Page 80 of Hunted in the Shadows
“Keep an eye on things out here?” I asked, glancing up at Cliff.
“Yeah, I think I can handle five minutes of guard duty.” He sat on the neighboring bed, sketchbook and pencil in hand.
I traced the circular rune with the brush of a fingertip and whispered the spell. I met Jon’s gaze, searching for a kernel of consent. He placed his hand next to me in answer. Magic roaring in my ears, I touched the side of his hand and pulled us both into the spectral plane.
Our private sanctuary blossomed around us. We were no longer on the motel bed, now standing before each other on ground that seemed smudged with the horizon. Soft and yielding, yet firm under my feet. I felt the dampness of sweat on my brow vanish, my clothes becoming lighter. The colors of the space weren’t as sharp as they usually were—perhaps due to my own partial inebriation.
The stark quiet of the plane felt like an embrace, a gentle hum of magic and energy as our minds met.
Jon cut a strong figure before me—little more than a head taller than me here. His cheeks were still flushed and his gaze glassy, but my heart still fluttered at the sight of him. Reachable, touchable,mine.
I rushed to close the space between us, taking hold of his arms with a gentle smile. He tensed under my hands, starting to pull away like he’d been scalded.
“Stop wasting your magic on me,” Jon said.
“It’s not a waste.” I let my hands settle on his abdomen, lifting my chin to catch his eyes. “Do you want me to leave?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
Jon studied me. He swallowed and shook his head.
My smile returned, and I allowed my touch to stray with confidence, taking his hands in mine and squeezing. “I just feel like I can talk to you better here sometimes, when we’re eye to eye. You know?”
He frowned down at me, the faintest smirk flickering at the corner of his mouth. “That’s not happening unless you conjure a stepstool in here.”
I snorted.Stars,he really is drunk.
But Jon’s playful chuckle rapidly faded as he continued to gaze at me, eyes growing wet. My breath caught as he pressed closer, freeing his hands to cup my face. Despite the slight unsteadiness from the alcohol, his hands were still so much bigger than mine, encompassing my cheeks completely. His thumbs brushed over my temples, sending a shiver down my spine. The spectral plane masked some of the sensation, numbing the places where callouses should have been against my smooth skin and stealing his natural warmth.
Jon searched my face like he was looking for an answer. I remembered the man I’d first met in Dottage Mansion—the hulking shadow that captured me without remorse. It felt like that man had died, replaced byhim, his dark eyes flooding with tears the longer he looked.
“I’m sorry, Sylv,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” I said, placing my hands over his. “It’s alright, Jon.”
He frowned, shaking his head. “That look on your face when I had you pinned… It ripped the soul out of me.” Jon grimaced around the words. “You thought I was going to kill you.”
My breath caught. I tightened my grip on his wrists, glancing down—remembering how it felt to have the air stolen from me in the Pit, the way he’d prowled beneath me.
“Not for a second,” I said.
“Then why can’t you look at me?”
Fuck.I lifted my chin, forcing my eyes back up. His expression withered at the truth that shone there.
“Jon—” I started.
He shook his head. A tear snaked down his cheek, and he sank down to his knees, hands sliding down to my waist. He lookedup at me. “I’msosorry. No soporto que pienses de mí como una bestia, me mataría.”
Any other day, I might’ve been enticed by the sight of Jon on his knees for me. What woman wouldn’t be? But he was so shattered, and I couldn’t bear it. I sank down with him and pulled him into my arms. His weight nestled heavily against me, anchoring us together.
“It’s not your fault—not anyone’s fault except those bastards who put us in there,” I said. I chewed my lip, hesitating before adding, “I know you’d never be cruel. You’d want to give me mercy.”
“No.” Jon shuddered in my arms, his head heavy on my shoulder. “You don’t understand—I’d let them skin me alive before it came to that, Sylv.”
There was something fierce and ground-down in his voice, even when choked by emotion. It made hairs prickle on the back of my neck. I couldn’t help but believe him, even as Gwen’s aggrieved face flickered through my mind. She claimed Jon had used another hunter—Luke—as bait, and I struggled to merge that idea of Jon withthisone.
I couldn’t bring myself to question him. Not when he was like this. Not when I was too laden with exhaustion to bear the knowledge of such a heartless act.
Turning my head, I kissed his temple and murmured, “Eres un huevón.”
