hadn’t said the right thing.
She snorted. “Like I’m going to believe that.”
Kill her.
The low voice rumbled through the basement, sending a chill up my spine. Serah swung her gun around, searching for the unseen assailant. She stopped trying to edge toward the stairs and was now focused on defending herself.
She’s a threat. Must kill her.
“Gage!”
“Hold still!” I snapped. My heart was thudding in my chest like a freight train, threatening to explode. I knew where the voice was coming from, but didn’t want to believe it. The once-dormant protection spell had awoken when Serah had pulled her gun and was now actively pushing against its restraints in an effort to get to her. This was an unexpected development. But then, this was the first time I had invited someone down, vouching for them, only to have them later threaten me. Apparently my protection spell was more sentient than I had thought.
Fearful that any movement toward her on my part would set her off, I had to quickly defuse the situation from where I stood. Pulling in as much energy as I could from the air around me, I first turned my attention toward strengthening the binding on the defensive spell so that it couldn’t lash out at Serah. Once I was sure that it wasn’t going to strike my guest, I extended my hand toward the small woman. Despite her tight grip, the gun jumped from her hands and landed on my open palm.
“What the hell!” she said and lurched after her gun until she saw where it landed. She froze, tears glistening in her eyes. Bitter anger rose in my chest to see such fear directed at me. Those looks followed me no matter where I went. I might not have earned them for my actions, but there was no doubt that her life had been touched by the Towers. No one escaped the Ivory Towers.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said slowly and in the most soothing voice I could muster.
“But . . . the voice . . .”
“The gun pissed off my security system.” I forced a little smile as I shoved my wand into the back pocket of my jeans with the hope that its absence would help her relax a bit. “It’s a little protective and not very discriminating.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
Holding up the gun, I took several steps backward and placed it on the table along the far wall, putting out of our reach for the time being. “We’re just going to put this here for now. So we’re both safe.”
“So . . . so . . . you’re a warlock.” She violently blinked back her tears, fighting to keep them from falling. I admired her for trying to get her emotions under control and it wasn’t an easy task. Her face was frighteningly pale and her hands were shaking, forcing her to ball them into fists at her sides so that I wouldn’t notice.
“Yes. I am a warlock.”
“Do the Towers know?”
A surprised laugh escaped me. I liked the idea that I might have slipped past the Towers’ notice all those years ago; not that it was at all possible, but it was a nice thought. “Yeah, they know. I studied in the Towers when I was a kid before escaping. I’ve been trying to lay low and avoid their notice but it doesn’t always work out too well.”
Some of the fear eased from her eyes and her body relaxed as I spoke. “Are they looking for you?”
“No,” I said quickly and then scrunched my face up as that didn’t exactly feel like the full truth. “Well, some might be, but they’re not supposed to be.” I groaned and rubbed my face. I was exhausted and the story of my escape was not a quick one. Or an easy one. “Let’s just say I got away, but not everyone is very happy about it. I’m here in Low Town pretending to be an average tattoo artist. I’m not supposed to be using magic, but I thought you could use some help to stop this sicko.”
“And you’re not going to kill me?”
Sadly, that was not the first time I’d been asked that question. “No, it’s not my thing.”
“Does your girlfriend know?”
Nor was it the first time I’d been asked that question. “Yes, Trixie knows,” I said, though there was a little bit more of an edge to my voice. I wanted to get home and snuggle in bed with my girlfriend. That was assuming that