Page 25

Chapter

Fifteen

I should feel relieved—excited, even. But I haven’t gotten past the shock.

Most of my half-assed applications have been for jobs at companies I know nothing about, but Paragon is a gem, a stellar and competitive agency with a growing reputation.

My application to them had been a shot in the dark, and I hadn’t expected to get an interview at all—especially not this soon.

Not to mention, one phone call to my old manager and Paragon could learn the truth of how I’d left Incite.

Why would they bother to take a chance on me?

I didn’t open the email until I got back to Liam’s.

On the drive back to Alchemist to unload Noah’s van and pick up my car, he’d been so kind.

Rather than try to untangle the complicated conversations we’d broached lying next to each other, he’d instead distracted me by playing a new band he thought I’d appreciate, sometimes peppering in easy questions about what the next steps were for the mural.

Back at Liam’s, I’d stood in front of the pantry for ten minutes trying to figure out what I wanted for dinner before caving in and ordering delivery to save myself the effort of making a decision.

Tomorrow, I’d thought, curling up in bed after picking at my burrito bowl and staring at my phone, the events of the day replaying in my mind. I’ll have an early night and figure it all out tomorrow.

But now it’s nearly midnight and I’m reading through the email for the hundredth time. I’ll do the first step of the interview, of course, there’s no harm in that, I think robotically. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got to decide right now.

Well. It’s not all I’ve got to decide.

My thoughts circle back to him, as they so often do lately. I open up my messages.

I can’t sleep

Noah responds in seconds.

how can I help? more anime? the chess app? you’ve owed me a rematch for weeks now

what’s the point of a rematch when you won?

it’s hardly a win when your opponent gives up

I fell asleep!

…I see your point

don’t think that’ll work this time tho. something else, maybe?

like what?

I exhale noisily, frustrated.

I wish we were playing tonight.

I’ve fallen in love with Liam’s game for more reasons than one, but at this moment, I just miss the way it gets me out of my head and into Jaylie’s. I drum my fingertips on the back of my phone as I watch Noah’s text bubbles appear and disappear, over and over again.

do you like to write?

it’s…okay?

hmmmm

when Liam first started the game, did you fill out the backstory document he sent around? the one with all the questions about Jaylie’s history, motivations, weaknesses, etc?

of course

I’d spent days on that questionnaire, thoroughly laying out Jaylie’s story with deliberation and care.

This might be my first D she melts completely into his touch.

“You’ll have to tell me of your other stories, Loren, but…

you’re off to a pretty good start with this one. ”

“You think so?”

“A daring tale of a stolen bride, blood magic, and a team of adventurers vanquishing an evil witch while saving a beautiful woman? Utterly compelling. You’ll have damsels throwing themselves into distress just for the chance to be your next muse.”

Loren exhales a gentle laugh. “You must be very sleepy indeed, priestess, to be complimenting me so much. Is your guard down so completely?”

Jaylie’s expression goes stormy, but she can’t keep up the act for long; a smile peeks through as her eyes drift closed. “You said you’d send me to sleep, but here you are again, chattering away.”

“Allow me one last try, then. Lie down.”

“Don’t try your luck, bard,” she warns, though her threat is half-hearted. She lies down on the faded blue canvas of her sleeping roll. Already she can feel the roots press into her back, tempting knots back into the muscles of her shoulders that Loren just smoothed out.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He comes to sit beside her in the dirt and gently lifts one of her hands to hold it in his lap.

He leans close to her face, so that his hair falls in a sheet of red between them, and cups his palm around the shell of her ear.

He casts a spell — and begins to sing. It’s a lullaby of a sort, a magic charm to ease someone quickly and gently into slumber.

He sings it slowly and draws her softly down into a dream.

It’s a language that Jaylie does not recognize. As the spell sinks into her bones and embraces her like a warm bath, she concentrates on the sound of Loren’s voice. When everything else fades, it’s the last thing she holds on to.

When he is sure that she is asleep, Loren presses his lips to Jaylie’s forehead. “Good night, Jaybird.”