And he waited.
Just as he’d suspected, it didn’t take long for him to hear the sound of flapping wings. He felt a charge in the air that raised the hair on his arms, making him swallow a quick intake of breath. He waited several more moments before he turned around.
Olivia stood, barefoot, six paces away from him, wearing his shirt. He’d always known she was gorgeous, but her beauty seemed much more obvious now that he knew she was an immortal. Her hair wasn’t ordinary black; it was obsidian, and her brown skin shimmered as if lightly coated in gold dust. And while before her eyes had been just green, now Jonas saw they held the shade and depth of dark, otherworldly emeralds.
“Figured you’d need some clothes,” he said. “I don’t know much about Watchers, but I do know that most girls are modest about that sort of thing.”
Her expression was tense, her gaze fixed on him. “I’m sorry, Jonas.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said the last time I saw you.”
“I couldn’t tell you what I was before.”
“Why not?”
“Would you have asked me to join you if you knew?” She exhaled shakily, then straightened her shoulders. “I know I made mistakes, but please remember that I did save your life by healing your wound.”
“And then you let Lysandra die.”
“I wasn’t ready. I had no idea our paths would cross with his so soon. My magic is substantial, but it’s no match for the fire Kindred. Timotheus warned me to avoid him at all costs, that it wasn’t my job to fight him, only to protect you.”
Jonas blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? The fire Kindred?”
Olivia nodded solemnly. “Kyan . . . he is the fire Kindred. An elemental god previously imprisoned in an amber orb.”
Jonas now stared at her with undiluted shock. “And you chose to wait until now to tell me that?”
“I told you, it wasn’t my job to explain. Only to—”
“Yeah, only to protect me. Got it. You’ve done a stellar job, by the way.” He rubbed his eyes. “Tell me, Olivia, why would you need to protect me?”
“Because Timotheus told me to.”
“I’ve no idea who Timotheus is. And yet, Kyan mentioned him too.”
“He is my elder. My leader.”
“Another Watcher.”
“Yes. He has visions of the future. One of those visions included you. Somehow, in some way, you’re important, Jonas. Phaedra knew it too. That’s why she watched over you. That’s why she sacrificed her life to save yours.”
“What role could I have possibly played in this Timotheus’s vision? I’m a poor vineyard worker from Paelsia, a failed rebel leader. I’m nobody.”
“That’s exactly what I told him,” she said, nodding. “That you’re a complete nobody. But still he insisted.”
He gaped at her. She presented her insulting words as simple facts, without a sliver of belligerence.
“You can go now. I don’t want you anywhere near me. Go, fly off to your Sanctuary. Or have you exiled yourself on my behalf, just like Phaedra did?”
“Hardly. The mystical walls that kept us locked inside our world fell away when the new sorceress’s blood was spilled. If the others knew this, they might try to leave, thus putting themselves in danger with the fire Kindred on the loose. So Timotheus is keeping it a secret.”
Jonas’s jaw tightened. “Go away, Olivia.”
“I know you’re angry about Lysandra. I’m angry, too. But we can’t change it. It’s done. I couldn’t have saved her anyway, even if I’d gone against Timotheus’s orders.”
“You could have damn well tried.”
Her expression tightened. “You’re right, I should have. But I was afraid. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m back, and I mean to uphold my duty to Timotheus—even if it means I must occasionally break the rules.”