Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(27)

“Okay,” he told her in a steady voice.

He watched her calmly as she took the stopper out and dipped her thin paintbrush in the liquid. Then, lightly, she began to stroke a rune onto his skin while she whispered the null spell that would sink into the pattern the silver made. Gawain remained calm and interested, which was not at all how Nikolas reacted.

Thank gods the spell was a technically simple one that she could cast in her sleep, because the nuclear warhead watching her work had an expression filled with such terrible promises of retribution if she did anything to hurt his friend, it was enough to give her nightmares for weeks.

Like she needed any more fodder for nightmares.

She was used to handling a certain amount of pressure, but still her fingers were shaking slightly by the time she finished. Once the spell had been solidly cast, she could feel the energy in the room ease down. Now only Nikolas still shone like a pillar of flame against her mind’s eye.

She looked up into Gawain’s eyes. “You good?”

He nodded. “I’m good. You have a light touch with your magic.”

Capping the vial, she murmured, “Why use a sledgehammer when a butterfly net will suffice?”

She most emphatically didn’t look to her left where the sledgehammer sat.

Either the sledgehammer was not aware it was being discussed, or it was not amused. It emitted a chilly silence while Gawain coughed into his hand again. Sophie could see a corner of his mouth turn up in brief amusement.

He said, “I can feel the spell lying on my skin, but it’s not irritating. It’s a little like a temporary tattoo, isn’t it?”

“In a way.”

“Where did you learn this skill?” He flattened his hand and tilted it back and forth. There was a faint shimmer where the rune lay against his skin. “Can you buy this liquid?”

“When I left home, I came across an old Native American woman in Nevada who showed me how to work with magic-sensitive silver. She taught me how to make the colloidal silver and cast spells with it. I’ve never heard of anybody else with the skill, and I’ve never seen magic-sensitive colloidal silver for sale.” She shook the vial before pocketing it. “I made this myself.”

“Fascinating.”

After giving Gawain a smile, she turned to look into Nikolas’s dark, cold eyes. “You have questions. I have questions. Since I just helped you and your friend eat supper together, I’ll go first. What is a puck?”

She braced herself for some sort of retaliation for all the snark she’d been feeding him, but he surprised her by giving her a straightforward answer.

“Some people call them lesser Fae, but they aren’t strictly Fae,” he said. “They are like sprites or brownies. In his normal state, Robin looks almost like a boy. He has an affinity with nature, he can shapeshift into a variety of forms, and he’s intensely magical. Usually.”

All three of them looked at Robin, sitting quietly in her lap. The puck seemed to be watching shadows move on the wall, appearing to pay no attention to them.

“My turn,” Nikolas said. The intensity in his expression sharpened. “Where were you a fortnight ago, and what were you doing?”

For some reason she felt a flush warm her cheeks as if she had been caught spying on him, when she had done no such thing. “I was in Los Angeles, where I’ve been living, and I was casting runes for a reading. I focused on my near future, threw the stones, and a vision of you appeared. You were holding a bloody sword, you saw me, and you threw something at me. I could feel it coming, and it didn’t feel good, so I scattered the stones and broke the connection. End of story.”

She paused. Both men were listening to her intently and watching every move she made. She had no doubt that they had highly developed truthsense and were using it. “My turn,” she said. “What were you doing two weeks ago? Why was your sword bloody? And why did you attack me?”

“I had just been attacked myself, and I thought you were part of the ambush. I was defending myself.” His eyes narrowed. “Were you a part of it?”

“No,” she said emphatically. “Absolutely not. I’m going to say this as clearly as possible so you can hear the truth in my voice. I have never met you before. I’ve never heard of either one of you before. I have no idea what you’re up to, or who you are fighting, and I did not have anything to do with what happened to you. In fact, I don’t know why my reading didn’t behave normally. You should never have been able to see me, and I wasn’t scrying—I was working divination. They’re two totally different magics.”

“Of course they are,” Gawain muttered, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“Then how did we collide like that?” Sophie asked. She was eager for some explanation, because she never wanted to have it happen again.

Ever since that morning two weeks ago, she hadn’t felt easy about casting the runes. She had still done it a few times anyway, but she was always on highest alert for any danger, and she had never felt that way before about her rune readings. They used to be a source of comfort and information, and she missed the familiar ease with which she had done them.

“There was other magic that day.” Nikolas leaned back and crossed his arms. The corner wall light threw part of his face into shadow while emphasizing the inhuman beauty in his bone structure. His black shirt fell open at the collar, revealing the strong, pure line of his throat. He regarded the puck narrowly. “Something else was in play. I’m still working to discover what. I thought it was part of the ambush too, but now I’m not so certain. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.”