Touched by Fire (Demons of New Chicago #1) - Kel Carpenter Page 0,36
I touch someone for the first time, I see . . . things about them.” She struggled for words. “Sometimes it’s just a feeling for who they are. Sometimes I get visions of the future. Their future. It’s different every time.”
“All right,” I said, running a hand through my hair. I walked up to the other side of the counter and leaned one hip against it. “So you’re some kind of witch freak. Not the weirdest thing I’ve seen or heard. What’s it got to do with me?”
“When we touched the first time, I had a premonition I’ve never had before. It was like a feeling, but more—and before you ask, no, I don’t really know how to explain it better than that. It told me you’re my future. You. Singularly. That I will find my way because of you—and that any future without you ends in death.”
“That’s an awful lot to get from a backhand,” I pointed out.
“This ability—whatever it is—it’s never wrong. Believe me, when I first woke up and you were tying me to a chair, I really wished it were otherwise.”
I let out a heavy exhale. “Were you lying to me about anything else?”
“No,” she said.
“Is there any way for me to confirm that?”
A slight grin curled around her lips. “Unfortunately for you, a blood oath or a spell are the only ways. Given I don’t think you can cast spells, pretty sure that only leaves the oath. Something I’m not so sure you want to do with your aversion to magic . . .”
She wasn’t wrong. I really didn’t like the idea of any kind of binding . . . but I also liked the idea that she was actually a bounty hunter, or worse, an assassin working for my boss, even less. My dislike of magic came from the price of it. Not many things were worse than being dead, though.
The real question was, did I trust her more than I hated magic?
Or did I trust magic more than her?
“What’s the price of the blood oath?”
She didn’t even blink. “Whatever you ask of it, you also have to give. So, in this case, if you want truth, I’ll also be allowed to ask for truth. If either of us lies, it kills us both.”
Motherfucker.
Of course it would have a built-in equalizer. How fucking convenient.
I’d have my answers, but only if I were willing to offer up my own truths.
“If what you say is true, you have no intention of leaving at any point, do you?”
“Nope,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “Even if you try to make me. I told you, I don’t want to die, and the only way that’s going to happen is if I stick around with you.”
Fuck me.
“You know, all of this would be a lot simpler if I just shot you.”
I pulled one of my guns out of my holster, weighing it in my hand. She lifted her eyebrows in question, but she didn’t look afraid.
“You won’t,” she said, then shrugged and went back to eating her sandwich.
“What makes you so sure?”
She gave me a dubious look and set her sandwich back down. Nathalie walked around the kitchen, reaching up to brush the crumbs from the side of her mouth as she did so.
“If I wasn’t confident in my ability, I wouldn’t be here,” she started, coming to stand directly in front of me. She reached out with narrow fingers and curled my own around the handle of the gun.
I squinted, not sure where this was going. Then she lifted that hand and pressed the end of the barrel to her forehead.
I’d thought she was smart.
I was starting to wonder if I should have questioned if she was crazy.
“You truly believe that I won’t shoot you,” I said softly.
“If you’re going to, get it over with. If you want the blood oath, fine, let’s do this. But we’re more likely to die from you not trusting me when we both need you to. So make up your mind, Piper.” She released the barrel and lowered her arms, letting me hold the gun aimed at her forehead.
We stood there, staring at each other.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say part of me was tempted to just do it. If she truly planned on sticking around, there was no way she wouldn’t eventually find out the truth. Not to mention the complications of having a partner with me for the foreseeable future. I’d worked alone for so long now