He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him before she could leave. His gaze searched hers for some trace of what she might be feeling.

"I'm fine, Adam." Then she turned and walked into the house.

"That makes one of us," he whispered before she disappeared within.

She hesitated, but kept walking.

While they waited, Claire kept her air magick open as much as possible to alert her if the Atrika came near the house, but after four days the Atrika hadn't showed. That was good. It was bad that Micah had made little headway on her problem, and Claire grew even more restless for a way to rid herself of the elium.

On the couch opposite her, Adam lay with his powerful body spread out, taking up every inch of available space. His eyes were closed, but Claire knew he wasn't sleeping. By now she could recognize the changes in his breathing pattern that signaled true slumber. She'd lain awake the last three nights listening to every move he made.

He wore a pair of well-loved jeans that—not that she was paying much attention—defined his thighs and rear really well. Claire liked blue jeans, a garment they didn't have on Eudae. She especially liked them on Adam when they were well-worn in all the right places.

She shifted uneasily on her chair, jostling the heavy book in her lap. The dream, even after three days, still clung to her memory. It still made her shiver when she thought about it.

And Adam still hadn't touched her.

The fact that Adam hadn't touched her bothered her a lot less than the fact that she really, really wanted him to.

Irritated, she flipped the book of photography she'd been thumbing through closed. The heavy thump startled Adam, making him jump.

She sighed. "If I could just get to the Coven and work with Micah, maybe together we could figure it out. I need to take a look at the texts he's got, but I can't do anything to help him from way over here."

Adam relaxed again and closed his eyes. "Too dangerous. If the Atrika can't track you magickally—which it appears they can't—logic says they're staking out the Coven somehow, watching for some clue about where you are."

She tossed the book to the cushion beside her. "I dislike having a weapon inside me."

"Have you learned how to use the elium yet? Maybe if you learn to tap it and direct it, you'll feel less hostile toward it."

"I'm still trying. I can only poke at it so much during the day before it starts making me feel ill. It's like having a cancer inside me."

"Cancer?" Adam opened his eyes, swung his long legs to the floor and crossed the room to her. The air fire attraction that hit them both powerfully four days ago by now should have faded. They'd spent much time together, even sleeping in the same room. By all rights, their magicks should have found a balance and ceased in the incessant brush-and-hum, the give-and-take that was so sexual in nature.