Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

At that exact moment, I eagerly let him tug me toward him.

The second I step over the line, I make my move. Honestly, it was his own fault. He should’ve been expecting me to do something. And maybe he did. Maybe Gillespie had braced himself for me to push him away or something.

He probably didn’t guess that I would want to touch him again.

His grip was too light. It’s easy for me to slip my fingers out of his hold. But, instead of rising up to slap him or shove at his chest, I lash my hand out, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. I press the flat of my palm against his bare skin and let my fae side take over.

I did something just like this right after Nine claimed me in front of the Fae Queen’s Court. Following his lead, totally unaware that it was even possible, I turned the touch around on Nine, taking his strength and his power into me.

Touch magic. Fae magic.

I’m part fae. It’s about time I acted like it. Even more, I’m the Shadow.

Gillespie picked the wrong chick to mess with.

Who knows? Maybe he doesn’t realize the extent of what I could do. Fair enough since I don’t, either. Doesn’t matter. As soon as I turn the touch around on him, my former doctor goes rigid as I suck out as much of his… I don’t know, soul?… his soul as I can.

Something pops over my head. The magic humming between us has blown out one of the lightbulbs. I can hear a high-pitched whine, then another pop as a second bulb goes kaput, then another.

Darkness falls around us, tendrils of shadows wisping their way around my legs as I use the touch to my advantage. Forget being weak. Forget being tired. I’m starving, but not for food.

I hunger for everything I can take from him.

I hunger for revenge.

I don’t know how much more I can steal. Gillespie is bigger than me, stronger than me—or he was. His body bows as I tighten my grip on his arm. The leather doesn’t stop me. Why would it? It’s a part of me. I

made it that way.

Time seems to stop. Riley doesn’t exist.

Only the Shadow.

Shadow… my Shadow Man.

Nine.

I almost forgot. So wrapped up in making Gillespie pay, I almost forgot my whole reason for being here in the first place. Nine… I have to save Nine.

With my free hand, I slip my fingers under his shirt, grasping the leather twined around his neck. I yank it upward, lifting it over his head.

With the other one, I finally shove him away. I’m buzzing. I feel fucking powerful. One quick shove and Gillespie goes flying, his back slamming into his desk before he crumples in a heap.

I’m not touching him anymore. Good chance he busted the crap out of his back when he smashed into the hard wood, but he’s a halfling like me. The touch is the only thing that matters—and I’m not touching him anymore.

The spell is broken. His paralysis? Gone. His immediate reaction is to let loose an angry, primal scream while he struggles to climb out of the wreckage of his desk.

I don’t think he meant to do it. If he was thinking clearly—if he had realized that he’s already let me out of the salt and iron circle—he wouldn’t have done that. Because I learned something when he first trapped me in his hidden room.

When the door is closed, my prison is soundproofed. But when the door is open… the good doctor’s office isn’t.

Seconds. If I’m lucky, I only have seconds. Thanks to the power I stole from Gillespie, I reach out with my senses, pulling the shadows toward me easily. Avoiding the desk, I launch myself in the corner opposite the door. With my body crammed against the wall, my shadows melt into the ones that were already there.

I’m as good as invisible—at least, I hope so.

I can hear the slapping of non-slip shoes outside the office door. It’s not just one person, either. His scream must have caught the attention of every staff member working on this floor.

It certainly seems that way when the door suddenly flies open.