Page 30 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
Glass. Something heavy. Loud enough to send a spike of adrenaline through him.
His gaze snapped back to The Charis Foundation and, without thinking, he broke into a run. The waiting area blurred past him, his pulse hammering in his ears as he rounded the corner to her office?—
And froze.
Nia stood, her posture tense but unyielding as an enormous man loomed over her. His voice booming with anger.
“You think you’re powerful? You’re a fucking leech.”
Blinding rage surged through Lochlan, his fists clenching at his sides. His body coiled, ready to intervene?—
But Nia didn’t look hurt. She didn’t even look rattled. Still, when her gaze met his, he caught it—that flicker of relief. Right before her face twisted in unmistakable annoyance.
Shit.
The man thundered on, his rage unchecked. “You’ll regret this, you fucking bitch.”
Lochlan’s fists tightened, ready to step in and—shadows slid into motion around the room. They moved with a fluid grace, wrapping around the man’s limbs like living restraints, pinning his large body back against the wall with no apparent effort.
“My ride’s here,” Nia said with quiet authority. “So we’re done. You have until next Saturday to make sure the donations go through. If not, you know what will happen.”
Lochlan didn’t know what this meant, but the way the man’s face paled told him it wasn’t an idle threat. A memory surfaced of the Mabon celebration—he’d seen her speaking to someone else who looked like they were angry, or in pain. Was this the same thing?
Was Nia forcing people to donate?
The man strained against the shadows binding him, his mouth twisting as if to speak, but the magic held firm. His face turned purple, eyes bulging, everything about the man seething with rage as Nia marched him through the waiting area and out onto the sidewalk before her shadows finally released him.
She locked the door behind him before turning toward Lochlan, her expression unreadable.
Part of him wanted to go to her, to pull her close, to feel her against him—whole, safe, here. The other part of him wanted to ask what the hell he’d just witnessed. Caught between the urge to comfort and the storm of questions spinning in his mind, Lochlan stayed frozen as Nia strode back into her office.
The air crackled, charged with magic, as shadows rose—twisting, coiling, righting furniture and collecting pieces of the broken picture frame Lochlan had heard fall. Nia’s anger pulsed through the room with her shadows. She crossed her arms and broke the silence. “Nothing to say?”
Lochlan hesitated. There was plenty he wanted to say, but none of it would come out.
“No comment on how dangerous that was?” she continued, her voice tight with frustration. “How I’m stupid for putting myself in a situation like this?”
Yes, it had been dangerous. Reckless, even. And he hated finding her in the middle of it. But if he wanted to earn her trust, to understand her, he needed to choose his words carefully.
“Why are you even here?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“I want—” Taking a deep breath, Lochlan ran a hand through his hair. “—to know if you’ve eaten.”
She blinked, her anger flickering into confusion. “What?”
“Have you eaten?”
“I heard what you said.” Her tone was brisk, but it lacked the ire from before.
“And?” he pressed, surprised by how calm his voice sounded.
She paused, her brows knitting together as her shadows finished their work and dissolved into the darkness of the room.
“No,” she admitted. “I haven’t eaten.”
He nodded, the tension in his chest easing slightly. Without another word, he walked toward the entrance. Before unlocking the door, he checked the sidewalk to make sure it was clear, then opened and held it for her. Nia hesitated for a moment before stepping past him, her expression a mix of wariness and confusion. But she didn’t protest.
For now, that was as much encouragement as Lochlan expected to get.
