Okay, this isn’t the Flame-finger energy pulse. Or not just. This is Big Feelings. As in my feelings for Siaka. How in the world am I going to handle working with this guy I’m so attracted to for years...even decades?

Siaka pulls his hand back. “I mean, only if you want to, of course.” There’s a seed of hurt in his voice. “Bran said you’d be up for it, but seriously, if you don’t like the work, or don’t...” He gets this look like something’s dawning on him. “Or if you don’t like your work partner, then I’m sure he can find someone else.”

“Oh my god, no, it’s not that,” I sputter. “No, I totally dig this work. And you. And...” Oh no, now I’m babbling like an idiot. I try to come up with something that makes it sound like it’s not personal. But it totally is.

“It’s only that I thought I was coming to Paris to work with other bardia. Working with a Flame-finger is just...I wasn’t expecting it,” I say, trying to calm the panic in my voice.

“Oh,” Siaka says. He looks at me strangely, like he’s trying to decipher the text of one of his ancient recipes. And then his face contorts. “Oh. Okay, I get it. We Flame-fingers are just humans who happen to have gifts. We’re not actually supernatural like you. So, you don’t consider us equals.”

“Oh my god, that’s not at all what I meant,” I say, starting to freak out. “Bran has been amazing. He healed me. I owe him so much. I love Flame-fingers. Seriously.” I force myself to shut up before I say something even more stupid. But it doesn’t matter, because Siaka’s face has already slammed shut.

He swivels around in his chair to face his screen and starts furiously typing into the database. I watch him and wonder how in the world I’m going to survive working with him, without having a total breakdown.

Chapter Eleven

It’s been an hour of pure, uninterrupted silence. A good helping of anguish served atop a burnt toast smell from the lab has me feeling green at the gills. Siaka and I sit a foot apart, typing into our computers and pretending a diplomatic disaster didn’t just occur.

So when the door flies open, we both jump a foot out of our chairs. I grab my chest, like I’m having a heart attack and Siaka screams, “What the fuck?”