Affinity

Chapter 4 - Nathan

Nathan headed in the opposite direction. But once he was well out of her range of visibility, he masked his presence again and doubled back to track her. He stayed out of sight, keeping just close enough to catch glimpses of her through the trees and the brush.

When she made it back to the clearing where they had fought, she slowed her progress. He watched with mild amusement as she bent over the stream and tried to spot her discarded dagger. Of course, he knew exactly where it was. He wasn't one to toss the enemy's weapon without an idea of where he was tossing it. And while she was heading in the right general direction, she was far enough away that he was confident she wouldn't find it that night.

Sure enough, after searching the water for a long while, the cold and her own frustration seemed to get the better of her. After a moment, she blew out her breath and straightened. She wrapped her arms around herself, shook her head, and turned away.

The farther she walked, the more certain he became of where they were headed. When he finally saw the house through the thinning trees, he fell back and observed from a stationary viewpoint.

He watched her hesitate before she broke through the tree line. She cast long, slow glances in all directions making her paranoia obvious. Gone was the woman who had been so at ease in the forest earlier that night, so carefully guarded and confident. Now she was an open book. Any reserve he may have had about her authenticity diminished. Miss D'Amour truly was afraid of discovery.

He crouched down and sat back on his heels to observe her through the brush. What had he gotten himself into? And it was all because of an intoxicating temptation that he had known better than to have given in to.

He looked back up at the mystery of a woman before him, and he watched her square her shoulders and finally walk out into the open. She scurried across the lawn and disappeared into the house with no chimney smoke. He counted a full minute after hearing the faint click of the closing door before he stood and moved to leave.

He had to give it to her. She had guts. She was incurably stupid, but she had guts.

In any case, whatever consequences might come would be hers and hers alone to deal with. Based on this unexpected turn of events, especially now that he saw that his co-conspirator did not have a believable poker face, he would be forced to forego his seaside holiday and cross the Channel much sooner than he had planned.

By the time he reached the stream, he had almost persuaded himself that he owed the witch nothing more than his oath of silence. Sure, she had saved him, but he wouldn't have needed saving in the first place if it hadn't been for her. He didn't owe her anything. He didn't.

But she did save you, and you're the one who went sniffing around a witch.

He kicked at the ground in frustration. What could he do, anyway? He had seen her at the edge of her own yard. She was clearly in the middle of falling apart. She would get herself caught sooner or later. He certainly wasn't going to stay around long enough for her to drag him down with her.

She could do that anyway.

He cursed at the thought. True enough, she might still decide to go back on her word. And he had allowed her a good look at him, had even given her his real name. If she decided that the only way to save herself was by giving him up to her coven, they would have all the information they needed to track him.

Well, then. He would simply have to make sure that didn't happen. He would stay long enough to determine Miss D'Amour's circumstances with her coven and ensure her resolve wouldn't waiver.

He stopped walking when he reached their battle site. In addition to the disturbed ground and displaced grass and patches of moss, the place was stained by magic. It hung heavily in the air, prickling the hairs on his arms and back of his neck. More than anything, the thing that really bothered him was how close he had come to death.