When Damon was gone, Reg looked at Corvin uncertainly. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she released him from her hold. Her upbringing had trained her to run when there was trouble, and she prepared to do that. But before she could let go of him, she felt Corvin’s effort slacken, and he stopped fighting her. Reg released her hold and watched him warily, measuring the distance to the door. Unfortunately, he had a car and she didn’t. But she could get through narrow alleys and jump fences. There were ways to lose a car if she had enough lead time.
“What a little weasel,” Corvin said, shaking his head.
Reg still didn’t move. Around them, people were starting to talk again, still watching covertly. The baristas were popping up behind the counter.
“We should probably go,” Reg suggested.
“Shall we try for restaurant number three?”
“Please, no.”
Corvin chuckled. He lifted the table he had knocked down and put it back in place. He arranged the chairs around it. There was coffee all over the floor from their spilled drinks, but Reg’s and Corvin’s mugs had not broken. They probably saw a lot of rough handling throughout the day and they were very sturdy. Corvin went up to the counter and pulled several bills out of his wallet, handing them to the nearest employee.
“Sorry about that. And the mess.”
The employee took the money, nodding wordlessly. Corvin touched Reg lightly on the back, sending an electrical shock straight up her spine, and they walked out to his car. He silently opened and held her door for her and then got into the driver’s seat.
“Well,” he said eventually, when they had almost reached Reg’s house. “That was an eventful evening.”
“It was. I guess… I learned a lot.” She closed her eyes, thinking about Damon, who she was sure would not be knocking on her door again. And Corvin, who would now expect to be invited into the cottage, but she couldn’t take that risk. She’d done enough risky things for one evening and, while she had been able to hold Corvin back, she wasn’t sure how much longer her power would last. Then she wouldn’t be able to prevent him from charming her. “What a night.”
“I’m sorry it ended on such a sour note.” Corvin looked over at Reg, his expression sheepish. “I don’t generally… act that way. I know I have a temper, but I usually control it better.”
“You probably don’t usually have someone feeding images directly into your brain, either. What exactly did he show you?”
“Despite what he did, I should still have kept it under control. What is he? Just an untrained young pup trying out his powers and showing off for a girl. I’ve been around longer than his parents. You would think that my experience would give me some control.”
She had seen him so angry before. But not violent. When he fought the Witch Doctor, he had been powerful and focused, but not out of control. Reg held her hands together in her lap to stop them from vibrating. The whole thing had shaken her up far more than she would like to admit. She wanted to think that she was tough and unflappable, that she could deal with anything. But a physical threat still sent her into a tailspin, flashing back to the violence she had seen or experienced as a child.
Corvin pulled in front of Sarah’s house. He looked at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Watch an old movie before bed to relax. Have some tea.” Or some whiskey. That might help her to sleep better.
“I know that we’re not… an item, Regina… but I can’t help feeling possessive. Not just because you’re attractive and I like you, but also because of your gifts. I can’t help feeling like they should be mine. They were mine, once.”
“You held them for a little while, but they were not yours. You took them away from me. You didn’t own them and you still don’t.”
“I paid for them. I compensated you.”
“We had a nice evening. That’s all. That doesn’t mean I owe you anything, especially my powers. So get over it.”
He frowned deeply, but he didn’t try to argue the point. Maybe he was starting to come around.
Or maybe he was just tired from the fight.
“Can I walk you to your door?”
Reg took a deep breath and let it out. “No magic and you’re not coming inside.”
“Deal.”
She looked over at him, frowning, wondering whether she could trust anything he said. Not that she’d ever been able to. Eventually, she nodded. “Okay. You control yourself.”
He didn’t touch her as he escorted her down the sidewalk to the cottage, maybe sensing that she would object.
At the door, he hovered close, looking down at her, and she felt his warmth. That feeling of contentment and attraction that she felt whenever he walked into a room. She’d been able to ignore it most of the rest of the night, especially when violence had been threatened, but now that they were at her door, and it was dark, and she was coming down from the adrenaline rush, she was especially vulnerable.
“You should go home now,” she told him.
“I will. You sure you’ll be okay tonight?”
“You’re not coming in.”
“I’m sorry for the way things ended up. I shouldn’t have lost my temper so badly.”
“Yeah. It would have been nice if the two of you could have behaved like mature adults instead of children.”
She hadn’t seen him move any closer, yet she was sure he had. She could feel his breath on her and the cloying scent of roses was coming off his skin. “No. You said you wouldn’t use any magic.”
“I can’t help my body’s autonomic responses. I’m not doing anything to you.”
“You can control it. You’ve said so before.”
“Not everything. Some things… a man can’t help feeling…”
She pushed him back mentally. It was an effort, after the eventful evening. She tried to build a psychic wall around herself. She could barely find the strength. She tried harder, remembering the feeling of Harrison’s protective spell around her. Corvin pushed closer, almost pinning Reg to the door. She fumbled for the doorknob.
“Back off, Corvin. Give me some air.”
“Regina…”
She gave one final mental shove. He stepped back, but in a moment had recovered his balance and was back. He took the key from her and tried to fit it into the lock, then looked at it, holding it up in front of his face, frowning.
“What key is this? Where is your house key?” He handed it back.
Reg patted at her pockets, then shoved her hand into her purse and stirred it around, feeling for the ring of keys and listening for the tell-tale clink, keeping her eyes on him. Corvin pulled the purse from her and looked inside.
“What a rat’s nest. Here they are.” He fished the keys out and fit the house key to the doorknob lock. He pushed it open behind her. Reg stumbled in. It was a relief to get far enough away from him that his breath wasn’t right in her face. She felt behind her, moving like she was blind and had never seen the room before. She needed to get in far enough to close the door and then she could relax.
Corvin stepped through the doorway.
Reg gasped in shock. She took another step back. “I didn’t invite you in!”
He just smiled.
Reg swore, looking around, trying to figure out a way to defend herself. She didn’t carry a weapon or keep one in the cottage. She didn’t even have a pocketknife or broken bottle. But she did have a kitchen! Reg moved toward it, keeping her eyes on Corvin, keeping plenty of space between them. The room was already filling with the floral scent, getting more and more stifling. Reg fought back against her natural reaction, telling herself that it was a skunk. It was unpleasant. She didn’t want to smell it, and it didn’t make her feel good.
She wasn’t attracted to Corvin; she didn’t have to surrender to him.
“Calm down, Regina,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. Forget about all of that. You and I can be friends. We can sit down and have a chat. I want to make sure that you’re all right. You’re very pale. It wouldn’t be responsible for me to leave you here by yourself without making sure you are okay.”
Reg’s feet touched the tile of the kitchen. She was close. She darted a glance to the side to measure the distance to the knife drawer, the angle of access, planning in her head how she would move and which knife she would pull.
As much as she abhorred the violence of the evening, she would do whatever she had to to protect herself. She wasn’t going to give way to him this time. She was stronger. She had her replica of Harrison’s protection spell.
Harrison!
Reg thought of him there in the living room, sitting on the couch, his long legs out, Starlight in his lap. He had been there not twenty-four hours before. She should have asked him for his help in more practical matters. How to protect herself. How to cast simple spells. Instead of having metaphysical discussions about immortals.
“I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Corvin whirled around and looked at Harrison sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He had on his striped shirt this time, looking like a mime, an escaped prisoner, or the juggler at a circus. He smiled at Corvin and twisted the ends of his large mustache.
“What are you doing here?” Corvin demanded. “No one was here; we were alone.” Frustration had entered his voice. Reg couldn’t help smiling at Corvin’s tone of betrayal.
“Reg wanted me,” Harrison said with a shrug. “Something about a protective spell?”
“Yes,” Reg agreed. “I needed your help. I don’t know how to cast a spell. I’m not magical, just psychic.”
“Pish. You have powers. It doesn’t matter what you call them.”
They both looked at Corvin.
“It’s time for you to go,” Reg told him. “You don’t need to worry about taking care of me. I have someone here to keep me company now.”
Corvin’s face contorted with anger. He looked back and forth between them, looking for some way to still get what he wanted. He had been so close; having his prize snatched away right under his nose sent him into a paroxysm of fury.
“Why don’t you tell him to go?” he demanded, pointing at Harrison. “He is the one who used magic to get in here, who bypassed all of your wards and intruded on your privacy. He should be the one you are kicking out, not me.”
“I needed him because you wouldn’t listen to me. If you’d behaved yourself like you promised, I wouldn’t have needed him.”
His hands clenched into fists and he shook his head.
“This is unbelievable! I gave you a nice evening. I protected you from having to see what went down at the Port of Call. I defended your honor. And this is how you repay me? By treating me like a criminal? Implying that I did something wrong? I haven’t done anything to harm you.”
“You would still take my powers if you had half a chance. Admit it; you can’t even think about anything else right now. You want it so badly you can taste it.”
“Have I attacked you? You can’t accuse me of doing anything just because you can sense my emotions. A person can feel one way and still make a decision the other way.”
“Maybe so. But tonight you don’t have to be tempted anymore. We’re both tired. Maybe that’s made your willpower weaken. Just go home.”
He rubbed his face and chin. He did look fatigued. Maybe with everything that had happened, his hunger had gotten the better of him when it wouldn’t have otherwise. He hesitated, turning partway toward the door.
“This doesn’t mean anything. If coming in here to check on you was a mistake, it’s just one small mistake. I didn’t do anything to you. You know that. You don’t know what would have happened next.”
“I’m not going to make any decisions about you tonight,” Reg said. “Just let me sleep on it.”
Until the appearance of Damon, they had been having an enjoyable night. Corvin had behaved himself reasonably well and Reg had been able to resist him until she had gotten too tired. Maybe they could be friends, as long as neither of them got too tired or let their guard down. Corvin started to walk toward the door. Starlight darted out from under one of the wicker chairs and nipped at his calves. Corvin let out a shout and whirled around, trying to swipe at the cat or to kick him.
“That cat! If he’s going to attack me like that, he’s going to get hurt!”
“Poor Corvin,” Reg said in fake sympathy. “Being attacked by the nasty kitty! If you do anything to hurt Starlight, you can forget about us ever being friends. I mean it. I will never talk to you again.”
Corvin glared at Starlight, who had taken refuge behind the kitchen island. Starlight peered around the corner, the emotions emanating from him just as strong as the ones coming from Corvin. He was definitely not having warm fuzzy thoughts about the warlock.
Corvin scowled. He turned and stalked out without another word, slamming the door behind him.