Page 113 of Summoned
Ten more seconds. I allow myself that. Ten seconds to either accept this potential reality or forget it altogether.
A faint tremor runs through me as I tune into our link. The connection floods back into me. It’s not like the others. It never was.
The air in front of me ripples. The portal shimmers into existence, twisting the space around it. If my suspicion is correct… My inner world shatters and reassembles, but instead of fear, a surge of excitement rises within me. If there’s ever a chance she’ll forgive me, I might have just found it with this.
I step into the portal. It’s night when I emerge. I walk into a small, dimly lit room. The only source of light is the greenish glow from the oven’s digital clock. Shadows swallow the outlines of the kitchen cabinets. In the far corner, I make out a couch with posters on the surrounding walls.
Those details fade into the background the moment my gaze falls on the slightly ajar door to the balcony. Nicole’s silhouette stands out against the night—a lone figure with her elbows resting on the cold metal railing, her focus on the darkness beyond.
I move toward her, leaving the shadows behind. To avoid startling her, I keep my footsteps light. Still, despite my silence, she spins around. The quickness of her movement confirms what I already suspected.
She senses me.
Her body stiffens as her eyes lock with mine. I slide the door open and step closer, my pulse quickening. The faint scent of rose shampoo hangs in the air, and my fingers twitch with the urge to touch her.
When I come to a halt, life seeps back into her posture, shoulders trembling, features sharpening. Only then do I notice the glistening in her eyes. The realization that she’s been crying lands in my chest like a stone. I lift my hand, reaching to wipe away the evidence of her sorrow. She recoils, pressing her spine against the railing.
A pang pierces me, but I accept it. I’ve earned her distance. “Please…let me say this,” I murmur. She flinches, as if my words are shards of glass. “How do you always know I’m near?”
Her eyes widen. “I told you to stay away from me!”
I reach for her, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. She doesn’t pull back, but the muscles beneath my touch are tense. “I tried,” I say. “It’s impossible. We’re connected in a way I can’t ignore. But I need to hear it from you…”
Nicole yanks her hand free. “Then hear this. I hate you. And I hope someday you’ll feel a fraction of what you put yourharveststhrough.”
It cuts deep. I deserve that, too. “Nicole… How do you sense me every time? How did you find me in the labyrinth?”
For a heartbeat, her focus drifts to the darkness of the kitchen.
Could she be in another man’s apartment? A rush of blazing jealousy claws its way through my ribs, fierce enough to burn everything in its path. No. I push the thought aside. Even if she is… I have no right to care. Yet, the question slips out. “Who lives here?”
A flicker of hesitation ripples through her, followed by deep-set frown. “Leave!”
“Not until you confirm you can feel me.”
Defiance sparks in her glare—the kind that always stirs my blood. These power games are another reason I admire her, but today, time isn’t on our side. Fully aware it mightcost me another demerit, I raise my open palm. “I’m sorry, my Baroness, I need that answer.”
Fire flares in my hand, illuminating her face and dancing over her skin. The air between us thickens with heat and tension. Her irises reflect the flames, as if tiny firestorms swirl within them.
“If you don’t answer, I’ll burn this place to the ground,” I say.
“Don’t!” she screams.
“Niki?” A soft voice calls from behind.
A woman stands in the doorway, probably close to Nicole’s age. The color drains from her face as she shifts her gaze between me and Nicole. Then she steps back, her hand fumbling behind her for the doorframe.
“Everything’s okay, Daria,” Nicole says, her tone low and fragile.
“That’s…him?” The woman whispers.
Nicole nods. At that moment, everything falls into place. Nicole, the apartment, and the woman standing in front of me. This is Daria. The childhood friend who’s coming up on my harvest list. My last signed contract.
Daria’s eyes track the fire burning in my palm, and her breath catches audibly. “But why is he threatening to burn my home?”
I’m not really, I want to say, my resolve weakening.
Nicole speaks first. “He’s not, because I’ll give him what he wants.” Tears stream down her cheeks.When she looks at me, the fight in her is gone, and only desperation remains. “Every time you’re around… the air fills with a particular scent. It’s sweet… but with a metallic tang. The closer you are, the stronger it gets.”
