Page 88 of Powerless

ChapterTwenty-Seven

Paedyn

I waketo the unfortunately familiar sound of birds squawking above me.

I woke up.

Squinting in the blinding sun, I gently run my hands over where my healing wound hides beneath the folds of battered cloth.

I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’m healing.

Then my fingers find their way to the strap of leather tight around my arm. I’m shocked to find it’s still there. Shocked that Kai didn’t cut it from my dying body in the first place. Shocked that he saved my life, nursed me back to health, and let me keep my stupid strap of leather through it all.

Apparently, he went through all this trouble to be a good sport, agentleman.

My ass.

“Good morning. Well, it’s almost afternoon, actually.”

My head whips towards the deep voice coming from behind. And there he is, hands in pockets, ankles crossed, and leaning against a low hanging branch. Now that I’m not a breath away from death, his appearance and lack of shirt is suddenly extremely distracting. I avert my gaze quickly, though I don’t miss the smirk sliding to his lips when he catches me staring.

Annoying, arrogant ass.

“I’m surprised you’re still here. Along with my band,” I say, casually dusting the dirt from my clothes.

He huffs out a soft laugh behind me. “Eager to be rid of me, darling?”

I clear my throat and turn to face him, leaning back on my palms as I eye him curiously. His hair is messy, strands of it clinging to his forehead with sweat, right above where his eyes shine like bits of silver. There’s a shadow of stubble clinging to his sharp jaw, and I can just make out the faint divot of his right dimple, equally distracting and devastating.

I can’t stand it.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, gesturing between the two of us.

“The plan for...?” He tilts his head slightly to the side, peering at me, playing with me. He knows exactly what I mean.

“For us.”

“Us. I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

I roll my eyes, ignoring him. “What do we do now?”

“That is a very loaded question, Gray.”

I blink. He didn’t say my first name. And for some maddening reason, I wish he had.

I’m annoyed with both myself and him, so naturally, I take it out on the latter. “Why didn’t you take my band? And why not try to take it now that I’m healed?”

Amusement tilts up the corner of his mouth as he pushes off the tree branch and strides towards me. “That’s another loaded question.” That right dimple deepens. “First of all, you’re not completely healed. Second, why would I pass up the opportunity to work together? You know we make a great team. And third,” he crouches down in front of me so we are eye to eye as he continues, “it’s cute that you said I couldtryto take your band from you.”

Now both dimples are taunting me.

“Well, if you’re so confident, go ahead andtry.” My face is close to his, my voice full of challenge. “I’m sure you remember how our last fight ended.”

“You’re still injured, remember?”

“And you don’t look much better,” I say, frowning at his wrapped shoulder, though no blood dots the white fabric.

“Concerned for your new partner?” A wicked grin spreads across his face as his eyes flick between mine. He’s close. Too close. He smells of pine and rain and sweat and, Plagues, I need to distract myself.

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