Blaize and the Maven: The Energetics Book 1 (27 page)

***

Cuinn knocked at Blaize’s door. He’d told himself he wanted to check on her safety. That he needed to ensure that Fintan had briefed her properly. But what he really wanted to do was ask her exactly what her relationship with Fintan was. They’d seemed so … natural together. Without any of the antagonism that he and Blaize seemed to share.
 

He scowled just as she opened the door. She narrowed her eyes and made no attempt to invite him in. “Yes?”

“I came to check Fintan had filled you in on the plan.” He pushed past her and walked into the living room.
 

She turned, watching him, her arms folded. “Yes.”
 

“And you’re okay with being used as bait? Even though we can't be sure the prophecy I saw about you has been completed?” He swept a glance around the room as he waited for her answer. Blaize had only been here for a few weeks but she’d already put her mark on the house. The fire smouldered—he suspected given her fire energies it rarely went out.
 

A striking picture he’d never seen before hung on the wall, of a beach—but a beach very far from the usual tourist postcard version of a beach. In black and white, it showed an angry sea, where jagged lightning forked down from the sky to meet it.

A couple of her scarves were hung over the end of the sofa and the room smelled like her. Woodsmoke and … what was it? Whatever it was, it sent a tiny jolt of arousal through him, which he crushed. He’d been away for days, in tiring meetings and lost in books and research. He’d looked forward to seeing her. But when he’d arrived, he’d come through the door behind Fintan, whose easy intimacy with Blaize had inspired pangs of both envy and hatred.

Cuinn turned around to see Blaize standing in the doorway still watching him. He met her eyes and raised one eyebrow.

“I’m fine with it.” She shrugged.

He didn’t see what she had to be annoyed about. He was the injured party here. “We’ll start your training again tomorrow. But carefully. You can’t overdo it. Mind energy is just as exhausting as any other kind.”

“Good.” She was polite, but wary. The heat that he’d seen in the dreamscape had gone. But he knew it was there under the surface, smouldering like the fire in the grate.
 

Ah damn. She’s beautiful.

The night was hushed around them.
 

“I thought I’d examine the house’s wardings and protection. To make sure you’re safe.”

Blaize frowned, but shrugged again. “Sure. Better safe than sorry.”
 

Her body language was taut, her shoulders stiff, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest.
 

He walked through the tiny living room, checking that the back door in the kitchen was still locked, and taking a look round. He touched the wardings at the back door and windows. Each time he touched them with his energy, there was a flash of indigo. Satisfied, he came back into the living room. She hadn’t moved. “Shall I check upstairs?”

Again, the shrug. It was starting to annoy him now. He was feeling very out of his depth. He brushed past her, her scent becoming stronger the closer he got, and his arm skimmed her soft burgundy sweater as he walked towards the stairs.

After a few seconds, he heard her footsteps on the stairs behind him.

What was he doing? What did he want to happen? He had promised himself he would give her time, time to realise how good they were together, how right. And not just for sex—though that was out of this world—but for so much more than that. She’d bewitched him, and although he wanted more than almost anything to consummate that relationship in the physical world, he’d decided that nothing else would happen between them until the Rogue was stopped.

So what, exactly, did he think he was doing, climbing up her stairs with an excuse as flimsy as any schoolboy’s?

Blaize was confused. Well, not confused exactly. She knew what she wanted, and what she didn’t. She wanted hot sex with the gorgeous man climbing her stairs.
 

She did not want a relationship.

Unfortunately, his interest in the latter meant the former was probably a very bad idea. Not that you’d know he felt like that from the way he’d barged into her house. He’d been striding around her living room like he owned the place. Which she supposed he did.
But still. Rude much?

And yet here she was, following him as if drugged. Although, of course, she was drugged. Did mild healing energy count as behaviour-altering? Perhaps she could blame that for what was about to happen.

She stood in the doorway.
 

They looked at each other, less than a yard separating them physically, but it felt like miles.

“We need to talk,” he said. The scowl that had been on his face since she’d opened her door was still there. And something else. A dangerous edge she hadn’t seen in him before. She didn’t want to talk though. If he was interested in more discussion, then he could piss off back to the house. She just didn’t have the energy.

“Not tonight Cuinn. I’m too tired. And you don’t look so great yourself.”

She went to the tiny dressing table, turned her back to him, and took her jewellery off. She was killing time. If she ignored him, he might go away and take that tempting body with him. She felt a tug low down in her body when she thought of it.

“About what happened in the dreamscape,” he said.
 

He wasn’t going away then. She turned back to face him and found him closer than before. This time only inches separated them, his breath warm on her face. She went on the offensive. Perhaps she could annoy him into leaving. “A lot happened in the dreamscape, Cuinn. Including me almost getting killed.”

“One of the most frightening moments of my life.”

“It wasn’t great for me, either.” She put a hand on one hip, and raised her chin. But the angrier she got, the more he seemed to relax, the scowl melting away to leave a more thoughtful expression on his face.
 

He reached for her, and with nowhere to go, her back against the dressing table, she couldn’t dodge him without looking like a child. But he only took her hand in his.

“We’re connected now, Blaize.”

 
“I know.” His hand felt cool, dry, and comforting. She wasn’t sure whether to wrench hers away or to grab him with her other hand and pull him in tight.

“It’s more than just the Maven-Adherent connection.”

“Sexual attraction’s a powerful connection, true.” She refused to give an inch.

He moved a little closer.
Too close.
“It’s more than that, Blaize.”

His breath rifled through her hair. His scent was musky and male, and she felt light-headed.
To hell with it.
She’d made her intentions clear. If he wanted to pine for a relationship, that was his problem. And anger made for heat. And she was in her element in hot weather.

She licked her lips, and looked up at him. She slowly reached to put a hand on his hip. His hair, messy as always, cast shadows on his face in the dim evening light of the room, and his eyes, almost lost in darkness, fixed on hers. Her hand slipped around to his lower back and dipped to touch the skin underneath his black chinos. He took an audible breath. His hands went to her head, cradling it in his hands. She shivered as one of his hands cupped her neck and drew it towards him.

She was transfixed. Hypnotised. Her nerve endings were on fire with anticipation. His body lined itself up against hers. He leaned down towards her mouth, and she closed her eyes and tilted her face up, ready. It was going to be a wild ride.

He dropped a light kiss on her mouth … and then, nothing. She opened her eyes in confusion. He’d gone. She heard him call back up the stairs, “We will talk, Blaize.” The front door shut and the lock snicked behind him.

She was still in the same place minutes later after his footsteps had died away.

What the fuck?

***

The next morning Cuinn concentrated on work, despite the fact that all he really wanted to do was talk to her about their relationship. Because, despite what she seemed to think, they were going to have a relationship—if they weren’t already in one.

“We’re going to stay in the room today; we’re not going to dreamwalk,” he said. “I’ll put you in a light trance, and we’ll see what you can remember about the Rogue. Any information we can pick up is helpful at this point for dealing with the Rogue later. But we’ll go into your memories, and not into the dreamscape.”

She nodded, one professional to another. He was impressed that she didn’t seem to feel any fear for what they were about to try. It was unlikely to be easy.

“Just tell me what to do.” She sat on the floor opposite him, both once more on their own mats.

“Lie down and relax.” He kept his tone light and impersonal. He could do professional too. Though it had taken all the willpower he had to walk out on her last night. Right now he wanted to grab her, to shake and argue her into a relationship with him, but he kept those emotions locked down. She shot him a suspicious look, but followed his instructions, and lay back on the mat and closed her eyes.

Once she was relaxed, he said, “I’m going to ask you some questions. However those questions make you feel, remember I’m keeping you safe. Let any emotion wash over you without absorbing it. You don’t need to take it on. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Blaize murmured the words.

“Take yourself back to my Haven.” He brought her mind back to the moments before she went through the portal and the Rogue attacked. He drew a careful breath. This was delicate work. He couldn’t let any of his own fear or frustration show, because if she sensed it and became afraid herself, they could get nothing.

“You wait a minute or so, and then you step forward through the portal.” A breath. “What do you see?”

Fear flickered across her face, and she shook her head slightly. Her hair pooled about her shoulders, and blended into the red tones of her mat. Her eyes remained closed and there was a tightness that hadn’t been there before. But her voice was steady.

“I walk through and at first, there’s—nothingness. I know it’s only a breath between portals, so I take another step to get to my Haven. But as I lift my foot, I’m wrenched backwards. Strong arms are around me. I’m fighting them.” A shallower breath. “She’s a match for me here, where I don’t know what’s up and what’s down.”

“Remember, you’re safe here Blaize. Nothing can hurt you now.”

Blaize’s face was twisted though he wasn’t sure whether it was in distress or anger. It smoothed some with his words.
 

“Can you feel her energies?” He sat crossed-legged at her side and leaned in closer, his elbows on his knees and his chin propped in one hand.

“I’m not sure. Her arms are squeezing me. I’m bending over, trying to throw her off me. Bear hugs should be easy to get out of. But she has me with something more than just her arms. And she’s hot. Or at least, she’s the same temperature as me, which is hot in this vacuum.

“I turn in her grasp, and her fist comes up and hits me in the face. It hurts! I fall backwards. She kicks me. The pain feels greater than just a physical blow. Each kick or punch has an energetic resonance. It’s as if each time she touches me, I lose a little energy.”
 

Cuinn’s stomach twisted and he felt sick. He knew what the Rogue was. Something forbidden. Taboo.
 

Blaize came to the same conclusion and her eyes snapped open seconds later. “Oh, Source. She has the same energies as me, and she was feeding from me.” Her gaze as it met his held a storm of emotion behind it.

“She’s a Leech.”

Once Indigo had been bound to him as Maven and Adherent, a binding almost unbreakable, he’d introduced her to leeching. To help her be strong, he said. To live up to her full potential.

Her desire to please him had ensured that her initial shock at the forbidden practice had easily turned to curiosity. And then she’d experienced the almost sexual ecstasy of taking energy from another energetic. The fine line of pleasure-pain as you pulled energy not from the ether, but from another person.