Chapter Three: Eva

What the actual fricking frick? she thought, studiously avoiding eye contact with the handsome man.

It's him. He's…

She pushed the thoughts away, tried to rein in her emotions and the brief stirring of butterflies in her stomach, and tried her best to pay attention to what the professors wanted.

The creature she knew to be Morgryn, the Unseelie king, said, "If I may have your name, fair one."

"Eva Gallagher," she said. Not sure of the proper protocol, she chose to curtsy for the Unseelie. "I was told you were looking for someone able to mix and enchant potions."

"Indeed," Morgryn said. "Sadly, it's not an ability I possess, though I have a few others."

"You're being so much nicer to her than me!" the handsome man cried. Eva's gaze flickered to him and his broad body and intense green eyes. He seemed indignant.

"She's being far more polite than you were, so I offer her the same," Morgryn replied. "She's also not trying to transform and attack me like you were."

"To be fair," Eva supplied, "I can't actually transform."

"Oh…" Morgryn seemed to find the information fascinating. "So the magic skipped over you one way but blessed you in another. What an intriguing combination. You are the best potioneer in your class?"

"Well… I don't like to brag, but I'm pretty decent, yeah."

"Have you made any unique mixes?"

"Four," Eva replied, sounding slightly smug. "One of my potions is being considered for mass production, but they're waiting until I start my master's to patent it. It's an Animal Sense potion. The person who imbibes it has enhanced senses for around twenty-four hours."

Morgyn nodded thoughtfully. "Yes… that does sound like what I need. I need someone capable of creating unique mixes, of enchanting and breaking through to carve their own path because there are a few things I will require you to make here, in this study, while the fae magic weaves its way around us and penetrates your vials."

"That sounds very interesting," Eva said, feeling oddly excited and concerned all at once. "Is it dangerous?"

"Possibly. Isn't that what makes mixing fun?"

At this point, Professor Umber rubbed his face before saying, "We're still looking for others that meet your requirements. But we have Nathan, the fae-blooded charmer and sensor, and we have Eva, the potioneer. We just need to arrange suitable meeting times and ensure no one else accidentally wanders into this tower. The lock appears to be broken, by the way."

"I think I broke it," Nathan confessed. "I tried to turn the handle, and I heard something crack."

Morgryn examined Nathan's bulky stature. "It seems you do not know your own strength. But that is to be expected with an inelegant brute like you."

While Nathan continued to look indignant, Eva flushed as a brief heated memory flashed through her mind of a night she barely recalled, except for fragments.

The professors gently nudged Eva toward Morgryn, and he showed her a beautiful distillery set containing empty vials, vial holders, a Bunsen burner, and a cauldron. There were also some vials next to the cauldron, which seemed to be filled.

"Over the next few weeks, I'll be asking you to brew some specific potions, but I want you to add your own wild touch to each one. You see, these potions only work if you have that creative touch in your magic. I want you to be inspired, my dear, and dedicated to the potions."

He then scooped up a decrepit, mottled, leather-bound book and handed it to her. "Each potion is bookmarked, and the title is circled. Take some time to page through them tonight. Let their essence seep into your mind as you sleep. Tomorrow, I hope you will be filled with its energy."

"There's fae magic in that book," Nathan observed, taking a step forward.

"Indeed there is," Morgryn said. "But it only works for people of her magic. It's not for the likes of you."

Nathan scowled, and the professors looked like they wanted to drag him out of the room. However, now that Eva had the book, the meeting was over, and they were ushered out of the tower, leaving Morgryn in his small patch of the fae wilds. Through the inky darkness, they made their way through the strange corridor that transitioned them from one realm to another and out into the corridor with the four doors and the staircases leading down.

"That went better than expected," Professor Z'Hana observed. "We're lucky he didn't kill Nathan. I got the shock of my life when I saw he was encased in crystal. He'd put the boy into stasis."

"So that's why he didn't turn up." Professor Umber rubbed his chin. "Did you lose your way to my office, Nathan?"

"Oh no, I found it. I was a little early, so I went wandering."

"Hell of a wander," Professor Umber muttered. "Well, here's the key to South Dormitory 12. We've no one in there for the moment, so it's all yours until we've sorted out this whole sorry business."

"How long do you think it will take?" Nathan asked. "I'll need to inform my boss, so…"

"Let's say a month, maybe more. But we have the money; we'll pay." Professor Umber handed over the key, and Eva shivered again.

The professors clearly didn't want anyone lingering behind since they shoved Nathan and Eva ahead of them until they reached the known part of the academy again.

"Do not go up there," Z'Hana said. "I'll be arranging for a barrier so that no one does what you did. I didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to want to go all the way up there and then break through a door, but I underestimated people's curiosity. That's on me."

The professors left, but Eva lingered, taking her sweet time, and Nathan did the same. Each clearly wanted to talk to the other, but Eva didn't know what to say or where to begin. How exactly did you address a maybe stranger with, I think we've met before, and then slide to, remember that one night a year back? Yeah, I doubt you remember all your encounters. Neither do I; I just, you know, happened to recognize…

God, it sounded pathetic, even in her own mind. She wasn't obsessed or anything, far from it. However… since he hung back, it might be better to hear what he had to say first. Then, depending on that, she could formulate her response and hopefully not appear to be crazy.

He rested those curious green eyes upon her, and she felt a small pang of disappointment that she couldn't quite recall them. Everything was so dark back then, and her thoughts were blurred by drink and lust. It was a far cry from who she was today.

After a long, studious pause, he said, "I'll say it. I believe we've met before. Do you agree, or am I insane for mentioning this?"

"No, you're not insane," she said, her heart twitching in excited anticipation. "At the risk of getting ahead of myself, though, did you use to go to the bars near the academy?"

"I did." Those green eyes beamed more intensely, and her mouth went dry. She clenched her hands, trying to stop her fingers from trembling. She had a small natural tremor, but now it was more visible than ever.

"It's… uh… possible we may have met. If…" She closed her eyes. "Ugh, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I was a bit wild back then. It's a lifestyle I regret now, but I used to seek affection from a lot of different people. You might have been one of them."

That… didn't sound good to say out loud. It simply grouped him as one of many, and misogynist types might assume she was a slut; it wasn't like that.

He nodded and looked sympathetic rather than judgmental. "Don't worry. I've been around a bit, too. But there are only a few people I really care to remember. One of my fondest memories has to do with a redhead in the Gorserow bar. God, I don't remember anything else, though. She and I drank together; we drank too much. I don't know what, if anything, she recalls. I don't recall much myself. I just know that I want to meet her again someday."

Eva's heart raced as she heard his words, hardly daring to believe that he meant her. She wanted to ask but didn't want to ruin the hopeful fantasy blossoming in her mind that she was the redhead he spoke of.

It made sense. Red hair wasn't that common. It was an easy detail to remember, even if you forgot everything else. But she wasn't the only redhead on campus.

Still… she did want to explore this a little further. She said, "I, too, remember a person who was special. I don't know who they are, though. I don't think I even got a name."

They gazed into each other's eyes, amber to green, searching for answers and forming more questions.

"I didn't get a name either. She and I talked a lot, I think, but names never came up." He smiled at her then, and he looked kind. "I stopped going to bars much after I graduated. Something about it wasn't quite as thrilling as it used to be."

"Hey, I suppose someone like you must find it easy to charm others with your fae powers. What are your powers, anyway? I don't think I quite understand."

"I can explain more about it later… over a cup of coffee in Gorserow if you're up for that."

A shiver went down Eva's spine since she knew Harriet was planning to meet friends at the bar. They'd be very close. And if he were the same person… they'd be awfully close to the last place where they hooked up—in one of the upstairs bedrooms at a friend's house.

More memories came through: They were locked in a dark room. A man was sitting at the bar, looking bored. It was too dark to see his features, but his eyes were clearly of a lighter color. He smiled in her direction, and she moved, of her own volition, next to him and called for a drink.

That was all she remembered.

I'm sure it's him. The jawline…

However, knowing that he had a preternatural charm did throw all the events of that night into question. Had she truly been interested in him, or was it more of a glamour?

"I want to avoid the bar if possible," he said. "I know it's still student central, but I think I'm over the bar scene."

"Oh, me, too," Eva said with a bright smile, even though those words came layered with shame and regret. "I'm avoiding it like the plague at the moment." She still hadn't gotten over not being there for her brother in his time of need.

"Excellent. We can share more about our powers then if we're to be working together," Nathan said. "And get to know each other a little better." His voice dipped, and it sent a bolt of heat to her core. She inhaled sharply, not wanting to reveal the effect it had.

"I saw you were hesitant to work with an Unseelie fae," she said, diverting the subject away from dangerous waters.

"Well, yeah." The light in his eyes dimmed, and he scowled. "No one would voluntarily choose to work with the Unseelie. They're almost always out to trick you, to bend you to their will, to get more out of the deal than you ever would. The fae don't have the same morals as we do, but the Unseelie – they're as amoral and malevolent as they come. But whatever. Two professors want to work with it. It apparently wants to stop all the bullcrap going on with the other Unseelie."

"Hearing it was one of the ones who signed the original treaty of separation is a bonus point for me," Eva said. "I believe it's the same one my brother and his team freed."

"Your brother?"

"It's a long story. It may be best to talk about it over the coffee you promised." She smiled. "I'd like to freshen up first. Meet you in two hours, at 7?"

"I look forward to it."

She walked toward her dorm and had the distinct sensation that he was watching her the entire time. Only when she was completely out of sight did she breathe easy and realize she'd been holding her breath.

He really does have such a presence.

It infuriated her, in a way, to not know how much of it was because of her and how much was because of his magic. She suspected that the same frustration would be present in him, too.

After freshening up, she finally had time to look at the messages on her phone and realized a little belatedly that she probably should have asked for Nathan's number. Still, they were meeting in the same place, so it didn't matter that much, really.

Eva: Yo, Harriet. I may or may not have a date in Gorserow in like two hours.

Harriet: What? With whom? Are you coming to the bar after all?

Eva: Some guy named Nathan Griever, I think. I think that's his surname. And no, I'm not going to the bar. Sorry to disappoint…

Harriet: What?

Harriet: WHAT?

Harriet: NATHAN GRIEVER?

Eva: Yes…

Harriet: Bitch, that's my cousin!

Eva: You"re what now?

Harriet: COUSIN. Girl, what? He was coming to the school for a job offer. Did you meet him?

Eva: We're on the same job. They needed a potioneer, and they decided I was the best available. Professor Umber approached me earlier about it. I thought I'd done something bad, but it turns out it's some job.

Harriet: Are they paying you?

Eva: You know what?I'm going to ask if they will.

Harriet: Good. Don't let them treat you like a slave! But my cousin? Girl, you have to be careful with him.

Eva: Yeah, I'm aware of his fae powers. That's why they wanted to hire him. Don't worry, I'll be fine. He's been respectful so far.

Harriet: I am going to hurl abuse at him via text in a second so he doesn't do anything stupid with you.

Eva: Thanks.

Harriet: Just be careful. He's a regular Lothario. He's great if you just want something casual. But nothing else, okay?

Eva: Thanks. I'll be careful. Enjoy your night!

Harriet: Later.

Eva also answered her brother, just a short check-in to make sure he was okay and happy and to update him about the encounter with Morgryn, a name he would recognize.

Martin: Be careful with that one. I believe he genuinely wants to help, but I got a really unsettling vibe from him.

Eva: He saved your friend, right?

Martin: Yes, but he also left us high and dry instead of helping us. Remember we had to deal with a hydra when we were trying to get out? It"s not exactly a tea party or anything.

Eva: Ah… okay. You mentioned the hydra. I don't like him anymore.

Martin: That's wise.

She showered, freshened her breath, and ate something light before making her way toward her meeting.

---

The village at night looked lovely. Black iron street lamps illuminated the various pathways, giving the impression of a long bygone era and of the whole village being a little pocket to the past that had been preserved. It was the same aesthetic that people appreciated about Dreadmor Academy, and it wasn't an uncommon sight for students to pause and snap pictures of themselves positioned artfully under the lamps to share on social media.

Inside the Blue Rose coffee shop, the lights were bright. This particular shop remained open until late at night, entertaining some last coffee lovers with snacks and food, though it didn't have a license to serve alcohol.

There, in the soft orange light, Nathan waited, hands in his pockets, watching for her every time someone came through the door. When he spotted her, he perked up and waved, pointing to the counter where they'd order their drinks. She joined him there and opted instead for a fancy tea since, as much as she enjoyed coffee, she didn't much enjoy staying awake half the night when she had lessons early the next day.

After a pause, he ordered the same tea, which came in a glass kettle where all the herbs and distinct flavorings floated just below a filter.

They did like their fancy drinks in these kinds of places, and their name, Blue Rose, dictated what the décor would be.

"For a moment, I was worried you might not come," he said, sitting comfortably opposite her in a wicker chair, stretching out his long legs. He wrapped his hands neatly around his empty cup. "I may have panicked a bit when I realized I didn't have your number. That seems to be what women do who don't have an interest in meeting up later. But it's never fair to assume, so apologize."

"There's nothing to apologize for," she said. "I get it. Honestly, I just completely forgot to get your number, too. I was distracted by other things."

"Mmm." His smile seemed to increase in wattage, and Eva highly suspected that was the reason women turned to mush in his presence, unable to articulate a coherent sentence. His smile very nearly had that effect on her, but she resisted it.

Barely.

She began. "Okay, putting it bluntly, I'm about 90 percent certain we had a one-night stand, but I can't remember much because I was drunk out of my mind. Do you remember me or what?"

He nodded slowly, one eyebrow raised, forming wrinkles on his brow. "I, regrettably, was also pretty drunk. It wasn't a great evening for me… at first, I'll be honest."

"Oh? Tell me more." She poured some tea for herself, and they both watched the pale brown liquid trickle into the cup as the steam curled off it. Her mind was full of questions at this point, and something between them drew her closer to him, though it was more about body language.

"It may be a bit too much information, and it's not something I can explain in a sentence or two. You may get bored."

"I don't think I could be bored around you," she said sincerely and smiled smugly when he blushed.

"We'll see," he replied, smiling and pouring tea for himself into a fancy porcelain teacup festooned with blue roses. "While I can't remember some things about it, some other things are clear as daylight in my mind. I was close to graduation, close to wondering what kind of career I would have. For most of my life, I'd relied on my fae charm to breeze through conversations and connections. The boys and men around me were jealous of the power I had. They said I could click my fingers, and there'd be a woman. They'd laugh and ask me to save some for them. You know, that kind of thing."

"Yeah, I can imagine," she said, feeling a mild resentment for the type of men who enjoyed objectifying women and reducing them to side pieces rather than actual living, thinking beings. A small part of her worried he might be one of them since charm could mask a lot. However, he was prepared to tell his story, and she didn't want to judge him unfairly on superficial assets rather than the thoughts and feelings within.

"When I was younger, I didn't think anything much about it. I knew I had something everyone else wanted – and it gave me a big head; I was proud of it. So, yes, I used it. I went to parties in high school and I'd get girlfriends fast. I went through girlfriends fast. Guys would pat me on the back for it or shake their heads and be like, ‘Damn, again? He goes through them like a hot knife through butter,' or whatever they said about it. The thing is – and this was something I avoided thinking about for a long time – any connection made based on a supernatural ability – is not a real connection."

He rubbed his eyes as if whatever he remembered now was painful. She said nothing, waiting for him to continue – knowing at least from experience that if you waited patiently, the other person would break the silence.

"That was the real reason I went through so many girls. I didn't actually want to. But it felt like nothing more than, ‘Hey, look who I bagged.' I was objectifying the girls the same way the guys were, or the girls would wake up as if being released from a spell and go on their merry way, or their actual boyfriends, whom they'd cheated on with me – would find me and threaten me. It's not easy to threaten someone like me since I can transform into a bear."

"Yeah," she breathed, eyes trailing over his muscles while trying not to objectify him too much since he was clearly pouring out his heart to her but very much liking what she saw. He had a beautiful, strong frame you didn't want to mess with.

"It didn't stop some of them from trying. It's something about men. They see someone bigger than them snagging the women – and they want in on it. Sometimes, they tried to gang up on me. It was all about ego and jealousy. It was a good reminder that humans are just as animalistic as the bear within me, as much as they want to pretend otherwise."

He continued, now sipping his tea for the first time and nodding his head approvingly. "As you might imagine, by the time I came to Dreadmor Academy, I'd never had a single serious relationship. All my connections were brief and fleeting. All I really knew was that humans desired the hunt, to claim or be claimed, to beat me up out of envy. I enjoyed the hunt because it was all I knew, but it reached a point where… it wasn't enough anymore. Sorry, I know this is getting long. We can stop if you want."

"Don't stop," she said. "It's interesting. I'm happy you're sharing. Please continue."

His flush crept up his cheeks, and he rubbed his neck awkwardly. She grinned.

How adorable.

"If you insist," he said grandly, puffing up a bit.

She fought not to burst out laughing, imagining he looked like a peacock fanning its feathers.

"Now, where was I?"

"You said it was not enough anymore."

"Ah, yeah. It wasn't. The hunt, as it were, the result leaves you so empty afterward. There's nothing meaningful in it. All those people who talked about envying me. I don't think they ever really understood how lonely it was being put on a pedestal, being treated and perceived in this way, and not being able to form any genuine connections because I would never know if they liked me for me or if they were responding to my magic with some weird primal animal attraction. There was even someone I was interested in, and we spent the night together, and she said to my face that it was fun, but ‘Fuckboys will only ever be fuckboys.' So, yeah. That seemed to be who I was destined to be. That evening in the bar, those thoughts were hitting me hard. I was there to drink, to forget. My ‘friends' were there, but they didn't seem to care or notice."

Eva's memory flashed like lightning in her brain. She recalled a man slumped at the bar, slumped as if burdened, right before their encounter.

When Eva said nothing, Nathan took it as an invitation to tell the next part of his story. His voice grew rough from talking. "This woman caught me at possibly my worst moment. But she smiled and even asked how I was doing. We had drinks, then more drinks. I don't really remember everything we said – though, now that I look at you, your hair, your expression, I'm sure. It just feels right. I think it was you."

She held her breath at the just feels right comment, flattered, nervous, and intrigued. She simply nodded, not trusting herself to say anything at this point lest she break the strange but thrilling tension in the air. She feasted on the tension, feeling like she could inhale it and savor it, but she kept her expression perfectly neutral, not wanting to steer him away from his tale.

"I do recall we went to one of the rich student's houses since the bar wanted to kick us out, and I do remember… climbing stairs with great difficulty. I wish I remembered more about it, but I went to the bathroom and somehow made it back to my residence. How I got there, God knows. Then I woke up, feeling like something was missing, but it wasn't the same kind of absence as before. It was like… I'd missed an opportunity. It was more than the dull ache I usually got from all the other encounters."

He threw up his hands dramatically. "That's my sorry tale. Thank you for sitting through it and still looking mildly interested." His smile became sardonic.

"It's amazing to hear, really," she said. "I admit it's not something I can relate to that much. I just don't have that same experience. I don't have that magic, that pull, I guess, so I don't really question things as much. But I do understand the whole meaningless connection thing you mentioned. I've had one-night stands, and I've had the thrill of seeking temporary affection from people. And it just… stopped being great for me."

"When?" he asked softly, leaning toward her, bending his legs.

"Not so long after our encounter, though my motivation was more about how I felt like an absolute shit human being because my brother was in danger, and instead of being there for him or reading the messages he'd managed to send, I was blackout drunk and in no position to help anyone. He nearly died. If he had died, I'd never forgive myself. So, in the end, I decided enough was enough. I couldn't do it anymore. I had to stop going with my friends every time they wanted to go out. I had to stop allowing myself to be encouraged to drink more. I had to stop being a ‘yes' girl and become more accountable for my bullshit, I guess."

"How's that working out for you so far?" he asked, genuinely curious, eyes bright and warm. She'd never seen anyone with intense green eyes like that before.

It always seemed to be a shifter thing. While Eva sadly hadn't been blessed with the ability to turn into a tiger, she still retained the distinctive eye color that all shifters had. What was it with shifters? Sometimes, their eyes didn't match the eye color of the animal they turned into; sometimes, they did. Perhaps it was simply a marker of the magic within them, bleeding out of the iris.

Eva continued. "I'm doing well. I always worried that I might be tempted. Sometimes, though, I think about that guy, who I was so sure, deep within, made me feel something more than just brief pleasure. But my stupid, soupy, alcohol-soaked mind forgot almost everything."

He chuckled at that, and on impulse, he reached out his hand to clasp hers. They stared in surprise at the sudden contact. She made no effort to move her hand away, and he visibly relaxed and left it resting there as he said, "Perhaps we'll have the chance to do things the right way this time. That is, presuming nothing goes horribly wrong and we're not stabbed in the back by that Unseelie guy in the middle of whatever mission we've been sent on."

"Oh, yeah, that might happen," she agreed affably. "Maybe I should ask for hazard pay or something. Right now, it feels like I'm being used as free labor."

"You are," he said, "but if you raise your concerns, I bet they will pay you. But they won't bring it up and hope it doesn't occur to you. You have to advocate for yourself in situations like this. You'll never get anywhere in life if you let other people treat you like a doormat."

"True, true." She nodded importantly. "Now… I seem to recall that a part of this meeting was to focus on explaining our respective powers. I'll start since you've done a lot of talking so far," she said, smiling to let him know she wasn't being mean about it. Their hands remained clasped, and warmth flickered between them as they leaned toward each other.

"I'm from a tiger shifter family, but I'm unable to shapeshift," she told him candidly, finding she didn't feel quite as ashamed of it as she usually felt. "That lovely gene skipped me. My parents and brother are pretty great about it, but there are some things I'm automatically locked out of because they're impossible for me to do. But that's not what I wanted to talk about," she said, taking a deep breath to steady the unexpected assault of emotions that hit her and made her voice wobble. He reassuringly squeezed her hand.

"While I can't quite relate – I can imagine how it must feel if everyone in your family can change except you," he said. "All the bear shifters in my family are ridiculously proud of who they are and what they change into. They even do wrestling competitions and big bear fights and sometimes get some bystander to record them for their amusement. Apparently, there's big money in watching two meaty bears clash. Anyway, you were saying?"

She grinned. "Yeah. They're proud of it, for sure. Everyone loves being a part of something, I suppose. So, while I can't transform, I still have some enhanced senses, I think, at least compared to my human friends. The one thing I was blessed with, however, is this little spark of creation when it comes to potions. I don't really know how to describe it. I can follow the recipes that already exist, and I seem to get them right within the first few tries, a lot faster than the other people in my classes, though some of them also show a decent talent for potions. It clicks faster for me, I suppose. But… there's something in the magic I infuse into the tincture that seems to create the potential for new recipes, new potions, and new ideas.

"Professor Valgrur calls it the spark of creation and originality, so that's the only terminology I have for it at the moment. She encourages me to use as much essence as I want in the potions because there's a wonderful chance it may enhance the potion further or transform it into something different."

"It sounds like alchemy of the soul," he said, and she paused for a moment, delighting in that phrase.

"Oh! I like that. ‘Alchemy of the soul.' Yes, that makes sense. It makes me feel like one of those inventors, happily throwing themselves into their project and just seeing what comes out the other end. I enjoy it. I've come up with some variations on classic potions – and I've come up with four new ones. I'm going to use one of them for my master's thesis unless I can come up with something even better. Professor Valgrur is in the process of helping me get it patented. It's not a super-quick process, but she's confident it can be marketable at some point."

"That's cool!" he said, eyes wide, his smile clearly showing he admired her prowess. "You'll have something to sell, imagine that? You could become a really famous potioneer! What was it they want to patent?"

"Animal Sense," she said. "If a normal human were to drink it, they'd have massively enhanced sensory input. Professor Valgrur warned me it might be popular with people who enjoy sex as well as those in the military, normal people who want to experience life in high definition." She was proud of herself for not flushing as she spoke, but Nathan's expression became mischievous.

"Sex, eh? Why is that?"

"Well, since it enhances senses, it enhances touch as well, and this could, ah, create more, uh… powerful sensations." She coughed politely.

"Have you tried it on yourself?"

Oh damn! He asked!

Her mouth fell open for a second. "I'm not sure if I should answer that question…"

"Try it for science, of course."

"Ah yes, curiosity. Well, I can say, as the inventor of this little potion, I would be remiss if I didn't try it out on myself first, just to be sure it actually works. I wouldn't want to sell a defective product after all."

"Oh no, of course not. Someone has to take the hit for it, for science and discovery," he said, his smirk widening, his eyes glinting, almost glowing. "I would very much enjoy buying that potion."

"I do like to satisfy my customers," she said, smirking along with him. She still had a bottle of the potion by her bedside. A small, manic desire to rush to her dorm room, snatch it, and bring it back there flitted through her mind as well as… other things, distracting things.

She definitely felt heat stirring between her legs, blooming across her neck and cheeks, and decided she needed to ask about his magic now, just to be sure. "Now, I've shown you mine; you show me yours. What is it about your magic that makes you so desirable for this job?"

"My magic… hmm…" He seemed reluctant to pull away to talk. For a crazed second, she thought he wanted to close the distance between them and kiss her. Her eyes darted to his lips, then back to his eyes. She sucked in her bottom lip.

"Well. It seems I have a close relative who was likely a pure-blooded fae. It was my grandfather, whom we think charmed my grandmother. There's debate whether the magic strips away someone's will or if it just unlocks the animal lust within them, much the same way a drug can unleash chemicals in your brain. I am sure it's the latter. The people who are pulled to me… they want me, and they want me bad." He said it matter-of-factly and without arrogance. It was just a normal, inevitable aspect of his existence with the magic.

"The way you mentioned it before, it sounded more like a burden and a curse," she said. With that, they let go of each other's hands. Both knew they'd held hands for far too long, but neither cared. Also, the tea had grown cold in their cups. No one else in the little place seemed to exist except them, wrapped up in each other's stories and presence.

"Some of the people who end up with me reject me but are honest about feeling the attraction, which I admire. Others love the growing desire so much that they'll let it sweep them away. None, however, have that much will to want to stay with me, and that tells me more than anything that it's an active choice on their part. So… the magic seems to unlock the primal part of a person's brain like they're smelling powerful pheromones or breathing in a drug that opens their minds to me. The magic also allows people to relax in my presence and for me to make fast friends and get people to trust me before they start questioning it. I also seem to be able to sense when other people are glamoured or are trying to glamour – or have that fae presence as well."

He gulped down the rest of his tea, which was as stone cold as hers, which she also sampled. "In other words, I'm very good at sensing fae. I know when they're using their magic or if they've been enchanted. I know when a human has been enchanted. And I believe that the fae realm doesn't have a detrimental effect on me if I stay too long. For other people who don't have such a strong connection, I think it can do odd things to their minds and bodies."

She thought she felt the primal part of her brain unlocking itself. She didn't usually feel this confident, this bold. She liked it. Something was intoxicating about it. Maybe he was influencing her in this way, using the magic just as he described to reveal the hidden parts, to empower them. But she also knew, deep within, that she had this capability as well, that all it took was a little courage and the right company.

She suspected that if she allowed things to continue, she'd be very tempted to explore the limits of that sensory attraction to him. She would want to be entirely sober so she could remember every last second of it and run through it over and over again. Something within her melted as if suddenly exposed to warmth after a long stint in the cold.

Perhaps he suspected that, too, for something in his eyes twinkled, and his smirk grew more pronounced, more arrogant, almost. "The fae realm is a strange place, from my understanding. I haven't explored it in depth with my job yet, though, with this current job, I have a strong suspicion that everything is leading to that place. It'll be the biggest test of my magic yet. Perhaps it's the biggest test for you, too. Have you been able to read the potions book you were given yet?"

"Not yet. I… I was a little too focused on getting ready to come here. I really didn't want to miss out on it." She wondered if admitting this might seem too desperate, too eager. She didn't want to give that impression. She hoped it wouldn't come off as negative and push him away from her. And now, her mind was sweating, overthinking, and breaking the mood.

"I understand; don't worry," he said, smiling and patting her hand. She wondered if all her thoughts were obvious – if her face was broadcasting the thoughts and feelings roiling within. "I'm interested in what kind of potions are in there when you do look through it." He stared down at his empty cup, perhaps debating whether to pour himself more or think of something else entirely. The light caught his amber-brown hair, and she examined the shadows cast along his cheekbones, such symmetry.

He made a show of checking the time and said, "It's later than I thought."

The time startled her as well, jerking her out of the physical inspection.

"I… enjoyed this," he said. "We'll most likely be interacting more. And… if it's okay with you, I'd want to do things differently this time. I'd want to take you somewhere. I'd want to buy you a drink. I'd want… things to lead from there."

Her heart raced upon hearing those words, and again, her mouth went dry. She poured herself a little more tea, hoping it might calm her down. It was an effort to keep her hands steady and not be too obvious about her physical feelings.

Things to lead from there… Oh, it was so hard not to let her fantasies run wild. She took a deep breath, slowed her mind, and asked, "But…?"

The smile softened. "I'm no longer interested in doing things the way I used to. I think – at least, if I'm understanding correctly – you're also not interested in things being the same as before."

"I'm not," she said, not sure if what he might say next would be enlightening or disappointing. She kept her questions within, waiting with bated breath for his response.

"Good," he said, his voice low and throaty. "Let's try and do things normally. We're going to skip everything I just mentioned. We're going to exchange numbers. Actually, exchange numbers and not just forget about it a moment later like last time… and arrange for a proper date when we're both free and willing if you're up for it."

"Oh," she said, eyes wide, feeling as if a light had switched on in her brain. "Oh. Right. That is actually… genius?" Why the hell hadn't she thought of that before? Why hadn't something as basic and normal ever been at the forefront when it came to all her interactions with other people?

She had no clue and wanted to kick herself for it.

"You sound… surprised." He smiled and broke into a quick chuckle at her expression. "I take it that wasn't something you'd considered before."

"I really haven't. I feel so stupid right now," she admitted. "Of course, if I want things to change – I have to actually change the thing."

"That… yeah." He nodded solemnly. "Totally. We change the thing. I think it's clear there's interest here. But I'd rather not rush headlong into it. I want to… be sure this is an active choice we're making. Whether it becomes more serious or remains something casual, we'll see. But at least we can approach our lives differently. No more drunk nights out, no more hasty sessions in the dark. Here's my number, by the way." He showed his phone to her, and she added it to her contacts, sending him a quick hi as a message to confirm that the number was indeed entered correctly.

They soon made their way out of the little coffee place, both opting not to go to the pulsing lights of the Gorserow bar, where Harriet and everyone were living the high, alcohol-fueled life. They headed back to Dreadmor Academy since he'd been given temporary residence there, but neither, for all their daring talk and flirting earlier, did anything bolder than hug when they finally separated to go to their respective rooms.

Encased in her room, at last, she reflected on the day. What a strange, long day it had been. And yet, it still wasn't over.

Her hand reached for the Animal Sense potion bottled by her bedside on the little table that held a night light.

I shouldn't, she thought, even as she unbottled it and took just a few drops. I've been so careful with this.

Her mind kept reflecting on the strange shyness of their interaction. It would've been so easy to transform that hug into something else. It would've been easy to deny what he requested and sink into the old ways once more. A bolt of electricity hit between her legs even as she thought that. The promise of doing things in a new way, of something so shiny and brilliant as a notion – was impossible to keep bottled up.

She was already charged, already sensitive, already tormented. She wanted to lose herself in a fantasy for just a while longer, safe in the confines of her room, body dancing to the pluck of her own fingers.