Wicked Deal (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 2)

I scowled at him. “I’ll get control of my magic.”

“Good. Show me.”

I drew in a steadying breath and rested my hand on the table, feeling the rich cloth beneath my fingers. Visions of people sitting here flashed in my mind, but none of them were our guy.

“I don’t see him,” I said.

“Can you ask a specific question?”

“I can try, but it doesn’t always work.”

“Let me help.”

My gaze flicked up to his. “How?”

“May I touch your arm?”

“Um, yes?”

His fingertips rested lightly against my bare forearm, a simple touch, but I liked it—too much. Magic buzzed over my skin. His magic.

I shivered. “What are you doing?”

“Think of it as a transfer of power. I’m giving you some of my control. The connection will help you find your own.”

“Wow.” My head felt woozy. We were bound in some cosmic way, two stars spinning through space. I’d suspected we were linked, and this confirmed it.

There was more to it than just magic, though. I could feel his inherent goodness, somehow. It wasn’t strong or overwhelming—maybe it was even a product of my imagination—but I could feel it.

I looked up at him. “I sense the kindness in you. You’re not all bad.”

“You have no idea what I’ve done.” The shadows in his voice made me shiver. “The atrocities you imagine that Vlad the Impaler committed? Worse. Ten times worse.”

I swallowed hard and looked away.

“Focus,” he ordered.

I blinked, trying. Work was safer than he was.

Visions flashed through my mind, and I tried to hone in on one in particular, a woman with dark hair who’d sat here last.

“It’s working,” I said.

“Good. Focus on the feeling of control. On where your magic is coming from inside you. It will help you in the future.”

I nodded, doing as he said. “It’s easier this time, but our guy never sat at this table.”

“That’s fine.” He withdrew his hand, and I felt the strangest sense of loss. “We’ll approach the bar under the pretense of wanting to taste some local wines, and we can ask the bartender.”

“All right.” I stood, leaving my emptied champagne glass on the table. I hated to leave the rest of the bottle, but there was no way I could drink more and still take care of myself, even with this enchanted dress. “Let me use the facilities, and I’ll join you.”

He nodded.

I turned and strode toward the toilets, finding them without too much trouble. As I passed the men’s room, I trailed my hand along the wooden door. Had our guy touched it? I used my new control to focus on the faces, but there were too many, a jumble of images I couldn’t decipher.

I headed to the women’s room, determined to practice more. Another patron was standing at the sink when I entered. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, and she gasped.

“You!” she said, her accent light and unfamiliar.