Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,77

had not communicated a single word or thought to her on the entire journey, nor during their brief landings along the way. She’d used those short stops to pepper him with questions. Logical ones like:

“Why did you kidnap me?”

“What do you want with me?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“When can I go home?”

“Are you looking for a bird-bride, because I have to tell you, we won’t suit. I have a thing against bird feet.” (Shudder).

He’d simply stared at her with those strange black eyes in total silence.

Ramses had dark eyes too. Obsidian, to be precise. She rather liked his beautiful, reflective, heavily-lashed, exotically shaped eyes. Not that she’d given that much thought, obviously.

But this male’s eyes were flat, as if there was nothing living behind them. Or half alive at best. At the same time, Eveline didn’t feel like he was soulless, though she couldn’t know for sure. Only the Pure Queen, Sophia, had the Gift to sense and interpret every living being’s souls.

He just seemed… Lost. And angry. And hurt. Yet, despite all that, there was an indomitable strength and confidence about him.

A kingly presence.

Judging by his actions thus far, he was also a “gentleman,” all things considered. So, naturally, Eveline decided she’d help him.

He needed something from her, she assumed, since he took her with him. She’d see what she could do to provide it. Within reason, of course. If he wanted to throw stones at her for tossing flaming scrolls at him, she probably wouldn’t stand still for it.

The backpack also had utility knives, a compass, and other tools, which she used to prepare the meat for roasting. She was happy to know this much, not being completely helpless when she had to “rough it.” After all, when she lived at the monastery in her human life, her chores involved cooking, cleaning and mending clothes.

She didn’t mind it, actually enjoyed it—taking care of others. Because she was quite adept at it, the monks let her stay despite her sex. And in any case, they were like her fathers, uncles and big brothers, and rather doted on her through her childhood years after taking her in as a babe left in the proverbial basket upon their steps.

They were the ones who instilled a love of literature and history in her very soul. Perhaps she was always intellectually inclined, and that added to her fervor for learning.

She loved to fantasize too, weaving stories in her daydreams as she went about her chores. She loved everything about words—how they sounded when spoken, how they conveyed meaning and impacted others, how ink spread across parchment when they were written, the beauty of ancient symbols and calligraphy…

Most of all, she loved the mystery of words. How they could be interpreted in so many different ways, how different nuances of the same concept could be conveyed through different combinations of different words. The possibilities were endless. She loved the process of solving puzzles and discovering new ones.

Words were magical. Eveline should know.

She didn’t have to say the words out loud, but sometimes, when her emotions were especially intense and she focused extremely hard, she…made things happen with her thoughts.

She wished her “Gift” was more predictable, however. There had been many occasions when she would have loved to use it, present situation included, but it didn’t work the way she intended.

Like during the attack on the Shield when her comrade and previous Scribe, Orion, had perished. She’d been powerless then. Useless. She’d felt an energy broiling beneath the surface of her skin, but she hadn’t been able to unleash it. Even when circumstances were so dire, she’d choked.

But her Gift had been quite targeted and effective since meeting Ramses. Twice now, she’d been able to accomplish exactly what she intended. The first time, out of intense jealousy; the second time, out of intense fear.

She’d tried earlier to think of a way to make the eagle-man do her bidding, or take her back to the Cove, or tell her what his plans were, but nothing worked.

Fickle, unreliable “Gift.”

For this reason, Eveline really didn’t feel like she deserved the moniker “witch” that she was sometimes labeled with when her “spells” were able to take effect. She certainly didn’t broadcast her sometimes-there abilities. Even the other members of the Dozen didn’t know about it.

But she’d blurted everything out to Ramses soon after they met, threatening to curse him, full of ire and bravado as she’d been. Ramses seemed to bring out the best and worst in her.

She hoped