Page 33 of Sweets and Sycamores
Oh.
Ohhhh.
Oh gods.
Allie gasped, her hand flying over her mouth. She studied the man in front of her, all tall and broad and broody, sharp jaw covered with the beginning of stubble, soft curls framing his face. Deep green eyes staring at her, searching, waiting.
“You’re the Mage who’s investigating the magic rupture on the sycamores.”
Chapter 14
THOUGHT THERE WAS A SPLINTER
“How do you know about that?”
“Your sister told me.”
His eyes narrowed, and Allie wasn’t sure if it was because she referred to Mia as his sister or because Mia had told her about the town’s history.
“What else did she tell you?” he rasped.
Allie swallowed and broke his intense gaze, her eyes finding an interesting patch of dark grass under her boots.
“She told me about the Witch who broke the spell on the sycamores.” She fidgeted with the sleeves of her jacket, then crossed her arms tightly against her chest.
A pair of bigger boots came into her view. She felt more than heard Dominic’s long sigh, hot air brushing the skin on her forehead. His warm fingers gripped her chin, and he tilted her head up, drawing her gaze back into his shimmering emeralds.
“That has nothing to do with you.” A fierce strength commanded his tone, and Allie wanted to accept the truth in his words more than anything. But she couldn’t. The hatred toward Witches she grew up with, the isolation she fought, the prejudice she tried to overcome—these were all justified when Witches kept proving their vileness.
Allie wasn’t foolish enough to think she was any different when her lack of control put the people around her in danger. Sure, she never did it on purpose, but did that truly matter in the end?
She stepped back from the Mage’s touch and offered him a weak smile, shoving her fisted hands back in her pockets.
“Thank you for saving my life, Mr. Ranford. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for.”
Allie didn’t have enough energy left to protest. She felt empty and dry, as if the flames that had exploded out of her took her essence with them.
Tomorrow would be better. Even though it would bring her one day closer to Lydia’s deadline. With almost two weeks having passed and no progress, maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be better. Maybe it would be worse.
But tomorrow was tomorrow’s problem.
“Let’s go.” Dominic’s voice was so uncharacteristically soft, Allie didn’t know what to do with it.
She followed him and was shocked when Ekko flew from her shoulder to Dominic’s, nuzzling his cheek. Dominic did not react, but he didn’t shoo the dragon away either.
They walked back to the bakery in silence. The temperatures had dropped each hour into the inky night, and Allie expected the crisp, cold wind to gnaw at her cheeks. She was surprised that not one lock of her hair fluttered when the sycamore branches were waving lazily against the starry night sky, like she was shielded against it.
Dominic unlocked the door and turned on the lights, the white hurting Allie’s eyes. All she wanted to do was plop into bed and forget about today. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.
At the end of the small hallway, Allie made a left to her studio room while Dominic made a right to the stairs, Ekko flying next to her by the door. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and turned abruptly.
“Mr. Ranford.” He halted at the foot of the stairs and turned, his broad frame sagging with exhaustion. Allie had scraped the bottom of her soul for a wisp of energy during the walk and thought of sharing a few words of gratitude. But when she looked at Dominic now, at his ruffled chestnut hair and tired eyes, she decided against it. She would babble all the words she thought of tomorrow. “Thank you.”
Dominic opened his mouth to object again, but something made him decide against it.
“Let’s start at six tomorrow,” he said, then turned around and climbed up the stairs, leaving no room for debate.
