Page 111 of Soul Sucker

“Then how did we end up together?”

“Fate?”

She scowled at him. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then what?”

“I suspect it might have something to do with my visit to Otherworld the other week.”

“I remember you were reluctant to go there. Why is that?”

“Because I left.”

She poked him in the chest. “Morosov, stop being so damned cryptic.”

He sighed. “I left to escape certain malign forces that threatened my existence.”

“And going back reignited their interest in you.”

“You know the Fae, they like to toy with human emotions.”

“Why did you come with us then?”

“Because Alexei was absent, and I couldn’t let you go alone.”

She sank back down and rested her cheek on his chest. “Oh. Now I feel all responsible.”

His quiet chuckle surprised her. “Don’t. They would have found me eventually. Rossa has been keeping an eye on me for years.”

“Was that what his message was about? That someone wants you to go back to Otherworld permanently?”

“Not exactly.” She pinched him hard and he grabbed her hand. “If I go back, I’ll probably be executed.”

“What did you do?”

She felt him tense beneath her. “It’s in the past. I have no intention of talking about it now.”

“Why not?”

He kissed her fingers. “If we speak of it, we bring it into the present and Otherworld will know. I’d rather not make things worse.”

That made a weird kind of sense and she was too tired to argue anymore.

“Okay, let’s go to sleep then.”

She sensed Vadim start to relax almost immediately and she didn’t disturb him. To be honest, she was amazed he’d taken her into his confidence at all. One of the things she’d learned as an empath was that once a thought was out in the open it definitely took on a life of its own.

* * *

Ella first noticedsomething was up when she spotted Peach the receptionist sitting bolt upright at her post, her hands idle, her expression terrified. Normally Peach would be so busy with her social media and games by now that she barely remembered to look up and check Ella’s badge.

“Hey, Peach.”

“Ms. Walsh, Mr. Morosov.” Peach smiled. “Goodmorning!”

“Are you okay?”

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