Page 53 of Magic Betrayed

“And where is… here?”

“Faris and Morghaine’s. It’s quiet during the day since they’re off dealing with the city health department, and big enough for both of you to recover while someone kept an eye on you. And before you protest that you don’t require babysitting, we had the medic come in to check on you both, and she warned that you would need a lot of rest. Didn’t want you waking up and taking off unsupervised.”

I gave her my most convincing “Who, me?” face.

“Whatever. You would have been out that door the minute you could walk, and you know it.”

Yes, probably. And I couldn’t decide whether I loved or hated that she knew that about me.

“Anyway, Callum wants to talk to you as soon as you feel up to it.”

That sentence was enough to send a jolt of adrenaline racing through my limbs. I scrambled out of bed, stood up, and discovered that—once again—I was wearing someone else’s pajamas.

It was probably a bad sign that I instantly wished the pajamas I was wearing were Callum’s.

Also, I really, really wanted to stop waking up in strange places wearing unfamiliar clothes.

“I’m up,” I said, with a brisk confidence that was miles from the truth. “And I need to talk to him, too.”

Kira looked me over for a moment as if trying to make sure that I wasn’t about to fall over, then tossed me a hoodie. “Sorry about changing your clothes again. You were covered in mud and blood, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up that way.”

“And I’m sorry about ruining your clothing and constantly needing to be brought home and put to bed like a toddler,” I said dryly. “I swear I’m going to break this habit as soon as possible.”

She laughed. “A pretty common occurrence for shapeshifters, I’m afraid. You’ll probably end up getting a lot more comfortable waking up in weird places wearing whatever clothes are available. Or you could always start carrying around extra outfits. Most shapeshifters do—kind of like a mom with a diaper bag.”

Yep, all of that would take some getting used to.

“Come on.” She headed for the door and beckoned me after her with a jerk of her head. “I’ll make you some tea while you guys talk.”

I pulled the hoodie on over a t-shirt featuring a band I’d never heard of, smoothed my hair back as surreptitiously as possible, and followed her out of the room.

We ended up in a wide hallway decorated with an oddly shaped mirror and half a dozen impersonal art prints—almost like a hotel. There were several other doors—all closed—and at the end of the hall, a set of stairs leading down. All of it was filled with natural light from numerous windows, and I couldn’t help feeling a little subdued as I was reminded of the vast difference between my own circumstances and those of everyone helping me.

My closest allies were two kings, a princess, her consort, and a royal heir, and then there was me—a criminal human refugee living on the generosity of others.

Lucky thing I’d been forced to bury my pride ages ago, or it would have been smarting with the reminder of the yawning gap between us. As it was? I would use every scrap of power and influence they were willing to lend me if it meant bringing Kes and the kids home.

The stairs opened into a bright, modern living space with massive, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over downtown. The open floor plan was simple and sleek, done mostly in gray and red, with black leather couches and a black dining room table. It appeared barely lived in, except for the stainless steel and black kitchen, which showed evidence of habitation—a coffeemaker, an electric kettle, two plants, a couple of abandoned mugs, and a frying pan on the range. The kitchen island was even messier, with a stack of papers, a laptop computer, a steaming mug of what—knowing Kira—was probably tea, and…

A dragon.

A gorgeous, grumpy dragon with messy hair, just the right amount of stubble, and an endearing frown on his lips…

I slapped myself mentally, just as said dragon spotted us and almost fell off his barstool.

But even as I was busy berating myself for the direction of my thoughts, our eyes met, and the most astonishing thing happened. For the first time since I’d known him… the dragonblushed.

Oh no. Was he remembering last night? The way he’d put his head in my lap while he slept? Recalling the things he’d said to me? Or worse, the fact that I’d been running my fingers through his hair?

Or was he just feeling embarrassed about being ambushed and taken out of the fight by a single drus and a bunch of tree roots?

No matter how badly I wanted to know, I was way too chicken to ask, so I went with a more practical inquiry.

“Was it as bad as it looked?” I tucked my hair behind my ear and hoped I sounded more brisk and businesslike than I felt.

When Callum just looked puzzled, I clarified.

“The van. Was everything completely destroyed?”

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