“Well that’s not going to hurt anyone,” Dorian teased.
Deciding my legs could do more damage than my fists; I raised my leg again and kicked out toward his chest. Releasing my hand, he quickly blocked the blow of my spiked boot. He tugged upwards, throwing me off balance. I landed with a hard thump on my butt, Dorian stood over me with a satisfied smile on his lips.
“You’re adorable when you pout.”
“I’m not pouting,” I snapped, getting to my feet. I wanted to smack the smug smile off his lips. Stalking towards him, I threw my right arm out and then my left. Dorian blocked each of my blows but that didn’t stop me. I kept coming at him, determined to land a hit. Dorian stepped back and I pushed forward. Punch, block, punch, block. It was a never-ending battle. His soft chuckles taunted me, driving me forward and making my anger skyrocket. Finally I decided to take my own advice—play dirty or die. I directed all of the magic flowing through my body to both of my hands. They lit up like I was holding two balls of bright, blue light. The hesitation in Dorian’s steps was the confidence booster I needed. Flinging my hands in front of me, I cast my magic out and towards Dorian’s chest. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would sting like a son of a bitch.
The magic smashed into his stomach, throwing him back a couple feet where he landed on his side. I was breathing so hard I had to concentrate on slowing the rapid intake of air. When Dorian didn’t move, didn’t pop up and make some sarcastic comment, fear replaced my exhaustion. I rushed towards him, falling on my knees to inspect his body. His chest still rose and fell with steady breath.
“Dorian?” I shook his shoulder. Fisting his jacket, I turned him over so that I could see his face. His sunglasses had flown off and his eyelids were closed. I leaned down to listen to his heartbeat. The calming thump of his heart echoed in his chest. Leaning back up, I shifted my eyes to his face and then to where I’d hit him. With nervous fingers I lifted his shirt up to reveal his taut stomach. There wasn’t a mark, not even a scratch from where my magic had blasted him.
“Dorian, wake up!” I tapped his cheek soft at first and then harder. His eyes flinched, a smile lifting his mouth up. Relief washed through me, and then anger. How dare he pretend to be knocked out. His little stunt had about given me a heart attack. I leaned back on my heels, ready to stand up and leave him lying in the field, when he reached out for my arm and I lost my balance. I fell on top of him, his arms encircling my waist and holding me prisoner.
“Let go,” I warned.
He snorted, that damned smile still holding strong. “I said no magic.”
“And I said there are no rules when it comes to fighting. Now that we’re caught up on the conversation, let me go.” I struggled against his body, trying to get my hands underneath me to lift myself up, but Dorian’s hold was unyielding. I was in an awkward position, half on top of him and half off. My legs weren’t any good because if I tried to use them to push myself up, my face planted into Dorian’s chest. I kept my face turned away from him; otherwise we’d be nose to nose. I could only imagine what I looked like. Luckily there weren’t any other witnesses to my shame.
“You can wiggle all you want,” Dorian said. “I’m rather enjoying it.” At that I stilled, my body going limp and melting against his. Now that I’d calmed down, I noticed the scent of his cologne—woodsy and clean. I wanted to inhale deep, take it into my lungs and store it in my memory, but that would have defeated the point I was trying to make. I was mad, reeling and frustrated beyond belief. But man, did he smell good, and the feel of his body just beneath mine threatened to penetrate my determination.
His fingers flexed on the small of my back. Frustrations gone, I was hyperaware of those hands and the path they were beginning to follow. I held my breath as they slid across the hollow of my back. My shirt had come up a little bit with my earlier struggle, and the warmth of Dorian’s fingers on my bare skin was making me forget why I was mad in the first place.
“Don’t you think we should talk about what happened in Massachusetts?” Dorian’s voice was low, smooth and raspy with his inner thoughts. Given what question he’d just asked, I could guess what he was thinking about.
I released the breath I’d been holding, unsure how to respond. We’d come so close to sealing the deal and now it was the constant elephant in the room. Dorian wanted to discuss it while I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to flirt and train with Dorian, not categorize our relationship. Those kinds of conversations always led to rules, intense emotions and heartbreak. Since my heart was already broken, I was a bit protective of it. Not that Dorian was looking to sweep me off my feet. He’d told me multiple times that he didn’t do the whole relationship thing. No, his motto was more of the ‘wham-bam, thank you ma’am’ variety than the hopeless romantic so many women are looking for. Though I doubted he ever told the women thank you. I smiled through my nerves, imagining Dorian devoted to one woman and mushy. It just didn’t fit the man.
“Can you please let me go?” I couldn’t have this conversation while in such an awkward position.
“Since you asked so nicely,” Dorian said with a smile in his voice. His arms fell away from my waist and I crawled backwards off him. Sitting crossed-legged, I picked a piece of grass and studied it. Dorian didn’t push; he laid beside me waiting and staring up at the night sky. A million excuses ran through my mind, none of them helpful. Like earlier tonight, this was yet another conversation that needed to be visited. I just hope it went as well as the one with Aiden.
“Massachusetts was…” I searched for the right word, something efficient enough to get my point across, but not too harsh. Dorian didn’t seem like the type to have his pride tested. And in truth I did like him, maybe a little more than I should. His kiss was imprinted in my mind. No matter how many times I told myself to forget about him, at least until my life was sorted out, my brain wouldn’t let go.
“Was…?” Dorian drawled the question out.
I looked up through the curtain of my black hair that’d fallen over my right eye. Dorian had his arms bent behind his head, his body stretched out along the ground. Though it was the middle of January the cold didn’t seem to affect him. He drove his motorcycle twelve months a year. I, on the other hand, was starting to shiver. We hadn’t gotten a lot of snow, but the temperature of the icy cold ground was soaking through my jeans and straight into my bones.
“It was great, considering,” I said.
“Considering?”
I so did not want to have this conversation. Discussing feelings and heartache to a man who didn’t feel those things was nearly impossible.
“I’d just broken up with Aiden. I know you’re an emotionless tough guy, but I’m not. Ending things with him crushed me.” Dorian grumbled and I frowned.
“Yet you kissed me, a lot.”
“I know,” I whispered. I knew his next question would be why. Why had I kissed him if I was pining for Aiden? To that I did not have a response, at least not one that would please him. I had two reasons: I was attracted to Dorian, plain and simple. And I thought by giving in to him for one night, it would erase Aiden from my mind. I couldn’t tell him that though. It was too cruel.
“You’re wrong you know,” Dorian said after a while. I looked over at him, studied the way his hair swayed as the winter breeze stirred it. His eyes were closed as if he were completely content to stay in the middle of the field all night. As for me, I was freezing my ass off. When I didn’t respond he peeked through one eye to look at me. Catching my stare, Dorian propped himself up on his elbows. We were locked in each other’s gazes. The gloominess of his eyes was difficult to see in the darkness, but I could tell the clouds were light, calm even.
“What am I wrong about?” I spoke soft, undecided to whether I wanted to hear his answer. Something told me that when it came to Dorian, I was wrong about a lot of things.
“I’m not emotionless,” he replied just as soft. “I care about you. I didn’t know why I placed myself in your path, not at first.” He took a deep breath and then settled back down on the ground. “I told myself it was because of what you are, and it was my job to direct you to do my bidding.”
I snorted and shook my head. The moonlight highlighted the slight upturn of Dorian’s lips. He was such a cocky bastard sometimes. Another tidbit I’d learned while in Moon was that Spirit Walkers use to be Death’s bounty hunters. They tracked down spirits and escorted them to the realm of the dead. Since my kind was quickly becoming extinct, Dorian was forced to work in the field too.
“But,” Dorian continued, interrupting my thoughts. “My interest in you has nothing to do with what you can do for me, at least not job wise.”
I yanked a handful of grass up and threw it at him. He chuckled, brushing the blades off his face.
“I’m trying to have an emotional moment here. Stop ruining it. It may be the last one you ever witness.” When I did not respond, he continued. “What I’m trying to say is that you’ve affected me in a way I never expected. For such a stubborn, smart mouthed woman you sure do know how to charm men.”
Okay, so he had some work to do where sweet-talking was concerned, but his compliment/insult still had the same affect. Emotions I tried to ignore bloomed within me, straining for attention. I tamped them back down but could not contain the smile that slipped onto my lips.
Chapter Three
The next morning I tried slipping out of the apartment before Dorian woke up. I tiptoed down the hallway as to not disturb his sleep. Making my way into the kitchen, I grabbed my coat and slipped it on, weaving a gray scarf around my neck. Last night had not offered a lot of sleep. My mind was too occupied with Dorian’s emotional spill and the thought of losing my magic forever. I’d come to depend on it much more than I realized, even though I didn’t use it 24/7. It was my security blanket, and like a small child I wanted to throw a tantrum that it’d be taken away.