The Challenge
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Owen steps in beside me, his hand on my arm. Despite my simmering dislike for him, his touch stirs up a pot of emotions inside my head—everything from nervousness to anger and others in-between.
"Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Really, it's been incredible. You're not answering the bigger question, though. Why Jemma? Why now?" Owen asks. "She's far from being a child. She's not nearly as innocent. That’s why you seek out the children. They're pure."
Balen throws out his arm, his fingers pointing in Owen's direction. "My family has given me plenty of time to consider things. I've had years to think about Jemma, to dream about her, to want her."
Gross.
Black veins raise against his skin, traveling down the length of his arm into his fingers. There's a crackling sound and the familiar smell of burnt timber as Balen's arm morphs into a tree branch. He whips it in Owen's direction. Owen ducks.
"You know you can't fight me. It's been how long since you had blood?" Owen asks.
Balen's eyes flare. "Too long. With Jemma by my side, I will find new sources. She will help me to become greater, stronger than I am."
Owen moves in behind me as he talks. "Yeah, that's the thing, Balen. I've already marked Jemma as my own."
Ew. That sounded even more gross. Like he's a dog or something. I'm about to say as much, but I clamp my lips shut.
Balen laughs. "You're an Augustine. You would never use such old, love magick. It is too, what is the word you use these days? Unethical?"
My heart lodges in my throat.
"Then maybe I'm not the type of Augustine you remember? You know how the spell works—if you take her from me without my releasing her, she'll die. I know you've felt your hold on her shatter." Owen slides his arm around me and a band of heat follows the trail.
Die? Did Owen really put some sort of weird spell on me? I resist putting distance between us. It doesn't matter if he's the biggest jerk on the planet, he’s my only shot at getting home. Once I'm there, I'll tell him where to shove his spell—
"You wouldn't want to lose her, would you?" Owen whips out that smirk again. The one that ticks me off.
Balen's entire face alters from casual interest to pure evil. His eyes glow red, black lines raise on his skin.
"Of course, we could always hold a test." Owen sounds as cocky as he looks.
"Go on." Balen's eyes calm and return to the blue I remember.
"I kiss her. You kiss her. We'll see who she responds to." Owen shrugs. "If it's me, you find another victim. If it's you, you can have her and you two can go off and have little saplings or whatever it is you have planned."
Balen raises his eyebrow. "A duel of romance? Intriguing."
Did Owen just bet my freedom on a kiss? I grit my teeth. What the hell? What the heck do these two jerks think they're doing?
"Whatever you want to call it. Either way. I'm winning," Owen says.
"Fair enough. I shall go first." Balen takes a step.
Owen's arm turns rigid. "No. I don't trust you." His voice is steady, but there's an undercurrent of steel threaded through it.
"It appears we have a standoff," Balen declares.. Waves of black veins cut across his skin.
Owen's eyes are fierce. Then I get it. Owen wants to be the first to kiss me. Well, I did promise to follow his lead.
"Look, what's the big deal? I hate this guy anyway." I jerk a finger toward Owen. "Just let me kiss him and get it over with."
Man, Owen had better have a plan because when we get out of this I am going to dislocate a part or all of his body.