Page 49 of Roguefinder

I ignored it.

His mulish expression grew. “Being a seer is what stopped the Council from killing me. Everyone keeps saying I’m rare. What good is magic if I don’t use it?” He stared at the invitation, something new in his eyes. “What if it fades again? I might⁠—”

“Okay,” I said quickly. And I rubbed his knee so he’d look at me. “You’re not going to lose your gift, all right? I promise.”

The panic I’d glimpsed dissipated, but uncertainty lingered. His swallow was audible in the quiet kitchen. “Maybe it won’t work a second time.”

Leaning forward, I snagged the invitation. “Let’s try it. I’ll be here with you.” Anything to make the fear of rejection in his eyes disappear.

He looked at the parchment. “When in doubt, move your ass.”

“What?” I asked, mystified and charmed as always.

Caleb flicked his gaze up. “Something my football coach used to say.”

“Ah.”

He drew a deep breath that lifted his big shoulders. Then he plucked the invitation from my fingers.

His eyes went distant almost immediately, the sky blue draining to the pale shade of his wolf. But his breathing stayed even this time, and his hand didn’t shake. His eyes fixed on a spot over my shoulder…then darted back and forth. Quick and precise. Left and right.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

I tensed, worry gripping me tight.

He blinked, and his color rushed back faster than before.

“Fuck,” I muttered, grasping his shoulder. His skin was clammy under my palm, but his eyes were clear as he offered a weak smile.

“Such a potty mouth, Professor van der Meer.”

“I earned that one. How do you feel?”

“I’m good.” He tossed the invitation onto the table and looked at it. “We were at Carlo’s place for sure. I saw more of it this time. You were in a dark suit jacket.” He turned back to me, blue eyes twinkling. “You looked good.”

“What else?”

“That’s it. Just the two of us sitting next to each other. I heard Francesco but I didn’t see him. Everything around the red box was blurry.”

Resignation settled over me. “I guess we’re going to the opera tomorrow tonight.”

A spark of his usual mischief flickered in his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suit.”

The feeling was mutual, but I could think of about a thousand more preferable settings than Carlo Gesualdo’s opera house. I sat back and rubbed a hand over my mouth. “I hate this.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’ll run it by Stefanos, but I assume he’ll order us to attend. If Carlo wanted to kill us, he wouldn’t advertise it.”

“At least my magic is working. That’s a good thing, right?”

“It’s a good thing.” But he’d gone somewhere else just now. Somewhere I couldn’t follow. I pushed the hair off his forehead, my fingers lingering at his temple. “You scared the shit out of me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed the top of his bare foot over mine. “I’ll make it up to you.”