Quinton reaches out to touch my shoulder, but a low rumble, so deep it seems to rise from beneath the ground, emanates from Flanagan’s chest. Is that a growl? I can feel it vibrating through the bones of my feet.

Quinton steps back. I catch a flinch. “Gabriel, I examined the boy’s mind. The process has consequences, but I assure you he is unharmed.”

While Flanagan’s worried eyes roam my face, I smooth my hands along the lean muscles of his forearms, enjoying the brush of fine hair beneath my fingers. My gaze falls on the three neat plaits at the side of his head, gathered into the untidy knot he favors. The style should be feminine but somehow accentuates the man’s fierceness. Fallen strands of hair burn amber in the afternoon sun, caressing the muscled line of his neck and highlighting the vein beneath his sun-gold skin. I want to lick that vein. I want to bury my face in lush blond hair and taste the man’s scent on my lips.

“Michael.” His deep voice breaks through my hungry trance.

“Huh?”

He moves a hand to the back of my head, heat from his palm spreading deep beneath my skin, and the Flame responds, streaming a burn through my spine to meet his touch.

“Come back to me,” he whispers.

I feel the request as a gentle push against my will. In response, my mind eases into focus, waking from its daydream. I notice the candle chandelier, its crystals catching the sun’s glare. The grisly tribal masks hung above the bookshelves. Quinton’s shadowed eyes. Flanagan holds my head in his hands, his huge body way too close for comfort. He’s stroking my face.

What the fuck?

I bash his hands away and jump back. “Get your hands off me. What the hell?”

“Aaand he’s back,” Quinton sings. “As I said, no damage.”

I glare at Flanagan, but he’s looking at me with what can only be described as affectionate amusement. My frown twists into a scowl.

“What’s going on?” I demand, steadying myself with the shelf behind me.

“You are simply recovering from the effects of a mind scan,” Quinton replies. “Nothing more.” He motions to a chair. “Please, sit down. Rest for now.”

“I’ll stay here, thanks.” I’m still glowering at Flanagan.

The bastard remains unaffected by my anger and addresses Quinton. “Alexei’s Blood Guard and four units of Servants have left Dvamira Castle. Headquarters believe their intention is to hit Longreach. You don’t seem surprised they’re on the move. Is that because you think it has something to do with Michael?”

My heart thuds at the mention of Alexei, a mixture of fear and elation filling my chest. I keep the response away from my face.