Shadow (Touched by the Fae 2)

My breath is shaky, my head spinning, my heart racing. Despite the orange glow that washes over the inside of my eyelids, I crack my eyes open, peeking out through barely open slits. The flash is still there, but at least it’s contained now.

Blinking a couple of times, I get enough of my night vision back to see what it was that he made appear.

It’s… it’s a lantern. And Rys is using the same fire that burned my hands to fill it.

I choke on a gasp. My face goes hot, my chest tight, and I can feel the phantom pain of the burns that ruined my poor hands when he dared me to reach through the flames to save my sister.

I couldn’t save Madelaine, just like I can’t take my eyes off of the fire.

I’m mesmerized by the light and all I keep thinking of is how hot the flames are. I should know. My whole body shivers; the heat makes me see how cold I am. I haven’t lost the chill from the mausoleum and the sewer is even worse. My teeth start to chatter.

Still, I finally manage to say, ““Keep that away from me.”

“Why? Surely you’re not afraid of the light.”

“No,” I tell him honestly. “Just the flames.”

The answer pleases him. Rys shines nearly as bright as his fire.

He bows low, the ends of his long, tawny hair kissing the sewer floor as he bends. “I hope my gift serves you well.” He straightens, his lips a sly curve in his eerily perfect face. “Think of it as a reminder that, as reckless and as dangerous as fire can be, it’s nearly indispensable when embraced by something equally as strong.”

Huh?

I shake my head. “I don’t want it. Take it back.”

Just like that, just like I was afraid of, Rys’s good humor fades. A dark look shadows his expression, his brilliant shine suddenly dim. In that instant, I remember with a start just why I have good reason to be so afraid of this fae.

His voice changes, going from warm and flirty to absolutely icy. “Where I come from,” he says coldly, “it’s considered a slight to refuse such a generous gift.”

Crud.

“Please take it back.”

“No,” he pouts. “But because I am so generous, I will choose to look past your insult. And, as a token of my desire for you, I’m even willing to give you another gift.”

“That’s okay—”

“Zella.”

My mouth clamps shut.

Rys’s smile returns slowly. “Much better.”

He moves closer, walking toward me, almost dancing on the tips of his toes. I can’t do any

thing to get away from him. Once again, he says that strange Zella word and I’m too stunned to do anything but stand there like an idiot. I notice that he’s careful to avoid the pocket he pointed out, but he walks right through the shadows surrounding me as if they don’t bother him at all.

When only a few inches separate us, he raises his left hand so that it’s right in front of me, then folds his fist. He squeezes it tight, concentrating, and when he opens it back up again, there’s a small pile of golden glitter sitting in his palm.

I’m still frozen in place, but whether it’s from his compulsion or because I’m too terrified to move, I’m not sure. Either way, as Rys presses his lips together and lets out a breath of air that sends that glitter shooting straight at me, there’s not a single thing I can do to avoid it.

It hits me full in the face. Letting go of the ladder rung again, I try to wipe it off my cheeks, off my lips, out of my eyes, but it sinks right in. I try to blink it away. That doesn’t do anything, either.

Whatever it is that Rys blows at me, it’s powerful stuff. Within seconds, I’m already feeling drowsy. Dizzy, too.

Rys watches me closely as I drop down to my knees. The stone floor of the sewer is cold and damp and hard. A jolt of pain shoots through both legs as my knees hit the ground; between my throbbing ankle and the impact to my knees, I don’t think I’m moving anywhere for a minute.

Not that I could. I’m too weak to even pull myself back up to my feet.