“Last week you were toasting magnificent breasts, if I remember correctly.”
Shamus grinned. “Also lovely, but I’ve matured since then. To love.” He lifted his own glass and took a long drink.
Zay looked over at me. “To love,” he said quietly.
“To love,” I said. And joy, I also blushed like mad, my face washed with heat from that look in Zayvion’s eyes.
“You,” I said to Shamus, to have an excuse to look away from the raw intensity of Zayvion’s gaze, “are a trouble maker.,
“Aren’t we all?”
“No,” Zayvion said. “Some of us are trouble enders.”
Shamus chuckled. “Like hell.”
And he toasted us again, drained his glass, then patted Zayvion on the shoulder. “My friend. Be well. I need a smoke.”
“That’s gonna kill you someday,” Zayvion said into the rim of his beer.
Shamus nodded. “I could only be so lucky.” Then to me: “Tomorrow, love. Ten o’clock. Don’t be late. The mum has the temper of a demon with a diaper rash.”
He lifted a hand in farewell and walked across the room, weaving his way between tables, until I couldn’t see him anymore.
Chapter Eight
I finished my burger and fries, but not my beer. Zayvion sat with me, pulling his Zen moves, patient, silent. I finally pushed my plate away. “Mind if I get a ride home?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” He stood and offered me his hand.
Like I said, old-fashioned.
I took it as I stood, then we walked out through the door nearest us, which opened onto the wooden porch that paralleled the river. The cool, dark scents of moving water filled my nose and lungs. Night had settled into the cracks of day, and only the yellow lanterns lining the old inn held it back.
There was no one in the parking lot. We walked down the porch steps and out into the clear night—wonder of wonders, it was not raining. I looked up at clouds broken by patches of stars.
Nice.
“You and Chase used to date?” I asked as we made our way across the parking lot.
“No. But we were lovers.”
Okay, even though I liked his honesty and had said I was adult enough to deal with the fact he’d had other relationships, I cringed a little. Chase was gorgeous, and they’d obviously known each other for a lot longer than Zay and I. And it was highly likely she didn’t get involved with weird Necromorph things, lose bits of her memory, or carry a dead relative around in her head.
Speaking of which, I hadn’t felt my dad since I’d been sitting with Shamus and Zayvion.
“We trained together,” Zay said.
“For?”
“Our jobs. The Authority. She’s a Closer too.”
“Is that what I’m training to be?”
“I don’t know. None of us know. When you are accepted into the Authority, you are tested to see what your natural abilities are and which branch of magic they can best be used with.”
“Like the test Maeve gave me in there?”
“No. Your real test will be done with several members of the Authority in attendance. Three days from now. Maeve was just gauging what you already know, and what preparation your testers will need so you don’t harm yourself or others during it.”
“And figuring that out takes more than one day?”
Here he smiled a small smile. “Not generally.”
Yeah, well, that made sense. I couldn’t imagine Maeve really wanted me to blow the walls out of her room again. No wonder Shamus ducked out early. If he was going to stand as my Proxy again tomorrow, he’d need the sleep.
No, I wouldn’t let him do it. I could Proxy my own magic use, and Maeve would just have to deal with that.
“So you and Chase trained together,” I pressed, bracing myself for the rest of the story.
He nodded. “The Authority is insular, private—it has to be to survive. And the organization is very, very careful about the people it allows in. Only a few people a year are even tested for it, and most don’t make it. During most of my . . . training . . .”
I noted his pause, but didn’t ask about it.
“. . . I was alone. Sometimes Shamus and I were allowed to train with the same teacher, but Shamus isn’t a Closer. When Chase came to the Authority, and when she was approved to train, she was taught by my teacher, Victor.”
“Have I met him?”
“Not while I’ve known you. Maybe before then, although with how much your father kept you in the dark about this, I’d say it’s doubtful. There are five disciplines of magic the