Page 35 of Snag
Presh blinks up at me, and I rub my hand down her back. My essence and the energy from the intersection point both ebb, though they don’t completely dissipate.
“I don’t need time,” Rath quietly insists. “I’m just —”
“Take it anyway.” Rought pivots to me and his baby sister, stepping close enough to block our sight of Rath. Taking in our hug, he smiles warmly. “I hear there’s a dire mage wandering around Newport, looking to stir up shit.”
I meet his steady gaze, then glance down at Presh. “Seems like the perfect opportunity for an essence training session.”
“Really?” Presh asks.
I glance at DeVille.
The younger shifter looks away from Presh just long enough to nod at me, steady and sure now. “I’m up for it.”
Rought presses a kiss to Presh’s head, holding my gaze. “I’ll come with you three.”
“I’d like that,” I say, just a bit stiffly. Because I can feel Rath looking at me, and I’m not interested in seeing his judgement. Again.
Presh slips away from my hold. But instead of following Rought and me as we head to the stairs, she turns and hugs Rath.
He holds her gently, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes.
I look away. I walk away.
Doing whatever the fuck I want.
According to Rath, that’s what I’m good at, after all. I might as well fulfill his expectations.
The quaint streetsof Newport around the Nail Bar salon are quiet, making me realize I don’t actually know what day of the week it is. Though that isn’t completely unusual for me, especially when I’m traveling internationally, it feels like another symptom of the disconnect I’m still —
Rought, talking quietly on his phone while continually surveying the immediate area, slides his warm, large handacross my lower back. And just like that, my surroundings solidify around me. As if I had actually been drifting partially in the aether. I understand that just because I’m the Conduit now, that doesn’t mean my physical body is up for containing all that power yet. Especially given that I was dead only a couple of days ago.
Still, the drift is annoying.
“Good,” Rought says into the phone. “Just waiting on Grinder. If we’re in town long enough, we’ll grab dinner for everyone on our way back. Who have you got tailing the Authority assholes?”
The two agents weren’t staked out at the entrance as we left the estate. Of course, had they been there but the universe didn’t want them to see me — as when I left to pick up Presh at the rave — then they somehow wouldn’t have noticed when we left. I’m not surprised that the Outcast MC has one or more members tailing them. Despite the agents’ ties to Reck and his ties to the motorcycle club, the Authority isn’t exactly welcome to wander around claimed territory.
“Have her send me updates every thirty minutes until we get back? Good.” Rought listens for a beat, his gaze sliding to me. “Yep, the Nail Bar. Ask Cay if she needs … no? Okay.”
Presh rocks on her feet just a little, pulling my attention to her. Then she smiles at me, gently.
Right. Training.
DeVille leans back against the huge crew-cab pickup Rought commandeered to take us into town, pulling a crushed pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his faded black hoodie and sticking one in his mouth as he searches his pockets for matches or a lighter. DeVille technically isn’t patched into the club yet, presumably having to wait untilhis beast form is revealed. Or maybe there’s an age requirement? But his oversized hoodie has the Outcast emblem emblazoned across the back. A hand-me-down, maybe. Or stolen from his brother Rought’s closet.
Presh follows my gaze, curling her lip at her self-appointed bodyguard. DeVille flashes her a cocky grin. His natural dark gray hair falls around his cheekbones, artfully framing his green eyes.
In a few more years, the teen is going to be a heartbreaker— and he won’t even notice his effect on people. Because his fixation with Presh will only deepen as the bond between them strengthens.
Presh snaps her gaze back to me. Deliberately. Clearly annoyed, but also clearly attempting to ignore that her exasperation is mostly directed inward. Losing Kris, almost losing herself in the process, but having DeVille steady and sure at her side is no doubt confusing. Only a few days ago, Presh proclaimed that she wasn’t ‘a fan’ of male lovers.
“You were saying something about essence resonance?” the young awry prompts, forcing me to focus on the here and now and not dwell on the intricacies of soul bonds. Specifically, whether or not those bonds have to be sexual in nature, especially if a person’s sexual preferences are ascribed elsewhere.
Those connections don’t have to be sexual. But most are.
“You said I might be able to pick up trails?” Presh touches the back of my hand.
Right. I’d been in the middle of explaining why I dragged Presh with me, away from the protection of the estate, despite Rath’s protests. I nod, sweeping my gaze up the street in both directions again. “There will be a lot of those trails here.”
