It was the iron bracelet I had clamped onto his wrist four months ago to banish him. Once the bracelet was on his wrist all I had had to do was turn the key to the right to send him into the Borderlands, but at the last minute I hadn’t been able to do it. Touching that cold iron now I remembered how I’d chosen to dissolve into the shadows with him rather than lose him. I had begun to merge with him – a piece of me had merged with the shadows – a piece that still felt like it was a part of his dark matter. I looked up into his face and saw that his eyes were on my chest.

Typical guy, I thought, aware suddenly of how my wet t-shirt clung to me, but then I realized it wasn’t my breasts he was looking at, it was the iron key that hung between them.

He looked up. “You still wear it. That means …”

“It means nothing,” I said, pulling my hand out of the water. But he grabbed it and intertwined his fingers with mine. He pulled me closer, until his face was even with mine, his lips inches from mine.

“No, Callie, it doesn’t mean nothing. It means you feel …” He tilted his head and moved a millimeter closer. His nostrils dilated as if he were inhaling me. “… sorry.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” I cried out, as if he had just hurt me. But he wasn’t hurting me. His lips grazed my cheek in the gentlest kiss.

“I know,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. “You had no choice. You thought I’d preyed on the students.”

“I didn’t know it was Mara!” His lips were on my throat.

“Of course not. I don’t blame you for hating me when you thought I could do that. But even then you hesitated. You wanted to come with me.”

I closed my eyes and recalled that dark urge as I rested my head on his shoulder. He ran his tongue down the length of my neck, and brushed his cheek against the top of my breast, nudging my wet t-shirt away. His face was rough with a day’s worth of bristle, just the way I liked it best. Hmm … hadn’t he been clean shaven a moment ago? He was changing right in front of me, becoming what I wanted him to become, doing just exactly what I liked … He pulled my bra back with his teeth and ran his tongue in a slow circle over my nipple, then sucked. I gasped and fell against his chest. His solid, warm chest. I felt his heart beating. He was real. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to feel him hold me one last time.

But he still held his arms taut at his sides. He lifted his head and gazed at me out of pain-filled eyes. He slid his eyes to his right hand, the one that still held mine, and lifted it a centimeter above the water. I felt the muscles of his forearm straining. Tendons stood out on his biceps. His jaw was locked with the effort, but he wasn’t able to lift his hand even an inch above the water line. The iron manacle I’d clamped on him held him to the water.