by Sadie Jacks
I heard a yell. A couple seconds later, there was a pounding at my door the next morning.
“Give me a second.” I pulled my shirt over my head as I yelled through the closed door to my suite of rooms. Tugging my long hair out from under the shirt, I stomped to the door.
Yanking it open, I stared in shock at the mostly naked Ransom. From the ridged abs and bunched thighs, he looked good enough to eat. He also looked like he’d gained about thirty pounds of muscle since I saw him last night.
Narrowing my eyes, “Why are you in your underwear in the living room?”
He chuckled, the sound tugging at the feminine part of me. “I told you. I think something is happening to me.”
As I watched, he ran his hand over his abs. The muscles twitched and rippled with every lazy swipe of his hand. I had the almost overwhelming urge to trace my tongue in the wake of his hand.
I shook my head. Touching him the last time had almost killed me. I didn’t care how lickable his skin looked, or how good he smelled, I wasn’t getting that close to death again.
“Molesting yourself is new? I’d have thought you’d be an old hand at it by now.” I breezed by him into the living room.
If I wasn’t mistaken, it’d sounded like he choked a little bit. I smiled as I made my way to the couch. A fire blazed, warming the cool interior. The house still smelled a little bit, but it wasn’t trying to choke me this time around.
“Thanks again.” I nodded to the windows as I took a seat in the corner of the couch. Pulled the soft throw over my legs.
“Thanks for healing me.” He came around and sat at the far side of the couch, angling his body to face mine. He had a soft sweet smile on his face.
Where was the grouch who told me my rules were stupid?
His words finally filtered through my thoughts. Shit, shit, shit. I felt my shoulders bunch up around my ears. “About that…”
“What?” He looked confused. He scratched absently at his naked thigh.
I was mesmerized by the motion. The slight rasp of skin against skin. The flickering light of the fire turned his body to a golden paradise I wanted to wallow in. All of him seemed designed to dismantle my thoughts.
Under the blankets, I gripped my hands together, digging the nails of one hand into the other. The bite of pain got my thoughts back on track. I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure I healed you. Not completely.”
Ransom stopped scratching. His dark blue gaze drilled into mine. “What do you mean by that?”
My chest constricted. “Just what I said. Nothing worked the way it was supposed to. I didn’t enter the ritual correctly. It was all wrong.” I shook my head, my throat catching. Something else tickled my brain. “Not to mention, you have magic of your own.” I glared at him now.
He stared at me for a couple of minutes.
The silence I was accustomed to.
The naked man I was not.
Growing up under constant surveillance, strict rules, and being locked away in my own home and job made sure that I didn’t have experience with men. No intimate experience, anyway. The men who worked with me on the accounting floor certainly didn’t look like Ransom Kolefni.
Granted, I’d not seen them without their clothes on, but I had a fantastic imagination.
None of those men made my body both tight and strangely loose at the same time. Made my hands feel cool while my insides and belly burned.
“Kiema?”
I’d lost my damn focus again.
“For the love of Gaia, could you put some clothes on? Or at least cover up?” I shifted my gaze to over his head.
He chuckled again. “I’ve already grown out of the clothes I brought with me.”
“There are plenty of blankets around.” I waved a hand over the room. “And if you’ve grown out of all your clothes, why are you still wearing underwear?”
I held up a hand before he could answer. “Don’t. Don’t answer that one.” Heat rushed to my cheeks.
His silence had my gaze dropping to meet his. A heated look filled his eyes. It made me feel warm. Almost hot.
“Blanket. Now.” I shut my eyes. Cheeks as warm as the heat sliding through my lower belly, I knew when he got up as the couch cushions shifted slightly.
I peeked through my lashes as he walked away. The flex of his ass made me want to take a bite. Just a little one. Just enough to feel those muscles against my lips and tongue.
The low, almost inaudible moan surprised me. I’d never thought, never imagined, that a man could have this kind of impact on me. I needed to get through the ritual, call my contact, and get the hell away from Ransom.
I couldn’t afford to touch him.
And I definitely couldn’t survive his touching me.
“Is this better, princess?” he asked from across the room. The down comforter from his bed draped over his body like a toga from old school days.
A laugh trickled out of my mouth at the picture he made. “Sure is.”
He strutted to the couch like he was on a catwalk and dropped back into the far corner. “Now. Tell me what you meant about the healing not being complete.”
I narrowed my eyes at his bossy tone.
“Please,” he added softly.
I sighed. “Everything about it was wrong. I saw colors. That’s your magic. The colors were flashing and pulsing like some kind of rave party I see on the news. There was pain. I could actually see your pain. It felt like there was something else living and breathing inside of you.” Ice caressed my veins as I remembered the feeling of being watched. “I think it noticed me.” I shivered.
I looked at him. Instead of the heat that had burned in his gaze just moments ago, it now looked haunted. The dark blue of his eyes stark in his pale face. “Something is inside me.” He made it a statement instead of a question.
The fear was easy to hear—and understand. I hurried to explain. “It felt like that. Like I said, nothing about this ritual was normal. I didn’t have my safeguards in place. I hadn’t taken any precautions against the touching. I was wide open when I merged with you. I think something inside of you wanted to merge with me.” The last came out as a whisper.
A dark smile pulled at his mouth. “That’s Gaia’s honest truth.” He ran a hand over his face. Pushed it back through his hair.
My sex contracted at his admission. I didn’t know what to do with that. Thank the goddess we can’t actually touch each other.
“Let’s start at the beginning. You said you saw colors. And that that fact was abnormal. Implying that you normally see no color. Correct?”
I nodded. “I see gray. A sickly, pale gray.”
“The same shade of gray for every person you heal?”
“There are some minute differences depending on the type of ailment or illness, but yes.”
“What kind of colors did you see with me?”
“All of them. Neons, pastels, primaries, jewel tones, some I don’t have words for. When I see colors, that usually means you have magic of your own. You shouldn’t be sick. You also shouldn’t have made it past the pre-screen for Seeker applications. I don’t heal people who have magic.” I shook my head.
He was shaking his head, his expression closed down. He wasn’t going to believe me about the magic.
I swallowed, the sound loud in the quiet. “Then there was the throbbing black vein that seemed to be in every fiber of your being. Including your spirit. It felt like it was feeding off you.” That was the part that freaked me out more than anything else.
He looked confused. “But I feel great. I haven’t felt this good my entire life. I have muscle, I feel like I could run a mile in the blink of an eye. My head doesn’t hurt or throb. My body finally feels like what I’ve always wanted it to feel like. I’ve never…” He pinched his eyes closed. “Shit.”
I winced. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know.”
He grimaced and opened his eyes. “Let’s move on. You said something about safeguards and protections. What did y
ou mean by that?”
“I do a ritual before touching someone. It’s meant to ground my own spirit before trying to merge with someone else’s.”
“So you don’t normally throw up organs?”
I tipped my head to the side. “Organs?”
“You haven’t looked in the toilet where you chucked?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Why the hell would I do that?”
He laughed softly. “Good point. Come with me.” He rose from the couch, held his hand out for mine.
I wanted so badly to take his hand. My palm literally itched to wrap his hand in mine. To wrap myself in another person’s arms. But, just like the rest of my life, I was alone. He wouldn’t be there once he was completely healed. He had a life, plans for that life, that didn’t include me.
I needed to remember that.
I gave him a wistful smile and unfolded myself from the corner of the sofa. Wrapping the blanket tighter around my shoulders, I followed him to the hallway bathroom.
He stepped through the door first and flipped on the light. “I didn’t know if it was normal or not. In the case that it wasn’t, I wanted to make sure to keep it.”
“Keep what?” I asked from behind him.
He moved out of the way.
I looked down into the toilet bowl. An opaque crimson bubble bobbed softly in the water. “Gross.”
“That was my thought.”
“I don’t think I puked up any organs.” I ran my hands over my body. “I mean I feel normal. Other than smelling and seeing everything in high definition.”
“What does that mean?”
I turned to look at him. “From three feet away, I can see the pores on your face. The faint tracing of blood beneath your skin. The individual hairs of your eyebrows. And the stench in this room is about to make me chuck again.” I backed out of the room, hand over my mouth and nose.
He hurried after me. “What kind of magic do you have, Kiema?” It sounded as if he tripped a little while he followed me.
“Well, it was normal healing magic until I met you.” I glared at him as I sat next to an open window, face lifted into the breeze. “What kind of magic do you have, Ransom?”
Out of the corner of my eye, his blue eyes widened. “Me?” He laughed. “I don’t have any magic. You’re the only person I’ve met that has even an ounce.”
“Colors on the spirit plane mean you have magic—even if just a little. And besides, at least ten percent of the world has magic.” I rolled my eyes. There was no way I was the only magical person he’d ever met.
“My having magic is still up for debate. If I have it, I don’t know it. And yeah, there might be ten percent of the population with magic, but that doesn’t mean I know any of that ten percent.”
I sighed. I would bet all of my magic that Ransom had some of his own. Once again, my abnormality was shoved in my face.
I just wanted to be normal, damn it.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before. At least in terms of what your spirit looks like. Most people are dull and boring. You look like a glow party from the early nineties.”
Ransom sat there, his face intense. “So,” he flipped out a finger for each point, “you see color when you’re trying to heal me. You have heightened senses. I’m feeling better than I’ve ever felt in my life. And growing out of my clothes like they were bought two sizes too small. Am I missing anything?”
“Other than you having magic and me vomiting up weird bloody masses, nope. Think you covered it all.”
He smirked and flipped out two more fingers. “So what do we do now?”
“I want to eat. I’m freaking starving.” I pulled the blanket tighter around my body. I barely managed to keep the fact that I wanted to eat him to myself. I bit my lip to keep the words from escaping.
Where the hell had that thought come from? I know I’m touch starved, but this constant, nagging need was going to land me in deep shit. Shit that could kill me.
“I can help with that.” Ransom turned and went to the kitchen.
“You cook?” I rose and followed him. Settled myself on a chair at the island bar.
“Yup. I’m not gourmet, but I can keep myself fed.”
“Didn’t your parents have chefs and staff?”
Ransom’s shoulders tightened. “Yes. They did.” His voice sounded strained.
“But yet you cook?” I asked softly.
“I do.”
Something more there. But now’s not the time to go digging for it.
“Okay. What’s your best dish?”
His shoulders relaxed. “I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich. Got any tomato soup?”
I got up and went to the pantry. Please let there be tomato soup. I searched top to bottom, left to right. Boxes and jars, containers and packages. Not a single can of anything. Just as my hopes were dwindling, there it sat, almost tucked behind a box of crackers in a red box. A single lonely can of condensed tomato soup in red and white paper. My savior. I grabbed it, checked the use by date. Twisted my lips. “Does soup go bad?”
“How long we talking?” he asked without looking at me.
“A month?”
He shook his head, his dark blond hair glinting under the lights. “Works for me.”
I handed him the can. “Sounds perfect. Can I help?” Please say no, please say no. I really didn’t need a witness to my first attempt at cooking.
“Sit there and talk to me. It won’t take long.
Thank you, Gaia. I settled into my chair. “What do you want me to talk about?”
“You. If I have to bare my soul to you, I think a little quid pro quo is in order.”
I smiled. “That’s not how this works.”
Ransom shot me a smirk over his shoulder. “Indulge me.”
I snorted. “I bet you say that to all the ladies.” I sighed. “There’s not much to tell, to be honest. My life is more boring than watching molasses drip on a cold day.”
“I know that’s not true. Have any brothers or sisters?”
“I wish. No, just me.”
“Aunts, uncles, cousins?”
“No, again.”
“Huh. Okay. How did you become an accountant?”
“I’ve always been good with numbers. And it was the only thing my parents would still be able to oversee while keeping me away from my coworkers.”
He turned toward me. “You say some of the weirdest things. Care to explain?”
Should I tell him? Let him know that I had absolutely zero love for the two people who were my family? That they were my owners instead of my parents?
I swallowed. Never before, in any of the twenty-five rituals I’d conducted, had someone asked about my life. The rituals had been specifically about the Seeker. My life hadn’t been of any interest.
I was tempted; Gaia was I tempted. The loneliness of my life yawned before me. Stretching out in an endless loop of isolation and monotony. If I was going to abandon this life, might as well get started burning it to the ground. I settled my shoulders, lifted my chin.
“Except for coming here to the cabin, I’ve never been outside Feuer Tower.”
The skillet Ransom had been heating clattered to the stovetop. “Seriously?” He turned fully to face me.
“Seriously.”
“How is that even possible?”
“My parents are overprotective?” I shrugged. Now that I was on the brink of sharing my story, I wimped out.
“But you’re twenty-eight. You’re an adult.”
My laugh was dark. “No. I’m a commodity.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either. Not really. Put it this way: my parents learned I had magic when I was three. They had me tested and discovered I had a lot of magic in the healing realm. Since that discovery, I’ve been secreted away with tutors, magical and mundane. No part of my life has gone unsupervised.”
“But what about when you go to work? Surely they can’t watch you all the time there.”
The look of horrified shock on his face broke through my restraint. I gave another harsh laugh. “But yet it happens. I’m escorted to and from my apartment to my office. There, I’m locked in a glass office, open to everyone on three sides. I have one wall to my back. Even my office furniture is glass or see through.”
He stared at me, his mouth hanging open.
I shot him a grim smile. “To top it off, I’m locked in. In both my apartment and office. My office supervisor and my parents’ lackies have the codes. I’m supervised for bathroom breaks, lunch, everything. And it all happens in Feuer Tower—the building my parents own.”
The horror on Ransom’s face made me want to cry, and shout, and hide, and fling my arms wide, and spin in circles at the same time.
Finally.
Finally, someone understood what my life had been. Someone who didn’t owe allegiance to my parents.
Someone who saw me as a person. A human being.
Ransom spluttered. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything. I know how fucked up my life was…is.” Damn it. I still needed to be careful. Once I disappeared, I needed to do it without a trace. Leaving hints in Ransom’s mind wasn’t something I could afford.
I gave him a weak smile. “Want to know anything else?”
He shook his head.
“I’m going to go sit by the fire.”
He nodded, still saying nothing. Pity softened his face.
My smile hardened. I didn’t need anyone’s damned pity.
Chapter 15 – Ransom
I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. But the look on her face told me her story was true. Her parents were her slave owners. That explained her father’s remark about her only having the thoughts he gave her. And why her mother had dismissed her from the dinner.
They didn’t see her as real. Just a thing to parade in front of others. Make her perform tricks and then put her back in her cage when she finished.
I felt my blood start to heat. My fist clenched around the skillet handle. Those bastards. They pimped her out. For mind-boggling sums of money. Not a penny of which she saw. I would bet my own meager fortune. I’m just glad they don’t pimp her out for sex. I stopped that train of thought before it could go any further.
