a coven to look after them. I was going to do it, because no one else would love them or care for them the way I did. They’d grown into beautiful and successful witches in their own right. I didn’t regret my choices where they were concerned. Not for one solitary second.

RJ paused, breath catching when I ran a hand through his hair. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it. It was almost an automatic response. Regardless, the golden strands were as soft and lustrous as they looked. His face tipped toward me, and there was a wild moment where I thought we might surge toward each other and end up in a tangle of limbs on the bed. The completely alien desire to kiss him eclipsed almost everything else.

And then the moment was gone. RJ dropped his gaze with a mumbled, “your hand is wet.”

I withdrew the offending digits reluctantly. There’d been one intoxicating second when I’d forgotten exactly how large a clusterfuck I’d landed in.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just... you’re hurt. I want to be careful with you, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

His lips twitched, threatening to pull up into a boyish grin. It was completely different from the haughty but enticing gaze of a witch’s son. It warmed me from the inside out, letting me relax under his hands. True to his word, he didn’t let them wander. Angelo wouldn’t have been able to say the same. Which reminded me...

“To your earlier statement, yes, Lydia deserves better than Angelo.” He looked up at me then. I nodded. “I don’t like the incubus.”

“Why not?”

I cocked my head to the side as I considered his question. “He’s too up his own ass. I’d tell him to pull his head out, but I think he likes the feeling.”

RJ let out a surprised belly laugh, dropping the washcloth. I watched him, perplexed and pleased by the reaction. He seemed to...liketalking to me.

“You said deserves,” he noted when he could finally wipe away the tears streaming from his eyes. They were still sparkling with humor. It made one more aware of the glacial blue color. “Present tense.”

“Right. So what?”

He nodded. “So, you and Angelo both think Lydia’s still alive. You think there’s a way to get her back.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you think that?”

He was like a kid asking five million questions. It was cute. “Because I’m powerful enough that Murrain had to send a spell of unmaking my way. He knows I’ll figure something out and that I’ll come for Lydia. He’s probably counting on it.” I paused. “That’s why I’m ninety percent certain he’s going to have Andrea regurgitate Lydia’s soul. He knows I’ll come for her. He’s using her spirit as a hostage.”

RJ’s brow creased. “A spell of unmaking. That sounds ominous. What does it do?”

“It’s a lot like pulling on a thread. Pull one stitch in the weaving and the rest become insecurely attached. The more energy you pour into the spell, the more destructive it gets. It unravels the magic it’s attacking until a catastrophic failure occurs.”

“So it’s also a little like a chemical reaction?” RJ asked.

“I guess so.”

“Like... a bomb?”