Shades of Silver City by Miranda Joy

Author:Miranda Joy [Joy, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

PROHIBITION ON CULTIVATION OF GARDENS AND FLORAL GROWTH

SILVER EDICT #11

“IN ADHERENCE TO THE MANDATE OF PUBLIC SAFETY AND ENVIRONMENTAL PRESERVATION, THE CULTIVATION, PLANTING, OR NURTURING OF GARDENS AND FLORAL GROWTH WITHIN DESIGNATED URBAN ZONES IS HEREBY PROHIBITED…”

CHAPTER 19

ARCHER

Unlike Godric, I’ve never glamoured someone into killing themselves. But Gods above and below, when I saw the way Reed spoke to Tasia, I was close.

This woman deserves the world and more. How she ended up with a douche like Reed will never cease to baffle me. He royally screwed up by letting her go, but I’m damn happy he did.

Too bad I refuse to take advantage of her misplaced attraction. I refuse to be a rebound, someone she gets off with, then moves on from. I’m an all-or-nothing man, and I refuse to only have pieces of her.

One day, when I have her, it will be every ounce of her.

But I have to push that thought aside for now. Right now, I need to get her out of here. Once her ex is gone and my emotions are in check, we finish gathering up her things and head for the door.

Just as we exit the apartment, Stace grabs Tasia’s arm. I suppress a growl, stepping in close.

“It’s okay,” Tasia says with a sigh. She shakes her arm free. “What do you want, Stace?”

Their other roommate, the curly-haired girl with a permanent scowl, pops her head out of the door. Then she emerges and closes the door behind her, joining us in the stairwell and crossing her arms. She has what appears to be dried paint all over her shirt and arms—hues of green and blue. I sniff the air. Acrylic.

“No—eff this,” Tasia says, her voice hard. The absence of her usual swearing surprises me, and my brows rise. She might consider me a criminal, but I’m apparently influencing her positively. My chest swells with pride.

“It’s important,” Stace says. “Please?” She juts her lips out in a pout, and her blown-out pupils make the expression seem overexaggerated.

Tasia hesitates, glancing back and forth between her roommates.

The painter-girl sighs, uncrossing her arms. “I didn’t sleep with Reed,” she says, then narrows her dark eyes at me. “Can you go or something?”

After a few moments, Tasia jerks her chin toward me in what I interpret as a subtle “go on” movement.

I nod, shifting her duffle bag higher on my shoulder, but before I leave, I move toward Tasia’s roommates. Glancing at each of them in turn, I say, “You will not harm Tasia in any way. You will look out for her, always.”

The women go blank, blinking a few times before nodding in assent.

“Archer,” Tasia whispers, tugging my arm. “Stop being weird.” I pull back, giving her a wink.

I’ve been quite liberal with my use of glamour around Tasia. Not once have I made an effort to conceal my own abilities. In fact, she knows I can scent death before it happens. Yet she never asks questions, never acknowledges it. It’s sad that she’s stifled her own magic out of shame and fear, and it’s almost hurtful that she’s so willing to ignore mine.

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