Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)(6)
I saw both freeze, one directly in front of me, the other from the corner of my eye, dark eyes darting to Elder Merrick, whose dark head nodded once.
I huffed a harsh chuckle, grabbing my Coke from the table. “Surprise, gentlemen. You just entered the land of the unknown.” I waved my finger in a comically frightening way, making a fake scary sound. “Be wary. Or run now. Your choice.” I chuckled quietly, the tone utterly condescending, a self-inflicted noise, aimed solely toward myself before I took a large drink. Lowering my Coke, I moved my eyes back to Elder Jacobs, who was clearly trying to hide his surprise. “I believe I’ve answered your question, and with all due respect,” I nodded toward the door, “I believe the two of you were leaving.”
He cleared his throat, not moving. “I’ve only met one spirit Elemental before.” His gaze ran over my face again, an odd evaluation in his regard. “You’re nothing like him.”
My brows rose. “That’s like saying all fire Elementals are the same.” I tsked him. “All Mysticals are not created alike.”
“Clearly,” he murmured, and then raised slowly, his actions guarded.
I sighed heavily. “Oh, for the love of God, I am not going to hurt you.” I paused, blinking. “Well, unless you try to hurt me without the Law behind you, then all bets are off.” I scowled at him. “So, don’t look at me that way. You asked. I answered. I’m not a damn bug to be studied.” I waved a hand at him, drinking a sip of my Coke. “And besides, you’re much more powerful than me, so calm down.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m not frightened of you. I’m surprised and delighted. The man I knew was…” He shook his head slowly, gaze again running over my face. “Well, he was insane, for lack of a better description. And you, Ms. Farrow, are not.”
“Ah,” I stated softly, nodding once. “I understand.”
He set his water on an empty space on the coffee table, watching me closely. “I would actually love to ask—”
I held up a hand. “I’m fairly sure you know I can’t answer.”
He nodded once, jaw clenched. “Yes, but as you just stated, all Mysticals are not created alike.”
My lips twitched as I stretched my legs out in front of me, twirling my ankles a bit, both of them popping from their previously scrunched state. “Yes, so I did.” I stood, and started moving toward the door, even as Elder Jacobs peered to Elder Merrick. “But, where questions and spirits are concerned, there is no difference. We can’t answer.”
“That is so puzzling,” Elder Jacobs muttered, sounding confused and intrigued at the same time, eyes back to me. “Like a Mage, and their visions.”
I only smiled kindly, but my gaze darted to Elder Merrick, who had stood, and was moving round the recliner, back toward my bedroom. “Elder Merrick? What are you doing?”
“I need to use the restroom,” he murmured absently, opening the door to my bedroom, glancing inside, staring briefly before shutting the door and moving to the correct one, opening it. Sounding irritated, he muttered, “I haven’t pissed since this morning, stuck in a damn car with him, spying on you.” The door shut tight behind him.
Charming.
“Well,” Elder Jacobs cleared his throat, clasping his hands before him, rocking back and forth on his heels, “he’s usually much more amenable.” I chuckled quietly, placing a fist in front of my mouth, staring at him with amused eyes at his blatant lie. He shrugged his shoulder. “I did say usually.”
“Right,” I murmured, still chuckling until a few moments later I heard the toilet flush, and the bathroom door banged open after a few more moments.
“You’re out of hand soap,” he stated gruffly, navy blue, striking eyes flicked to my confused ones, knowing I had soap in there as he damn near stalked through my apartment. Brushing past us, he mumbled, “It was a pleasure, Ms. Farrow.” He opened my door, barking over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Elder Jacobs. I’m starving.” Then, he was marching out of my apartment.
Yes, charming.
Elder Jacobs cleared his throat, and then peered back me. “‘Usually’ is a loose term, of course.” His head tilted toward me, his gaze hardening in an instant. “And, Ms. Farrow, don’t think you’re off the hook by what you told us. What you are is no indication of who you are.” Yellow brows quirked, and he slowly straightened while I kept even eye contact with him. And he smiled. Gracefully. “It was a pleasure.”
I murmured the same, not meaning it any more than he did, and calmly shut and locked my door after he also left. Then, I turned on my heel and went to check the bathroom. I glanced about the sink, seeing the hand soap clearly where it should be, right in plain sight. My head cocked, eyebrows furrowing, as I glanced at the bottom of the bottle, noticing…a tiny yellow edge under it. Lifting the soap bottle, I saw a folded up piece of paper.
I blinked and picked it up, unfolding the precise edges until it unfolded to a small, creased, yellow sheet of paper. On it was a very messy scrawl of masculine handwriting, the note message itself very short. It read:
Our morning could have gone better. My shock is gone from my first “varied” lover. If you are interested in something casual and discreet, call me.
Shock widened my eyes, making me re-read the note three times making sure I was reading his handwriting correct, but it was desire, an allure for someone who I never would have imagined, that had my body warming.