Jack just stood there looking stunned. Mira regretted her question in that moment a million times over. Obviously, he hadn't intended to get that close to her.

She felt her cheeks flush. "I mean—never mind—”

"No, I'd be happy to spot you," said Jack, interrupting her.

This was awkward. "No, really. I'll be fine—”

He walked to her. "Mira, shhh. Turn around.”

She turned, and he moved in close to her back. His warm masculinity enveloped her and the faint scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. He brushed her hair away from her shoulder, making her feel warm, making her long for more of his touch. She had to focus, she reminded herself. He touched her because he wanted to help her access her magick, not because he wanted her.

Mira let her eyes drift closed and sighed when his arms came around her, his fingertips finding the seat of her magick nestled between her breasts.

"All right?" he murmured. Jack's warm breath disturbed the hair that fell over her shoulder. Despite the uncomfortable moment they'd just shared, Mira relaxed instantly in his arms. With Jack so near her she felt safe, protected, secure enough to draw her magick and use it.

"Uh, huh," she answered absently.

"Go ahead," Jack said softly near her ear. "I'll help you control it if you draw too much.”

Mira found a thread, grasped, and pulled it without even a flicker of hesitation. She brought it up and shaped it with her mind into a nice breeze. It blew through the room, hitting both of them and making Mira shiver in Jack's arms.

"Again," Jack whispered.

Mira did it again. Then again. Then again. Sometimes she would make the breeze blow harder, or softer. Sometimes she made it go from the left to the right, or the right to the left. Once she created a gentle downdraft. She lost herself to the creation and release, tweaking here and there, learning the subtleties of her power. Mira found herself immersed in it, endlessly fascinated by the ways she could shape it to perform the task she set for it.

She didn't know how long she spent standing there in her concrete sanctuary, but when she finally opened her eyes and came back to the world around her ... Jack was gone.

SEVENTEEN

SIXTEEN

Jack came back to his room, at the Coven in the middle of the night to find his door ajar. He stood in the corridor, his duffle bag hanging loosely in his hand, and contemplated it. He'd just returned from a trip to Minneapolis to handle the final cleanup of the destruction in his apartment and had taken a late flight back to the Coven. He was pretty sure he'd turned off all the lights before he'd left, and he was certain he'd closed and locked the door.