Chapter 6

Quentin wrappedthe towel around himself as if it was armor. There was no way he could make it to the bathroom door and escape the hotel room before Kaine grabbed him. Nor did he want to run along the ice-cold street, wearing only a damp towel. No doubt Kaine could have him arrested for public indecency.

Shit, Kaine could have him arrested and make up a charge, and no one would doubt it.

He had seemed so normal, so nice. So hot.

Been hot to touch, even in the shower. Is that why he’d thought of flames?

“This isn’t the Middle Ages, and I’m not a witch.” But he didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.

“That’s a lie—and not a lie of omission, either.” Kaine dried himself as if this was a normal conversation to have after sex.

“I’m not a witch. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but you are freaking me out, so I’m going to dress and leave.”

“No, you aren’t going anywhere.” Kaine’s voice was firm.

“You can’t keep me here… Can you?” From the way Kaine looked at him, Quentin knew he could. “Oh shit, are you going to kill me?”

Kaine gave him a look as if he’d just said something more idiotic than witches. “I’m not going to harm you, but we now have a problem.”

Yeah, you’ve snapped, and I want to run away, but I’m a hostage. Aren’t I? What the hell is going on?He tried to sound calmer when he spoke. “And what is the problem you think we have?”

Because Quentin was pretty sure Kaine’s idea of the problem was very different to his. He could see Kaine’s thoughts churning in his dark eyes as he debated what to tell him. And for a moment, it was all too easy to imagine what Kaine was thinking. What did his psychiatrist call it? Making up stories? Projecting?

It was impossible to know what other people were thinking. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Had he taken his tablet this morning?

Kaine pressed his lips together. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about witches and magic and shifters?”

“They exist in fairytales and myth.” He knew before he had finished the sentence that was the wrong answer, but he didn’t know what the right answer was.

“This is more fucked than I thought.” Kaine pressed his lips together and peered at him as if he were a puzzle to solve.

“It’s far less fucked than I expected to be,” Quentin grumbled.

Kaine laughed…at him, or at what he said? “It was enough.”

“Enough for what? You need to tell me something because I am lost.”

Kaine stepped closer. “Your magic must be something so small that you didn’t notice you were using it. So not an elemental kind. Probably not psychometric either. Do you have an affinity with animals or plants?”

Quentin shook his head. He didn’t have magic. “No, I don’t have any magic. You do realize this conversation isn’t normal.”

“What other not-normal conversations have you had?” Kaine walked around him as if trying to find the defect. “What weird things have happened to you? Particularly over the age of fifteen?”

“You mean, aside from my parents’ divorce, moving countries, and getting an ADHD diagnosis?” He turned as he spoke, keeping Kaine in front of him. But Kaine was studying him, not trying to touch him or hurt him. He had that crease between his eyebrows as if he needed to figure something out.

Kaine tilted his head. “And what happened that they said you had ADHD?”

“The usual.”

“Humor me.”

“I couldn’t concentrate, I was always distracted, and I was anxious because…” He couldn’t say it because it sounded stupid.

“Because?”

“Because I kept imagining what everybody was thinking. It got so bad I wasn’t getting my schoolwork done.”

Kaine stepped back and stroked his jaw. He nodded as if pleased. “You’re a mind reader. And because no one in your family had magic, they didn’t recognize it in you, so you were treated as if you were human.”

“I’ve had plenty of tests done, and I can assure you I am human.”

“No, Quentin, you aren’t. If you were human, we would not be fated mates.” He raked his fingers through his hair, which then settled perfectly as if he was some kind of model. “You know why you thought of fire? Why you are imagining all the things that I am thinking? Except you aren’t imagining. You are reading my thoughts. I suspect the medication suppressed your magic, which is why I didn’t sense it, and you don’t know what you’re doing.” He dropped the towel.

Quentin felt a rush of heat move over his skin, as if he was sunburnt or his entire body was blushing—even though he wasn’t. Then flames appeared on Kaine’s skin.

That was impossible.

But it was right in front of him. He stepped closer, unable to resist, and held out his hand. If Kaine had been hot to touch before, now he was untouchable.

“What is going on? And don’t tell me that we’re fated mates again because that tells me nothing.”

With a flick of his hands, the flames disappeared, but he didn’t bother to pick up the towel. “I’m going to have a drink, and then I will explain, and you’re just going to have to trust me. I know you don’t want to, because I can now read your mind.”

“You can what now?” He did not want another person in his head. It was too much of a mess for a start, and secondly, those thoughts were private.

“We share magic now, and our lives, so you’re going to sit on the end of the bed, and you’re going to have a drink, and we’re going to talk about this because this is far more fucked up than you can imagine.”

“Unlikely, I was always told I had an overactive imagination.”

Kaine snorted and walked out of the bathroom. “I bet, witch.”

“You say that like an insult.” Quentin followed him.

“No, you are taking it as an insult. I am stating a fact. In much the same way, I am a shifter. Please tell me I don’t need to explain what that is.”

Quentin shook his head. “Are you a dragon shifter? Is that why there was fire?”

“Rarer. But I’m not going to tell you what I am because that doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“It makes no difference to you.”

“It does if I burst into flames.”

Kaine opened the bar fridge and pulled out a couple of ice cubes. He turned two glasses right side up and then opened the small bottle of whiskey and poured about three shots into each before handing him a glass. “Sit.”

If he sat, he was going to be at dick height, and there was nothing more distracting than sitting in front of a naked man. “Could you maybe put some pants on?”

He didn’t want a trip and end up sucking his cock again, as it seemed like an easy mistake to make.

Kaine smiled, then brought the glass to his lips as if to hide it.

“Did you hear that thought?” Quentin shook his head. “No way, that’s impossible.”

“The damage is done; it doesn’t matter if you suck my dick again.”

Quentin stared at him.

“But I will put a robe on so you can concentrate on what I’m saying.” He put his glass on the desk and pulled a luxurious white fluffy robe out of the wardrobe and slipped it on.

Quentin wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not because he was still very naked underneath, and when he walked, it was entirely possible that he might catch a glimpse…

He needed to not look at him. He shouldn’t have looked at him in the bar. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. And his dick in his pants. But when he’d seen him writing in that forgotten alphabet, he hadn’t been able to help himself.

Kaine rested his hip against the desk. He took another drink as he stared at Quentin. The heat was still there, but it was banked. And it wasn’t the disappointed look he got from his father or the barely there glance he got from his mother. It was something else, as though he was actually trying to figure him out or understand him. His psychologist had just wanted him to tick the right boxes so the problem could be marked as solved.

Clearly, it wasn’t.

And the man was wrong.

Maybe.

If he believed all this magic stuff, and he wasn’t sure he did. He hadn’t eaten or drunk anything that Kaine had supplied, so this wasn’t some kind of hallucination.

He stared at the drink in his hand, then looked up. “Are you mind reading me?”

“Yes. As much as I can, anyway, because I don’t know where to begin. The witches I usually deal with can already use their magic. And I don’t know how well suppressed your magic is or what will happen if you stop taking your medication.”

Quentin took a drink, understanding why Kaine had been so generous with his pour. “Nothing good. Like I said, I can’t concentrate because…are you telling me the reason I couldn’t focus was because other people’s thoughts were intruding, and they weren’t my own creations?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t have your magic.”

“Apparently, you do.” He couldn’t keep the snap out of his voice, even though he shouldn’t be antagonizing Kaine. He took another drink, though he was sure drinking was a bad idea.

“I have a taste of it, that’s all, because we are mates.”

“You said we share magic and lives.” But not what kind of shifter you are? “What does that even mean?” You don’t trust me. Read that, Mr. Chief of Security.

Kaine gave him that smile again, which suggested he had read all of that. “It means that I experience a taste of your magic, and you gain a shifter’s ability to heal quickly, and sometimes there are other things. Mates can often communicate without words, though that can take time and effort to develop. Troublingly, if one dies, the other pines away. You can see why this might be a problem, given my position.”

Oh, shit. Taking a bullet for the king wasn’t so hypothetical if he was taking it by proxy.

And not only that… Don’t think of it. Don’t think of it.

“I’m going to ask about it, so you might as well tell me. Until you are used to shielding your thoughts, I am right there, and I will learn how to dig.”

Quentin swallowed. He was fucked. “I can’t tell anyone, or they’re going to kill my mother. So please…”

Kaine held up his hand. “You are the second person this month to have that problem, so I’m willing to bet it is the same people. In case you have forgotten, I’m the Chief of Security. Tell me where your mother is, and I can put a security detail on her.”

Quentin shook his head. “Then they’ll know. Besides, the Chief of Security in this country, which is hardly?—”

Kaine laughed. “Yes, this country is tiny and often forgotten about. Why do you think that is?”

The answer bloomed on his lips without thought. “Magic.” The country had been hidden away by magic. Oh my God, that made so much sense. “Is everyone here a witch?”

“No. But I have resources at my disposal.”

“You have a witch army? Shifter spies?”

“You need to tell me everything because right now you are the biggest fucking security breach in the kingdom, and if anyone found out, they wouldn’t hesitate to end you, to be rid of me, which would then put Prince Everest in danger, and I’m sure you don’t want to do that.”

“You mean the people who threatened my mother would kill me to get to you?”

Kaine leaned forward a little. “You would wish for death before they were done. I have been chasing these people for over a year. They are a danger to every single paranormal, witch and shifter alike.” He rocked back and downed the rest of his drink, but he didn’t put the glass down. “You need to review what you think you know about history through a different lens.”

Oh, he was definitely going to do that. Assuming he lived. “How did this mate thing happen?”

“It would’ve been the kiss in the lift. I didn’t notice it though until the hand job in the shower.”

“Because my magic is suppressed.”

Kaine shrugged. Quentin did not like it when he shrugged, as that meant he didn’t have the answers. And one of them needed to know the answers. “What I can do is have you seen by one of our psychologists. I have a witch and a shifter on staff. Obviously, you’ll need to see the witch.”

“Yes, of course, obviously. Can you hear yourself?” Quentin rubbed his temple. “What the fuck kind of trip am I having?”

“I wish it was a bad trip and that we would wake up in the morning hungover and with a renewed vow not to do drugs,” Kaine said as if he were serious.

A few glimmers of memories that weren’t his flitted through Quentin’s head. “You may have partaken in the party drug scene at uni, but I did not because I’m already on medication.”

Kaine drew in a breath. “I was miles away from home in France. No one was ever going to find out. No one will find out, correct?”

“Are you going to let me walk out of here to tell anyone?”

“Short answer, no. Long answer is also no, but it’s for your own protection, as well as mine until I catch these people.” He brought the glass halfway to his lips and then remembered it was empty before setting it on the desk. “You need to sort out your magic. We need to sort out this bond. I need to put security on your mother, and you need to tell me what the fuck they are making you do. Perhaps this is the piece of the puzzle. I’ve been missing that will let me stop them.”

“And if you don’t? Am I your prisoner forever?”

“If I don’t, we will all be fighting for our lives. If you thought the witch-hunts sounded bad four hundred years ago, I can guarantee they will be worse this time.”