It wasn’t because of his looks either. His looks had nothing to do with it. Not even a little bit.
I spared him the briefest glance, taking him all in, even though my retinas practically burned white with the impact. It just wasn’t fair all that gorgeousness was decorating so much wizardier-than-thou superiority.
Rafe…was stunning. Mind-blowingly sexy. Knee-weakeningly delicious. His dark chocolate-brown eyes missed nothing, his almost exquisitely carved features—high cheekbones, a stubborn jaw, elegant lips perpetually curled in a sneer or pursed intently in thought—were so finely sculpted, they’d make Michelangelo cry. Tonight, in his sleek black knit shirt and pants, a black fabric messenger bag snugged close to his body, he looked like an assassin—tall but not towering, well-built but not muscle-bound, and quiet—so quiet. The kind of guy who could appear out of nowhere and scare the living hell out of you, then make you desperate for him to touch you, hold you, press you up against the wall and take you deep and long until your release shattered people’s eardrums three blocks away. He was powerful, fierce, and he set my world on fire.
And I didn’t like him. No, seriously. I didn’t.
“We’re connected,” he reminded me.
I scowled. “You know, it’s not very polite to read somebody’s mind when they don’t give you permission.”
“I’m not reading your mind. I’m reading you. There’s a difference.”
“Well, how about you return that particular book to the library? Because I’m pretty sure it’s overdue.”
“We’ll talk about it after we get out of here,” he promised, but of course I didn’t believe him. Rafe did everything on his schedule, following a clock wound as tight as he was. That clock was ticking down to something, and I didn’t think I was going to like it when it finally hit zero.
Still, I couldn’t say no to Rafe, no matter what he asked. I had a job to do, and I was going to do it. My entire purpose for being on the Mage Runners was to help the guys win the Mage Trials competition. If tonight’s vaguely illegal activities could help us get a leg up on level four of the Trials, I was in.
And if he suggested that we do other stuff, intimate stuff, well…I didn’t want to think about that too much.
Because despite my deep and richly earned annoyance with Rafe, things had gotten super weird between us. Or at least, super weird for me. Since our last round of competition in the Mage Trials, every time I was by myself, I couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Him specifically, not any of the other members of our team, who I genuinely loved at this point. Rafe was the only one of our team who didn’t spark affection, camaraderie, or joy.
He sparked something way, way different.
I didn’t just want to be Rafe’s pal or his comrade-in-arms, his confidante and his teammate. I wanted him to consume me. To blast through every inch of my body and explode it from the inside out, preferably with his mouth covering mine and our naked bodies tangled together in hot, screaming passion. I wanted to take him, to let him take me, over and over again until there was nothing left of him, of me, or anything around us except smoking ash and scorched earth.
You know, because that was totally normal.
The only time I got any respite from my shake-the-earth feelings for Rafe was when I was standing right next to him, like right now. Then I could see him as the true pain in the ass he was.
“When did it start?” Rafe murmured. “The more intense physical pull?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He chuckled. “I got that. But you’re thinking about it. Fighting it. And you didn’t always. When did it start?”
My hands tightened into fists, heat sparking in my spine, down my arms. My fingers tingled even as I flushed.
“You’re the one crawling inside my brain. You tell me,” I muttered. But Rafe, being Rafe, didn’t know when to shut up.
“I told you, I can’t read your mind. I’m not Marcus. You talk to me in your mind, I can hear you. Everything else is me analyzing your body language, your expression, the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching you.” He turned to study me, his sharp gaze piercing the gloom. “It’s gotten worse since we completed level three of the Trials, I think. A lot worse.”
My ears were practically burning now, my tongue thick in my mouth. I tried to speak normally, but my words were too fast, too panicked, even to my own ears. “This is a super fascinating conversation, but shouldn’t we be focusing on the crime we’re about to commit?”
“Not yet, I don’t think.”
Rafe lifted a casual hand beside me, the way you would to tap someone’s shoulder or brush their hair out of their face. I couldn’t help it; I flinched away. Heat swamped me, and I bit out a curse, practically feeling my knees wobble. “Stop that,” I hissed.
“This could be a liability,” he observed drily.
“You being a dick is the liability. The rest I can manage.” My cheeks heated in the darkness. What the hell was wrong with me?
Rafe settled back on his heels, leaned one shoulder against the wall, and watched me. He watched everything. It was what he did best.
“Why are we here anyway?” I finally asked, stepping away from him to stare up to the crenelated roofline, black against the stars. “This is the archives building. Your last name is Twyst. Surely that gives daytime access, doesn’t it?”
“This is the archive building, but not the front door. There are records held here that aren’t shared with ordinary students or people making general inquiries. They’re also held in rooms that are hardly ever opened.”
I made a face. “Why are those records here at all? If they’re so important, it seems to me they shouldn’t be stored on-site at Twyst Academy.”
Rafe’s smile was more of a smirk. “Ordinarily, you’d be right. But we’re dealing with wizards here. If there’s one thing you need to know about wizards, it’s—”
“I know, I know,” I said, cutting him off. “Marcus already gave me this speech. You’re very, very curious. It’s a problem.”
Rafe huffed a short laugh. “Okay, well, that’s true. But if there’s a second thing you need to know about wizards—”
“Should I be making a list?”
“It’s that we’re extremely proud,” Rafe continued. “There’s no one, absolutely no one who can protect our secrets better than we can ourselves, and we take every opportunity to prove it. More than that, the secrets this particular structure is hiding are of such an obscure nature that most people don’t even know about them or care. We’re talking history from all the way back in the mid-1800s, the kind of history that deals with decrepit excavation permits and property records, not great and powerful magic.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “And how did you find out about said history? Because it seems to me if this is information your uncle gave to you, he also could’ve given you a key to the back room.”
Rafe held up his hand. “You’d think so. I certainly did. Given his position on the board of directors, not to mention his last name, Thelonius should rule everything at Twyst Academy. So when that key was not forthcoming, I got curious. As it turns out, the entirety of this building is not on Twyst Academy grounds. It shares space with an unknown landlord who also owns a wide swath of land surrounding the academy. A perfect bordering square, almost. A box, if you will.”