Page 11 of Magic & Mochas (Tales of Love & Lore #1)

Chapter eight

Whispers he knew that a witch or warlock who could not speak, could not cast spells or hexes.

“Fools who have never faced death and paid his price should keep their traps shut, and mind their own damn business.” The shadowmancer’s voice was lethally quiet, like feathers made of steel.

Rasmus’ eyes bulged as he clawed uselessly at his neck. But shadows have no substance, so his scrabbling hands passed easily through them.

“Thorne…?” I asked quietly when the warlock’s eyes began to roll back in his head. Surely, he wouldn’t actually kill my ex…right? I hated Rasmus, but I didn’t exactly want him dead.

Thorne flinched, glancing back at me with an unreadable expression on his face. Immediately, the shadows dispersed, and Rasmus fell to the floor in a heap, coughing violently. The hands he brought to his throat shook.

“Get out.” Thorne didn’t raise his voice, but Rasmus scrambled to his feet and bolted out the door like he had seen a ghost, his face as white as a sheet.

Without looking at me, Thorne pulled on his coat and headed for the door.

“Thorne, wait! Where are you going?” I slid off the counter.

“I’m not going after him, if that’s what you’re worried about. The ruddy bastard will keep breathing just fine until he pisses off the wrong person again.” His voice was like gravel, and he still wouldn’t look at me.

“That’s not what I meant.” I slowly walked towards Thorne when he hesitated, his hand on the doorknob.

“Then what did you mean?”

“Why are you leaving? You haven’t even finished your latte yet.” I knew it was a flimsy excuse.

But he still turned around. “You…don’t want me to go?”

“Of course not!” I said with feeling, walking over until I stood right in front of him.

“You’re not…afraid of me?” Thorne’s cold demeanor cracked, his eyes finally finding mine. “After what I just did?”

I leaned up on my toes, bracing my hands against his chest. “No.”

“You should be.” His voice was like gravel.

“Says who?” I whispered.

“Me.”

I tilted my chin up, bringing our faces inches apart. “Are you going to hurt me, Thorne?”

“Never.” He said the word like a solemn vow.

“Then I have no reason to be afraid.”

“Even if what that warlock said were true?” he breathed, fear and hope chasing each other through the depths of his eyes.

I placed a hand on his face. “I may not have known you long, Thorne, but I know you well enough to tell that’s not something you would do. I have a feeling there’s much more to the story than that. And if you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

Thorne leaned into my touch, closing his eyes. The late afternoon light gilded the side of his face, softening his expression. And when he finally opened his violet eyes, there was an openness there that left me breathless.

“I think I might just take you up on your offer.” He searched my eyes, looking for any sign that I hadn’t truly meant what I’d said. When he found none, he placed his hand over my smaller one. “Would you…like to stay for dinner?”

“Absolutely.”