“You did. With blinding bolts of lightning. That’s enough. It doesn’t hurt.”

She shifted away, stood. “You should take the salve for the others.”

“That’s for you. I have more.”

“I’ll be down as soon as I get dressed. We all have a lot to talk about.”

“We do.” But he stood where he was, waited.

“You lied to me.”

“I never did.”

“The absence of truth—”

“Isn’t always a lie. Sometimes it’s just personal business.”

“I told you everything about me, everything I knew, and you . . . What are you? A warlock?”

He winced, had to struggle not to be insulted. “Some will insist on turning that word away from its origin—which is one who does evil, even the devil—and making into a man with powers. I’ll take witch, even sorcerer, but I prefer magician, which is what I told you when we met.”

Accusations, and worse, much worse, disappointed hurt lived in her eyes.

“You know what I thought you meant.”

“I do, and there’s an absence there. Still, I do stage magic to make a living and to entertain myself. And my blood, my craft, my gift, and my honor is in white magicks. But it’s considerable to share with someone who doesn’t trust her own gifts, fáidh. What would your reaction have been, I wonder, if I’d shown you more than a bit of sleight of hand at first?”

“I don’t know.”

“My family keeps our bloodline to ourselves, not out of shame, but caution. I can wish now I’d been able to show you what I am, who I am, in its entirety, in a less dramatic way, but Nerezza took the choice out of my hands.”

“She meant to drain me.”

“I never anticipated, and for that . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t plan it better, or find a better way. But I can’t be sorry for what I am, or for waiting until I felt there was real trust before I told you, or the others.”

“Did you kiss me to help create trust?”

He cursed, surprising her with the quick flare of anger as he strode around the room. “That’s an insult to both of us. Bloody hell.”

He grabbed her, yanked her to him without any of the care or gentleness he’d shown in the healing. The flare of anger remained hot and ready in the kiss.

“You know it all now, so what was that about, do you suppose?”

“I have to think about it.”

“Fine then, you do that.”

“I’ll be down when I’m dressed.”

“That’s grand.” He strode out, gave the door a quick, bad-tempered slam.

She turned, walked to the mirror. No marks remained on her throat, and color had come back into her face. She didn’t feel weak now, Sasha realized.

And that was a damn good start.

* * *

Sawyer put his spin on sandwiches with grilled ham and cheese. Annika once again created a tablescape with napkins folded into flowers arranged along a winding river of plates. Once again wearing one of her flowy dresses, she stopped her work to turn and give Sasha a hard and heartfelt hug.