Page 81 of Magic Claimed
I tried to glare at him, but it only lasted about three and a half seconds before his gaze ignited, his free hand caught me around the waist, and he tugged me closer till our noses nearly touched.
“It’s okay, I guess.” I was feeling much too shy to tell him how gorgeous he actually was. Or how much I really wished he would kiss me.
“Well, I like your face a lot,” he whispered, dropping the lightest and briefest of kisses on the center of my forehead. “I wish we could spend today just… being us.”
Oh, how I wished that too. Because the tiny hint of sadness in his voice reminded me that we still had no idea what thepoison was doing to his body. Only that it had robbed him of his magic and our bond.
He might recover, he might not. He might outlive me by hundreds of years—and I supposed we would need to talk about that eventually—or he might die long before I did. Either way, the only time we had for sure was right now.
And with that thought in mind, I stopped hesitating, threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged him down for a kiss—a light and simple touch of my lips to his that quickly turned to something deeper, something desperate and searching.
We broke apart only when a door slammed somewhere down the hall, reminding us that we weren’t exactly alone.
“I like everything about you, Callum-ro-Deverin.” I suddenly needed him to know. “No matter what happens from here on out, I hope you remember that.”
“Even if…” He stopped. As if he was afraid to say whatever words he’d nearly blurted out.
“Evenif,” I said steadily. “Even if you lose your hair, your magic, your money, your power… all of it. That’s what love means to me. Choosing you because you’reyou. And none of those things change who you are.”
He blinked rapidly as if fighting back emotions, then leaned in to press another gentle kiss to my hair.
“Honestly, I’ve never met any of my mother’s male relatives, so it’s possible I’ll go bald before I’m forty,” he informed me solemnly.
“We’ll shave your head and get you some tattoos. Don’tworry, the Ellens of this world will still trip all over themselves to get your attention.”
He laughed, just as I’d hoped he would. “Thank goodness. That was definitely what I was going to miss the most. So what’s our next move?”
I was now fairly certain that the disappearances were connected. But assuming I was right about the fact that Blake was behind them, why was he stealing teenagers? Given the number of followers he’d boasted during our fight at the Symposium, he’d clearly had no difficulty getting people to sign on to his cause.
Unfortunately, there was really only one way I could think of to find out. I needed a way in—a way to enter the world of this game and see what was actually going on. But there was no way I could turn myself into a convincing teenager in an online chat. We needed someone with genuine experience.
“Logan,” I muttered. “I’m going to have to let him help me again.”
We foundhim back at the new apartment, sitting at the kitchen island with his tablet, grumbling under his breath about having to do homework while the world burned. So he was definitely not upset when I told him what we needed him to do.
Log on to the website. PlayThrough the Portal to Everwhere. Find out what the game was about, what was happening in the chat, and whether there were any clues to what had happened to Tabitha or Jeremiah.
“You think they’ll try to kidnap me?” he asked as he bounded over the back of the couch and sprawled out, sounding a little more enthusiastic about the possibility than I was strictly comfortable with.
“If my suspicions are correct, then no,” I assured him dryly. “But don’t get too excited. We’ll have you well protected in case anyone tries.”
“You could always just let them have me,” he insisted eagerly. “I could be your spy. Find out what’s happening and where Tabitha and Jeremiah are being kept.”
“The answer is no,” I said sternly, giving him what I hoped was a reasonable facsimile of a mom glare. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“One who still won’t let me help,” he muttered, turning back to his tablet and tapping the screen a little more violently than necessary.
“Iamletting you help,” I reminded him. “Maybe more than I should be. Just remember never to give any personal information, don’t talk about Tabitha or Jeremiah by name, and if anything or anyone sounds suspicious, you tell us right away.”
“Yes,Mom.” He rolled his eyes, as per usual. “I’m not a baby.”
A few moments later, he looked up at me expectantly. “OK, I have the chat window open, and we’re getting a team going. What do you want me to ask?”
“Ask about Tabbycat409. Casually mention you haven’t seen her around lately and see what happens.”
While he went to work, I threw a surreptitious glance atCallum—searching for any hint that might indicate he needed to rest—but he caught me looking and raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll just… make tea.” I whirled around and started searching for mugs. And tea. And a kettle. It was only my second time in the new apartment, so I could only hope Kes had put them in approximately the same places. But the longer it took me to find them, the longer I could hide this face that might tell Callum just how concerned I was.
