She listened as Jack's breathing went from normal to deep and even, signaling he'd fallen asleep. He'd left enough slack in the rope that she could rest her hands on her chest. She spent some time using her teeth to worry at the knot, but he'd tied it so well she couldn't figure out how to free herself. Knowing she couldn't get out of the apartment anyway, she gave up and drummed her fingers on her collarbone as the events of the day assaulted her mind.

Mira would bet anything that one of the abilities of a witch with skill in the element of water was the ability to read emotion. Annie had always been empathic to the point of having preternatural ability. Mira had never been able to keep anything from her as she'd been growing up.

Then there were those unexplained incidents in Mira's life. Times when Mira had been very emotional, angry or grieving, when it had seemed like a breeze had swirled around her even when she'd been within buildings on windless days. There had been times she'd felt a warm burst of power in the center of her chest when she drew a lungful of air on a spring day. There were other things too, all so mild that she'd been able to find rational explanations for them.

Could it be that these occurrences had been her magick manifesting independently? Maybe because she'd never trained her power, it had whispered out of her on its own at random moments?

She shook her head. Silly. Stupid. Jack was really getting to her.

She leaned back against the pillows, searching for a comfortable place to lie. All of it was almost enough to make her believe, but not quite. Her rational mind wasn't ready to give up its stranglehold on the reality she'd always known. In that reality her parents had died in a car crash. There had been no foul play.

And there was no such thing as magick.

FIVE

FOUR

MIRA AWOKE LYING ON HER SIDE WITH ONE FIST curled against her mouth. The scent of breakfast teased her from sleep, and she opened her eyes blearily to an empty bed and morning sunlight streaming in through the window. Jack had untied her at some point during the night. The rope hadn't impeded her sleep, really. Her mind had done that. She rubbed her wrists. The rope hadn't even left marks on her skin. The man had talent.

Groaning, she rolled over and ended up with her nose in Jack's pillow. She groaned again, this time from the scent of him. The light woody and spicy scent made all her nerve endings shoot to attention.

The man was a menace, pure and simple.

She'd never met a man as attractive as Jack. Since she had such good taste in men, it figured he'd turn out to be a raving lunatic.

Maybe.