Page 67 of Morning's Light

Things were much worse now.

Her phone rang: Elon. She ignored it and slid her fingers along her arm until they connected with the script. Whatever they’d managed to do hours earlier, the burns were no longer burns. They’d darkened, sunk lower into her skin until the words became a tattoo. Written on her skin and soul while she waited to find out their meaning.

She stayed in the bath until the water turned cool, then changed into a fresh pair of pants and her most comfortable t-shirt, a carryover from her college years. Her mind ran in circles, like a snake eating its own tail. Their incantation had failed. All attempts to find a way to stop the thing hunting them had failed. She could really use a win.

Darkness had already made a play for Astix. Now it was coming for her. And every step they took forward was nothing but three steps backward in disguise.

Unbidden, her thoughts took a turn to something different although not necessarily pleasant.

Elon.

She should really give him a call back. She remembered the concern in his eyes before he’d fallen asleep, after watching her rise several times to check the window and make sure the shadows outside were normal. Not only concern, but patience while he dealt with her and her shit. It took a strong man to care so much. To keep coming back again and again when she told him no. No. No!

What was it about him, what made him tick? What set him apart from the rest of the herd? She would love to know.

He deserved more than a raise, she thought dreamily. He deserved a thank-you for finding her on the street and taking her into his home. For making love to her and caring about her experience along with his own.

Israel flicked to the forefront of her brain and Aisanna cringed. True, they had no real commitment to each other beyond casual sex. The distance between Israel and any real affection she might have felt lengthened until it spanned a continent. An ocean.

He was a better choice, though. He was a witch himself and understood the secrecy and caution that went along with having a gift. He was older, self-sufficient—as self-sufficient as one could get on Mommy and Daddy’s dime—and didn’t work for her. All good things, in her book.

Somehow the boundaries, the lines she’d associated with Elon had blurred, and she did not know when or how. The corners of her lips rose in a smile when she thought about him. Thought about the play of light on his hair that brought out the rich tones of dark chestnut. Bare shoulders tapered down to sculpted abs begging for her touch. The faintest dusting of hair shadowing the center of his pectoral muscles and trailing down toward his navel…

She got up for water when her heart began to hammer in time to the pulsing between her legs. Boy, she was in real trouble if just thinking about Elon brought on such a strong reaction. Strong and unwarranted. Inappropriate, she tried to tell herself.

She needed a drink. Bad.

When she’d lived at home, she’d shared a Jack-and-Jill style set-up with Karsia. During last year’s remodel, Karsia had wanted to go with an eclectic take on a fairy tale. At least that’s what she’d told the designer, who gave her something fit for a magazine spread instead.

Aisanna flipped the light switch and the chandelier tinkled on, showering the room with sparkled light. The hammered-copper sink added depth and color to the room.

Water filled the basin and she let it run until it warmed, then splashed some on her face. She scrubbed harder until her cheeks stung.

She had to find a way to adjust to her new circumstances, to find out what she could live with and what she couldn’t. Find out what mattered and what didn’t, and try not to be scared. Perspective didn’t come easy, but she had to try. Otherwise, what was the point?

She turned off the spigot and reached for the nearest towel, something fluffy and pink. Steam rose from the still-hot water to fog the lower half of the mirror. Aisanna set the towel aside and stared at her reflection.

Ugh, no, bad idea. What she saw there didn’t comfort her. She saw someone who was out of control. Astix was right. Aisanna was more concerned with men than with her personal safety. Even hours after the argument and the spell-gone-wrong, she was focusing on Elon.

What was wrong with her?

Then she saw a ripple under her cheek. She leaned closer, touching a particularly tender spot below her brow bone. As she watched, something moved beneath her skin like fingertips pressing out from the inside. Shades of grey and black twisted behind her eyes, and when she opened her mouth, the words coming out were not her own.

“You’re mine.”

Aisanna screamed, scrambling back and knocking into the towel warmer. It clattered to the floor and she fell on it, bashing her tailbone on the metal.

All a dream, she reprimanded. Get a grip.

When she pinched herself and registered the pain, she knew she was awake. Then her phone rang, jolting her into the present. She stared down at the cell lying on the counter. This time it was Israel, and it wasn’t the first time he’d called. There were three missed calls from him.

What the hell?

Aisanna reached for the screen and used her thumb to answer. “H-hello?”

“Babe? It’s me.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I can read the caller ID. What’s going on? It’s almost seven o’clock.”

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