Page 73 of Discovered Magic
Royal swore softly, but didn’t release her. “Pull it back, Fire Cat. You have a fever and need the warmth.”
“Well, I’m hot, so get off me,” she snapped, shoving at his broad chest.
“Doesn’t mean your fever’s gone,” he replied dryly. “And I’m comfortable at the moment, so indulge me.”
“The hell I will!”
She wiggled to escape, only to have his arms tighten.
“Calm down,” he ordered in a low, urgent voice. “I have no intention of hurting you. But your heightened fear is feeding Morcant, and you need to simmer down. My holding you is for show.”
“You could’ve started with that last bit.” She followed Royal’s cold stare to the man tucked in the corner.
The creepy fucker was half in shadow, with his glowing eyes. The gleam of his smile sent a ripple along her nerve endings and made her want to puke.
“What is he doing?” she whispered, striving for the calm Royal encouraged.
“He’s an Arcane Devourer and lives off strife. The best we can figure is he absorbs the heightened energy,” he said in a hushed tone. “I try never to give him what he wants.”
“That’s some remarkable self-control you have there, buddy.” She shifted her head to see his face. “Thank you.”
“Life is all about control, Fire Cat.” He watched her closely as he said, “As a witch, you should know that.”
Her face might not give her away, but she was sure the tensing of her body did.
“What elemental are you?” he asked, loosening his steely arms to give her a little freedom.
“I don’t know.”
His brows dipped. “How can that be?”
“Whatever magic I was gifted didn’t manifest until I fell off a mountain.” She hesitated to tell him she was a Traveler’s daughter. There was no telling what an outlaw might do with the information. “And how do you know about witches? Most mortals don’t unless they get involved with one.”
“That’s not important.”
His tone indicated further discussion was closed on that end, and she waited him out. Eventually he said, “We fell in with some a year back. It’s how Morcant became part of our gang. Jennings is twisted, and Morcant enjoys feeding on the chaos he causes.”
“Is that why Jennings shot Gus?”
“Yes. He’s a sick fuck.”
She blinked at his modern speech. “What year were you born?”
He stilled.
“Not this century, I’d venture,” she said.
“Don’t go there.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired and want to sleep,” he retorted without heat.
“How are we supposed to do that with Creepy McCreeperson hanging about like a fucking spider waiting for a fly?”
Royal’s white grin flashed in the low light. “You rest, Fire Cat, and dream delicious thoughts of me. That’ll keep him from feasting.”
Her stomach flipped. Whether from the suggestion of delicious thoughts of the man holding her or from the horrid image of Morcant tapping into her dreams, she couldn’t begin to say. There was no way she was sleeping now. Besides, her leg ached too fucking bad.
