Blazing Magic by Ingrid Seymour

Blazing Magic by Ingrid Seymour

Author:Ingrid Seymour [Seymour, Ingrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PenDreams
Published: 2017-02-06T23:00:00+00:00


“I’ve been thinking about how to keep you safe,” Faris said later over a huge stack of blueberry pancakes.

I blew on my coffee and looked around the Mom and Pop diner. “Mm-hmm.” I wasn’t paying attention to a word he was saying. Instead, I grappled with a fuzzy memory. “I think I’ve been here before.”

He poured the entire contents of the hot maple syrup jar on top of his breakfast. “Probably. Arthur used to like eating here.”

“Yeah, he liked pancakes, too.” A bit of sadness dampened my good mood as I struggled to home in on that thread of forgotten past.

Faris cleared his throat. “Eat your French Toast.” He pointed at my plate with his fork. I took a bite and raised my eyebrows in surprise. I chewed with a smile on my lips. The taste didn’t bring back the memory, but it sure was heavenly familiar and comforting.

“It occurred to me,” he continued the previous line of thought, “that I should meet all your friends.”

“Wait, what?”

“You know, to keep an eye on them and . . . you,” he said as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

“No. That’s not necessary.”

“Why not? If I get to know them, it would help spot Zet if he tries to supplant them. It makes sense.”

I cut my French toast into tiny squares. The knife screeched against the plate.

“Go easy on the poor plate,” he said with a smirk.

“It may make sense, but we’re not doing that.” I was emphatic.

He set his fork down, propped his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers over the steaming pancakes. “You still haven’t given me a reason.”

“I don’t know. Uh . . . it might be disruptive.” I grasped for a logical reason.

He seemed amused. “Disruptive?”

“Yeah, I don’t trust you not to . . . do mischief.”

A wholehearted laugh erupted from his mouth. “You make me sound like a two-year-old.”

“Well, you do enjoy throwing people off with your tricks.”

“And by people you mean you.” He was serious now, eyes full of suggestive meaning. I avoided his dark gaze, acutely aware of the heat on my cheeks. “I promise you, in all seriousness, that I’ll behave.”

“Your promises are worth nothing to me.” I felt smug. He couldn’t argue, not when he’d failed to keep his word several times already, not when I didn’t know what happened with Mom. “So no, you can’t meet my friends. They don’t need to know you’re there,” I finished.

He held my gaze for a few beats. His nostrils flared. “Very well,” he said curtly, turning his full attention back on breakfast, looking as if I’d just slapped him. “I will continue to make myself invisible.”

“Faris, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

“No need for apologies,” he snapped. “I often forget my place.” He put twenty dollars on the table and stood. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting outside.”

My appetite gone, I abandoned my meal and went to the restroom. When I went out, he was standing by the Bugatti next to a man on a Harley.



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