Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1) by Kathryn Jayne (ebooks that read to you .TXT) 📕

eyes that had no place there. She flinched from his touch, but not before his skin was enveloped with the familiar heat that came from contact, and with it came the realisation that something was very wrong.

Having moved back and forth in his mind about what he should do about his growing feelings towards her, he had decided it was safer to keep her at a distance, but that didn’t prevent his body from betraying him. His hand would reach out, tucking away a stray strand of her hair, stroking her arm, squeezing her hand, or brushing her fingers with his as she lifted a drink from his grasp at lunch. Any excuse to touch her and his body would betray his wishes and exploit it. His mind raced back to every time he had laid his hand upon her for the last few days, and with a sudden chill he realised all contact had been absent of the warmth associated with touching her, and it was only now he realised why. He hadn’t actually been touching her. Sure, it had felt like his hand had rested upon hers, that his fingers traced across her back, but the pressure was from her aura not her skin, as if it were shielding her.

His heart sank as he saw the tears streaking her face and the unmistakable hint of a bruise once concealed beneath the layer of running make-up. He placed his fingers to her face, tilting her chin to bring her gaze to his. He was trying not to display the anger burning in his core; it had no place here, she had no cause to see it.

“You’re…” She nodded, there was no reason to voice what they both already knew. “How?”

“I was attacked,” she whispered. Without a thought, Conrad felt himself take her within his arms, holding her close. She rested her head upon his chest, her voice never rising above a whisper. “I don’t think they knew what I’d been doing. It was just random.” She choked out a strangled laugh. “I always thought someone would realise and deal with me, but I… I never thought I’d be like this because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Conrad eased her back, his hands on her shoulder so he could study her face as a flicker of understanding passed through his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His beautiful witch really did possess some magic beyond the spell she had over him.

“You’re the reason the PB figures are low, why this territory has fewer unwanted transitions. How? I mean…” He breathed in her scent again, tasting the air around her and still finding nothing. Ashley crossed an arm across herself protectively, her gaze not lifting from the floor as they resumed walking.

“I found out in high school. Me, Tess and Jack have always been close. One day, there was this air about him, sullied, wrong. He’d been jumped a few days before and they took more than his money, they made him Atelís. I don’t know why but something told me I should kiss him. A day later, his fever broke and he was back to himself, with no trace of the change. Even the bite tag had been removed. The funny thing is, no one ever remembers it was me who kissed them, except Jack. After that, the three of us decided to use what I could do to help as many people as possible.”

“That’s your bet,” he whispered in understanding, feeling more relief than he knew was appropriate. “You use it as a precursor, a dare in case you have to explain yourself.” She nodded, confirming his suspicions. “But”—he circled her, studying her throat, collar bone, wrists, all the normal places a tag would appear, but her skin was perfect, unblemished—“I don’t see a bite.” He studied her shoulders, once more noticing how she recoiled against his touch.

“It’s not there,” she whispered, and he saw her eyelids droop towards the floor, the tears threatening to spill from her heavy eyelashes, and he understood.

“Come home with me, now,” he commanded, growling as he grasped her hand and led the way, leaving no room for argument, no chance for her to object, and to his relief she simply followed. He didn’t trust himself to say any more. His temperature was rising, his blood boiling as his other-self demanded justice, vengeance, and blood. He would hunt down anyone who had laid a hand on her and deliver them personally to hell.

Conrad had thought many times about bringing Ashley to his home to meet his parents, but never in any of his imaginary scenarios had it been for this reason. His parents didn’t harbour the same caution about what they were as he did, and he knew under normal circumstances he couldn’t have risked bringing her here, not before telling her the truth of his origins. But none of that mattered now.

He had spoken to them about Ashley covertly, probing to discover if there was any way a human and one of their kind could become anything more than friends. He had seen the pain in his mother’s eyes as she broke the news to him. In all their history, never had one of their kind been able to partner safely with a human, or many of the preternatural species. His love would destroy her. It ran too hot, too deep for something so frail to survive. They had told him, for both their sakes, that he should turn his focus to creatures of a sturdier composition.

Ashley had hopped on the back of his bike without reservation, sliding the spare helmet on and pressing herself against him in such a way that, had this been any other day, any other situation, he would have taken the long road home just to spend a few more moments so close to her. He imagined his presence offering her strength and warmth, reassurance that whoever wronged her would