Page 78 of Twisted Ties
I am paralyzed,unable to move, struck by indecision.
Do I run? Do I call out to Winnie and Pip? Do I fight?
Or do I step towards him? Step closer like the pull in my gut demands.
It’s that magic of his again, weaving through the air, ensnaring me like a sinister web.
It has to be his magic, doesn’t it? Because it can’t be anything else.
I peer through the gap in the door to the kitchen and I can see him sitting there, on the chair Winnie vacated only moments ago, his tattooed arms resting in his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.
For a moment, I’m stunned by how striking the man is. Something I never appreciated in that dark alley in Los Magicos. Here, in the sunlit kitchen, I see him more clearly.His brown skin glows almost golden in the light and his frame is even bigger, even more muscular than I remember. Hard, solid. Yet, even with the scars that criss cross his face, there’s something boyish about it, emphasized by his strangely mismatched eyes.
“What?” The corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile and those eyes twinkle with malevolence that has my blood running both hot and cold. “Not pleased to see me?” He rests his hand over his heart and pouts at me. “I’m hurt. Here I was believing we were such good friends now.”
“We’re not friends,” I say coolly.
He nearly killed me last time we met. If it hadn’t been for Azlan, I would be dead. I can’t let him strike first this time. Not with Winnie and Pip upstairs.
Could I blast at him through the gap in the door? Could I strike him first? Would I be strong enough to take him out?
What am I waiting for?
“Look at all those wheels spinning in your head. It is adorable. You don’t want to die, do you?”
“I’m not going to die. You’re the one who is in danger here.”
The corner of his mouth twitches a second time. “You actually believe that, don’t you? But little rabbit, there’s no one to save you this time.” He lumbers to his feet, like this whole conversation is draining or boring or both. He tucks the chair back under the table and takes a pace towards the door.
I try to step backward, retreat up the stairs, but I’m frozen in place, those invisible twines of his twisted around my body like last time.
“It has been a challenge to get you on your own again,” he continues, “to find this private time for us to talk – because I have been very keen to talk with you again. Buthe’s always been there, hasn’t he?” His face twists ugly as he paces through the door, his movements like a jaguar stalking its prey. “Only now … he’s not.” He grins, all sinister, his mis-colored eyes manic in their intensity. An intensity which would be almost mesmerizing if it weren’t focused on my destruction. He waves his hand through the air. “Maybe he’s not the man for you. Maybe you need someone more,” he walks closer, “dangerous.” He flicks his tongue over each syllable in that word and despite myself, I shiver.
His face lights up in delight. “You like that idea, little rabbit?” he whispers eagerly.
I watch him, my body itching to step towards him, straight into the snare I’m sure he’s setting for me.
I shiver again, this time from fear, but I’m not as frightened as I was the last time we faced each other. This is my home, my sanctuary. And I’m realizing his insanity gives me an advantage. He could have killed me already. Struck me as I walked down the stairs. That would have been the efficient thing for an assassin to do. But he’s not efficient, he’s wasteful. He wants to play. And playing gives me a chance. One I intend to use. I just need to keep him talking, talking as I carefully unfurl the magical binds he’s wrapping around me. I won’t make the same mistake I made last time, won’t blast through these ties and waste all my magic. I need to conserve it, conserve it for the fight.
“How did you find me?”
He grins at me. “I’m not giving away my secrets that easily. But if you want to trade … I reckon there are one or two things you could do for me.”
My brow crinkles. Isn’t he here to kill me? Has he changed his mind? Does he think I have information worth hearing?
Except that dark look of his doesn’t suggest the thing he wants to trade is information.
“Why do you want to talk?” I ask.
He cocks his head to one side. “You’ve sparked my interest.” I glare at him and my expression seems to delight him. “You’ve obviously sparkedhistoo. What is it about you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re fucking him.” He frowns, a more genuine expression, and comes nearer, slowly drawing in breath, his nostrils flaring. “You don’t smell so innocent anymore. Not like you did.” His eyes flick over my face. “But it has to be more than the sex that’s tempted him. Don’t get me wrong, you are pretty.” I frown despite myself, trying to concentrate on unwinding his magic and not letting myself become diverted by his mad ramblings. “Pretty but not exactly …” He smirks and his gaze meanders down my body in a way that doesn’t seem disdainful. In fact, there’s a heat in it. A heat that warms my blood and has me edging forward. More fucked up magic? “Then again …”
“You’ve been watching me?” I say, scrambling around for a way to keep him talking.
“I have.” His eyes find mine. “I like watching you.” He takes another step nearer. He’s close now. I can smell the masculine scent of him. The sensation in my belly hums. “You’re such a strange little thing. And you sound so delicious when you scream. You know, I bet I could make you scream twice as loud as he can.”
