Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Evelyn

BOWEN DOESN’T SAY ANOTHER WORD AS HE CARRIES ME around the perimeter of the village and back to the ship. Probably because he’s very much a man not overly in touch with his emotions and I’m doing my best not to weep over a murderous cat monster.

Bunny always said I was too soft when it came to furry friends.

Then again, she suffered from the same affliction. She constantly fed strays and nursed sick creatures back from the brink of death, and she never met a swan she didn’t want to talk shit to as if it were human.

She wouldn’t have faulted me for defending myself … except I wasn’t defending myself. I was defending Bowen. I could have run like he ordered me to. Truth be told, I had started to. It was only when I looked back and realized the cat could teleport to avoid his magic that I realized exactly how much trouble he was in.

The fool didn’t even have his sword, and it was absolutely my fault. He came out here to bring me back, to save me from myself. The fact that he didn’t bring a weapon with him speaks volumes … and it was going to get him killed fighting that beast.

If he died, Miles would take over the Crimson Hag, and that outcome is unacceptable. That’s the only reason I saved him. Yep. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t have that thought until just now. Totally checks out.

Bowen stops and I lift my head to see that we’re near the docks. Not close enough to be seen by the ship, but there’s no way he can carry me back without someone noticing. I clear my throat. “I’m good. You can put me down.”

“Evelyn.” His arms tighten around me, ever so briefly. “Thank you.”

My traitorous heart gives a little thump. Too much has happened in too short a time. From my thwarted escape attempt, to my ill-advised kiss, to the humiliation of coming from a little dry humping, to the attack by the giant cat.

“What was that thing?” I’ve never seen anything like it. We have big predators back home, and some of them are even paranormal in nature, but that was on another level entirely.

“Cat-sìth.” He frowns and shakes his head. “I have no idea how I know that. I’ve never seen one before.”

He sets me on my feet and I can’t help searching his expression. It’s bothered in a completely different way than I’m used to. I’m not the cause of that frown. “Just because you haven’t seen one doesn’t mean you don’t know what it is. I’ve never petted a lion but I can identify one on sight.”

His lips curve a little but his eyes are still distant. “I don’t … I’m nearly certain I’ve never heard that term before.” He shakes his head again. “It’s no matter. Ezra gave me a lot of lessons when I was an unruly teenager. It’s entirely possible it’s rattling around in my head from that time.”

I don’t know him well enough to press, even though I can tell he doesn’t actually believe that. “Maybe it’s your home realm and that’s why you know.”

Bowen’s expression shuts down. I didn’t realize how much he’s relaxed and opened up until it’s gone. “That’s not it. I have no past before the C?n Annwn. Stop trying to create a problem where there is none.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that no one pops into existence at thirteen, no matter what flavor of paranormal they are, and Bowen is clearly from the same source as humans. The C?n Annwn didn’t birth him.

But I’m tired.

The spell took a lot out of me. Every being with magic has a limited well inside them. It refills regularly, unless something wild happens, but you have to be careful not to drain it completely. I’ve never gotten close. I’m not close now, but I’ve used more than is comfortable. I need some food and a solid night of rest to recover.

Strategically, saving Bowen was a bad move; I could’ve used his distraction to escape and even now be putting miles between me and whoever comes hunting. But the thought never crossed my mind. I reacted on instinct, and at this point I think it’s well established my instincts are shit.

All this to say that I don’t have the time or energy to fight with him. It’s hard enough to stand here without weaving on my feet. “If you say so.”

He frowns at me. “Do you need a healer?”

“I’m fine.” With my luck, he’d use that opportunity to stick a tracking spell on me, and then I’d have to dismantle that before I could attempt to escape again.

And I will be attempting to escape again. Just … not right now.

“Evelyn.” He waits for me to look back at him before he continues. “As soon as the weather clears, we’ll be heading out. It’s important that you don’t do anything to delay that. People have been killed by the monster we’re hunting. We’re still not sure the exact type it is, but we are sure of that. It’s our job to ensure no one else dies.”

Just like we did with the cat-sìth.

The thought makes me sick to my stomach. “You know, I’m a liar and a cheat and a thief, but I’ve never murdered anything—or anyone—before. I’m not looking forward to changing that.”

“It’s not murder if it’s a monster.” He’s doing that thing again, the one where he opens up his mouth and someone else’s words come out.

I hold his gaze. “How do you know that? You just said you don’t know the shape of it, only that it’s killed people.”

He sighs. “Sometimes our orders don’t have all the necessary details. It’s just how it works. We are trained to adapt to whatever monster we might face. The Council trusts us to be able to handle it even if we don’t know the full parameters of what we’re walking into.”

“There you go again. Throwing around that word as if it actually means something. I suppose breaking your vow makes you a monster, then? Since you kill people who run.”

Bowen pauses, and sighs. “I understand what you’re saying, but it’s different. There’s no choice.”

“That’s the thing about life. It’s nothing but bad choices.” I’m soaked to the bone, exhausted, and more than a little heartbroken. I turn and start toward the ship. This whole thing was a mistake. Not just because Bowen caught me … and then gave me a particularly stellar orgasm.

Nothing but bad choices, indeed.

If I had escaped Lizzie’s house without jumping realms, there’s every chance that her family would have killed me. And not in a quick, painless way. Lizzie didn’t become who she is in a vacuum. She was formed that way by birth and a very long life of conditioning. I imagine her parents are even worse. The thought makes me shiver.

A warm weight settles over my shoulders. Bowen’s cloak. Even as I tell myself not to, I pull it closer and inhale deeply. His cedar scent settles something inside me just as much as the residual warmth inside the cloak does. I don’t know what to think about it, so I don’t think about it at all.

I trudge back to the ship. In the predawn darkness, it’s still and silent. There’s also no gangplank. Damn it. The thought barely crosses my mind when Bowen’s magic wraps around me and lifts me into the air. His grip wobbles a little before he steadies me. I glance down to find his expression strained. He used a lot of magic tonight, too. Even though he’s got to be just as exhausted as I am, he’s still going above and beyond to ensure I have an easier time getting aboard. It’s unnecessary and frivolous and … damn it, it warms my heart.

The rise up the side of the ship is slow going, nearly as slow as if I’d climbed it myself. It gives me too much time to think. With the delicate way he’s holding me, even in his exhaustion, there’s a part of my brain that can’t stop analyzing the possibilities. I was too scared out of my mind earlier to register exactly how sexy it is that he has this level of power. Of control.

I’m not scared right now.

Who needs bondage ropes when your partner can hold you down with their mind? Can lift you and move you and touch you without lifting a single finger?

No. Not going there.

Except I’ve already gone there, haven’t I? The lid is off that Pringles can and now I know exactly how good he tastes, how he holds me as if I’m the most precious thing in the world, how he growls when he’s about to lose it. A woman could get addicted to being touched like that, to affecting her partner that deeply with only a kiss and an embrace.

I have no illusions about how I look. I’m fat and sexy and I’ve had no shortage of partners over the years. But it’s always been a game, a push and pull for fun or dominance or, in Lizzie’s case, a perverse desire to unravel her epic control. I was never successful; even in the throes of orgasm, she was as cold as ice. It made me want her more.

Bowen isn’t like that. There’s no game here. He’s so devastatingly serious. I don’t know how to deal with it. I shouldn’t deal with it. No matter the attraction I feel for him, I’m leaving.

Yes, the C?n Annwn are scary, but so is Lizzie. I was already planning on spending the rest of my life dodging her. Tomato, tomahto.

Bowen sets me gently on the deck and physically climbs up instead of using his magic for himself. As I suspected, he looks like he’s weaving on his feet when he hauls himself aboard a few moments later. He shakes his head when I go to shrug off his cloak. “Keep it for now.”

It’s impossible not to notice how the rain plasters his white shirt to his broad chest. The fabric is practically transparent, clearly displaying every curve of muscle and scar. There are a lot of scars. It makes my heart pang strangely, but my heart has always been a fickle creature. Of course it would feel empathy for this man who is just as much monster as the cat-sìth.

“Thanks.” Without another word, I turn away and head belowdecks. Lucky is nowhere in evidence when I duck into our room. It’s just as well. I’m not in the mood to deal with their strange attitude.

I peel off my drenched clothes yet again and glare at them. That’s two botched escape attempts—one from Lizzie’s mansion and one from the Crimson Hag. Maybe the clothes are cursed. Next time I run, I’ll wear something else.

Granted, nothing fits quite right from the clothing I’ve been given, but that’s a battle for another day. There is magic that can bolster sewing and stitching, but I never bothered learning it because I’m downright garbage at both. As Bunny always said, Stick to what you’re good at.

My inhale sticks in my throat. Gods, what am I doing? This was my best opportunity to escape and I barely made it a few hundred yards. Bowen saw me coming a mile away. I never stood a chance.

How in the gods’ name am I going to get free? I’ve wiggled out of some sticky situations over the years, but this is by far the stickiest. There has to be a way …

I flop onto my bed and, with only the most fleeting feeling of guilt, pull Bowen’s cloak around me. I have no business finding comfort in the reminder of my captor, and yet here I am.

Sleep takes me between one breath and the next, exhaustion sucking me down into the depths.