“Trust you? That’s what I did when I went to help the witches. They’ve treated me like I’m nothing for ten years, but I went to help them because I thought you needed me as part of the team. Instead, you sent me to hurt my own kind—and myself! I trusted that you had the guts to get over what I am. I know you’re attracted to me, but you treat me like I’m some awful, untrustworthy jerk when all I’ve ever done is help you. Gods, I panted after you like a bitch in heat, thinking you were something different, something better than all the other Mytheans who reject me based on what I am.” She surged out of her chair. In her rage, she was a tempest.
“Helping the witches is your damn job!” He ignored everything else she’d said, knowing that she was right, that he’d put his foot in his mouth too many times and been an arse. But he couldn’t deal with such personal issues right now in the face of Aurora’s release.
Her face twisted. “You know what? Forget it. And forget you. I don’t know why I ever thought it would be a good idea to work for the university. You’re a bunch of bigots and I’m through with you.” She spun around and headed for the door, her cat hot on her heels. It looked back and hissed at him, citrine eyes all but shooting sparks.
“Where are you going?” After what she’d done—failed to do—could he stop her? Would he? Letting her run might be the kindest thing to do.
“Away. I’m done with the university. Fuck your world peace, fuck your departments and teams. Fuck all of it. I’m done.”
Leaving for good? She couldn’t. He charged after her, reaching out to grab her. He needed her to stop Aurora. He needed her… for himself. He ruthlessly crushed the errant thought.
Esha glanced back over her shoulder, then reached out for her cat. When she made contact, they disappeared. He thought he heard the words fuck this echo as she departed.
Eyes blurred with tears, Esha stumbled through the door of her tower flat.
“Pathetic,” she muttered. What kind of badass was she if she was crying over that stupid asshole and this stupid place. Gods, she was the stupid one. She hadn’t cried in years, not since she’d run away from school. She’d made herself tough, someone not to be fucked with.
And look at her now.
Esha’s heart clutched as she looked around at the flat that had been her home for a decade. The windows that she’d loved when she’d first seen her new home looked out on Scotland’s Lowlands. The hills and green forests had reminded her of her old life. They’d been her bail-out option.
Joining the university permanently had been a huge change from her solitary life as a mercenary, most of which she’d spent out in the Highlands, hunting the creepiest of crawly rogue Mytheans. The sight of the green hills out her window had initially reminded her that she could leave whenever she wanted to, return to her roots as a solo mercenary who didn’t need anyone.
Hell, that was what she’d been here all along. Mistakenly, she’d thought she was joining a team when she’d signed up ten years ago, but nothing about her lifestyle or work had really changed. She should have known something was up when they’d given her the tower at the farthest edge of campus, as far as possible from the other Mytheans.
She scrubbed the tears from her face again as she walked to the middle of the floor and sat. Her face was leaking, and it was embarrassing.
I’m not a freaking wimp. I’m a badass. The Chairman curled up next to her, so she sank her fingers into his warm fur, sighing at the comfort that rushed over her. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stop the tears. He was her family. Her familiar was the only one who’d been at her side this entire time. She loved Ana too, but she could escape Otherworld so rarely.
Esha lay back on the wooden floor and stared up at the beam-supported ceiling. She’d loved this place at first, but all the shit that had happened recently made her realize that it had become a prison. A prison in which she accepted her outcast status. She’d thought it didn’t bother her, that she was above it.
But she wasn’t. All the little bad things—the glares, snide comments, loneliness amongst a sea of other Mytheans—were piling up until they became too much to bear. This last event pushed her over the edge. This place was breaking her apart.
As the fog of exhaustion crept across her mind, a glorious idea came with it. Esha didn’t have to stay at the university in hopes of finding a place to fit in. Another soulceress was about to arrive in Scotland.
Esha had been alive for more than three hundred years, and for the first time in her long life, she had a chance to meet another of her kind. Another soulceress wouldn’t cringe at the sight of her. She might even know things that Esha didn’t about being a soulceress. Maybe she could even teach her to control her power collection. If she could do that, then she could have a more normal life.
Best of all, she would know someone who would accept her for who she was.
CHAPTER NINE
Warren stared, slack-jawed, at the space that Esha had only recently inhabited.
She was gone. Totally out of reach. He’d been a bastard and had driven her away because he was so fucked up. Regret for the pain he’d seen in her eyes was a physical ache in his chest, but he pushed it aside for the bigger problems that loomed on the horizon.
There was no way to convince her to help keep Aurora imprisoned. He’d done everything he could, tried to follow the rules of the university, but she’d be getting out no matter what.
Sick joy dawned within him. His extremities tingled with it. He’d done everything he could, but Aurora was going to escape.
Which meant he could hunt her, his conscience clear. His mind spun with the possibilities, a tornado within his head.
Focus, you bastard. He began to breathe deeply, counting back from one hundred. By the time he reached the thirties, his breathing had calmed. By the tens, he’d gained control of his rampant mind.
First step, he had to go to the witches to learn the details of Aurora’s release. Afterward, he’d find Esha and apologize. But this had to come first.
Thirty minutes later, Warren strode into the witches’ part of campus. He reached the door, but the sound of arguing stilled his fist. Raised voices and sparks flew out the window, nearly singeing his cheek. Curious, and ever cautious of witches in an uproar, he sidled along the cottage wall until he reached a window.
What he saw within made his brows draw down. A dozen witches stood in varying states of disarray around the room, yelling at each other. One pulled at her hair in frustration, while another yanked books off the shelf so fast that they flew to the floor when she decided they weren’t what she was looking for.