I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to Asa. I wasn’t sure he had anything good to say to me.
“I would like to give you something.” He withdrew his hand from his pocket. “Will you accept it?”
“It depends,” I hedged, attempting to get a better look at what he held. “What is it?”
“A bracelet.” He held it up for me to see. “I made it while you were sleeping.”
A narrow black strip dangled from his fingers that reminded me of a braided friendship bracelet. I bet he knitted it, given its detail, but the material was peculiar.
“Okay.” I offered him my wrist. “Thank you.”
The silky material wrapped three times before he tied it off with an intricate knot.
His warm fingers lingered on my skin. “Can you make me a promise?”
“It depends,” I repeated myself. “What is it?”
“Wear this until we see one another again.”
That could be yearsalmost popped out of my mouth, but I bit down on the words.
Back on the director’s radar, I would be lucky to go another month before he pinged me again.
“I’ll wear it for six months.” That seemed safe enough. “Deal?”
Challenge gleamed in his eyes. “Deal.”
He drew me against him, his grip on my wrist like iron, and embraced me as if this were goodbye forever instead of a few weeks or months. He rested his chin on top of my head, and his chest expanded against mine as he breathed me in. I couldn’t help it if my arms snaked around him too. I mean, it was rude not to return hugs, right? I was doing the socially correct thing here.
The scent of him filled my head, and I admired the sleek lines of his muscular back with my fingertips.
“I should go,” he breathed, but he didn’t budge. “Clay is waiting.”
“You should go,” I agreed, but I didn’t budge either. “Clay has set a timer on his phone by now.”
An obnoxious series of honks guaranteed to bring a hungover Mrs. Gleason running made me wince and step back.
“I have a question,” I started before I lost my nerve. “What did it mean? You stealing my food?”
For all the concessions I made for him, he could tell me that much.
“Daemons sense potential mates through their saliva.” He started toward the door. “We’re a match.”
“A match?”
“We’re biologically compatible,” he explained, attempting to put me at ease or scare me spitless. One of those. “It’s not a fated-mate connection like wargs share. It’s not set in stone or foretold in the stars. We call the deliberation process fascination.”
“It’s biology?” I touched the bracelet. “Okay.” I rubbed my wrist. “I understand nature happens.”
“And, Rue?” He lingered on the threshold. “When you started playing the game, as a she-daemon would, one who wanted to confirm our compatibility for herself, you granted me permission.”
“To do what?”
“To find you…fascinating.”
All of a sudden, the bracelet made my wrist itch, but try as I might, I couldn’t budge it for love or money.
“You just said…” The blood drained from my cheeks. “Asa, I am not fascinating. At all. Not even a little.”