Ghost Light

I’d waited so long for this moment.  Feared it like a bogeyman stalking the shadows.  But the fear was gone and all I wanted was to be closer to Ceff.  I lifted my hips and moaned.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Ceff’s voice was husky and his eyes were glowing bright green as he studied my face.  We’d agreed to be honest about our feelings and right now, I was an open book.

“Yes, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” I said.

I reached for Ceff with glowing fingers, drawing his body to my own.  This time he didn’t pull away.

* * *

Later that night, much later if the slant of light coming through my bedroom window was any indication, I rested my head on Ceff’s chest.  He stroked my cheek and I closed my eyes.  Shockwaves still rolled through me at his touch.

“Tired?” he asked.

“No,” I said, surprised.

I had been dead to the world when Ceff carried me up to my room, but now I was bursting with energy.  My skin continued to glow, giving off waves of heat.  I looked down and shifted the sheet half draped across my body.  I wasn’t tired, but the wound at my side had started to bleed through the gauze.  I was supposed to be resting, not doing mattress gymnastics.  When Kaye said to spend the week in bed, I’m pretty sure this wasn’t what she meant.

I sighed.  I needed to change the dressing if I wanted to avoid infection.

“I’m not tired, but I do need a shower,” I said.

Ceff lifted his hand and a string of water from a glass on the nightstand rose in a spiral ribbon to dance between his fingers.

“Would you like company?” he asked.

“Do pixies lick salt from your skin?” I asked.

Ceff lifted me into his arms and nuzzled my neck.

“Mmm, maybe I’m part pixie,” he said.

Ceff carried me to the bathroom and kicked the door shut.

Chapter 28

Steam rolled out into the loft as I opened the bathroom door.  My superheated skin and Ceff’s water magic had filled the tiny room with steam so thick I couldn’t see.  Not that sight was a necessary sense for what we’d been up to.

I stepped out into the apartment and blinked at my roommate leaning against the kitchen counter.  It must have been later than I thought if Jinx was out of bed.  Ceff and I were still holding hands, not yet ready to break the connection of our touch.  I was pretty sure that if we let go, I’d have to suffer through the visions when we touched again.

Jinx looked between us and shook her head.  I was wrapped in an old robe that showed too much leg and Ceff wore a towel low on his hips.  Jinx had dark circles around her eyes and held a mug of coffee to her lips.

“I want my prudish roommate back,” she said.  “She was much quieter and didn’t hog the shower.”

“Sorry,” I said.

We walked over to the breakfast nook and each perched on a stool facing Jinx.  When she slid two mugs of coffee across the counter, I shifted my bare foot toward Ceff’s, twining our legs together at the ankle.  There were a lot more ways to remain touching than just holding hands.

I flashed my friend a goofy grin and breathed in the scent of fresh coffee.  My grin faltered when Jinx turned her face and I realized the dark circles weren’t entirely from lack of sleep.  A large, purpling bruise rose along Jinx’s cheekbone.

That bruise hadn’t been there yesterday, which meant it wasn’t from the cemetery battle.  Jinx was clumsy and no stranger to bruises, but the bruise on her face looked suspiciously like the imprint of someone’s fist.  I cracked my knuckles and stared at Jinx.

“Are you alright?” I asked.  “What happened to your face?”

“This?” she asked.  “It’s nothing.  You should see the other guy.”

“A man did this to you?” Ceff asked.

His voice was low and threatened violence.  I could feel the anger vibrate through his body where we touched.  I clenched my jaw and reached for knives that weren’t there.  Ceff and I were in agreement.  If someone did this to Jinx, they were going to pay.

Jinx shrugged.

“I went to see Hans last night while you two were trying to bring the building down,” she said.  “Big mistake.”

Oh crap.  I’d forgotten to tell Jinx about Hans’ temper tantrum the night the clurichaun got her drunk.  So much had happened since then that the call had totally slipped my mind, but that was no excuse.

“I am so sorry,” I said.  “I mentioned you’d been drinking with a clurichaun.  I didn’t know he was anti-fae.”

“It’s alright,” she said.  “I didn’t know either.  I mean, I knew he was a Hunter.  But I didn’t realize he was such a racist douche.  When I said I’d just helped to save thirty-three fae kids, he smacked me in the face.”

“I’ll kill him,” I said.

I broke contact with Ceff, launched myself from the barstool, and ran toward my room.  This was no time for cuddling.  I needed my knives.  I looked down at the robe and bare legs and added clothes to the list.  Ceff, moving fae fast, was pulling on jeans and grabbing his trident.

Hans was going to pay.

“No, wait,” Jinx said.

She stood in the doorway and shook her head.