Page 19 of Our Radiant Embers

“Did you?” She fluttered her fingers. “At my age, these things are hard to remember.”

“Your memory works just fine,” Liam said, long-suffering yet with an underlying note of affection.

Her lips quirked in a smile before she turned her attention to me. “So, you’re Adam Harrington?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I got up, which I should have done as soon as she’d entered the kitchen, and inclined my head. “Pleased to meet you.”

‘Ma’am?’ Liam mouthed when I glanced at him, his eyes comically wide. Yes, well—behold the wonders of a conservative upbringing.

“Indeed.” Her light tone carried an undercurrent of scrutiny. “And are you being nice to my grandson?”

Well, that went both ways, didn’t it?

“As long as he’s nice to me,” I said, sitting back down.

Liam blew an amused breath through his nose. “Please—I’m an angel.”

“Your halo must be in the invisible range,” I told him.

“That’s funny.” His tone implied the opposite.

Nan Jean wiggled her fingers in a dainty gesture. “Well, you don’t seem near as terrible as your family reputation would imply. Every bit as powerful though, aren’t you?”

It felt like some kind of test, designed to appear like the harmlessly unfiltered words of an elderly woman. Was I meant to defend my family, or was she trying to assess how easily I took offence?

Also, what had prompted her assessment of my powers?

“Reputations can develop lives of their own, can’t they?” I sent her a mild look. “As part of the family behind the Aqua Reclaimer, you’ve probably seen it yourself.”

“Well said, my boy.” She studied me for a moment longer before she turned to fill a glass with tap water.

“I could have brought it up for you,” Liam told her, and she sent him a bright, fond look.

“And leave me sitting in front of the TV, twiddling my thumbs all day? I don’t think so. But I guess I should leave you boys to it.”

“Please do,” Liam said, smiling, affection softening his eyes. It was a sight I couldn’t immediately reconcile with the sharp-edged man who’d barely even blinked at seeing me melt sand into glass.

Nan Jean made her way to leave as I offered a goodbye that she echoed, not unkindly. I listened to her steps receding up the stairs, a counterpoint to the silence that hung between Liam and me. He seemed content to wait me out, so I tapped my fingers on the wooden table. Marks of time and use scarred its wooden surface.

“Think it’s been a while since anyone has called me ‘boy’.”

“I hope your ego hasn’t suffered too much?” His tone dripped with fake concern.

“I’ll live.” I flattened my hand against the tabletop. “Also, you need an office.”

“Sure, if you can magically conjure one.” He shoved a hand through his already messy hair. I’d come to identify it as a habit that betrayed a certain level of frustration.

“Put it on top of your workshop. Gale might be able to do a first, rough concept for you.”

Liam studied me for a beat, his expression difficult to read. “He’s low magic,” he said then.

Fuck, how did he know? Keeping Gale’s status a secret protected him, preventing others from marking him as an easy target. I straightened and let my voice go crisp. “Who claims that?”

“No one.” Liam scoffed. “Jesus, settle down, will you? It’s just a guess based on the way he carries himself.”

“He’s shy.”

Liam stared at me in unimpressed silence. Typically, I was immune to psychological trickery, but ever since that night at the pub, something about him put me on edge.

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