I could barely keep a straight face, so focused on picking up my dropped silver—which wouldn’t be of any use now, with the edge nicked like that …

As if I cared about nicked silver. As if I wasn’t just trying to distract myself from my present predicament.

Tom adjusted his grip on the basket. “I’ll, uh, leave you two to sort it out,” he said, winking at me as he walked by.

I stood, waiting until Tom disappeared in a room down the hall before saying, “I hope you’re happy. Tom must think the worst of us.”

“I am happy,” Magnus said. “And I hope he does.”

I stormed up to him, and he winced as I grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down to be more level with my gaze, although I still had to look up a little. “Why couldn’t you have just done what I asked and stood in front of me while I worked? Don’t you want to be cleansed?”

“Are you mad because I saved your life without your permission or because Tom thought we were being intima—Ow!” I’d shoved him away, his back colliding with the edge of the doorway. He scowled. “Why are you taking this out on me? There are plenty of rooms to cleanse, just pick another one.”

“You’re protecting the Librarian.”

“What?” He gaped, gripping his wild curls with both fists. “I’m protecting you, you incredible little snapping turtle.”

“Don’t call me a snapping turtle!”

“You’re snapping at me right now!”

I yelled out my frustration. “Just stay out of my way so I can work.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me for the past two days?” he asked, but I was already walking away. “Or are you just ashamed to admit you enjoyed kissing me?”

I halted, my face flaring red as I turned back to him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“To be fair, I do better when I’m prepared.”

“Good for you,” I said, unamused.

He let out a small laugh. “Just so you know, today I’m prepared.”

I gripped my fists and had to swallow to keep my voice even. “Don’t mock me, sir.”

“Never,” he said, and for once in this conversation he sounded completely levelheaded and sincere. He took out a handkerchief and wet it with his tongue, pressing it to my bloody temple. I would’ve forgotten about it; it barely throbbed. “And don’t call me ‘sir.’”

“Or you’ll replace me?” I’d meant to turn on my heel and leave him alone to pout. Instead I looked him in his brown eyes brimming with curiosity. “During my interview, that’s what you said. That you’d replace me with someone who would call you by your name.”