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“Well, since you asked me to teach you about fae powers, here’s your first lesson. No two faeries’ powers are exactly the same. But some of us have ties to the same element. Some parts of nature…sing to us, to our own power. Some fae have an affinity for water, for example, while others can manipulate fire.”
“In other words, fae magic is elemental magic?”
“Not quite, but close. Our magic is not limited to elemental magic, or rather that there’s one element we prefer. A water fae, for example, will be strongest in the presence of water, and the core of her talent will be in manipulating water, and anything to do with water. But she may have magic that has nothing to do with water as well.”
“That means a water fae would still be able to work a spell on someone’s mind, right?”
Isa nodded. “Yes, kind of like that. The elemental part of our magic is the part we are born with. It’s the magic we barely need to study, since it comes naturally. Now, other types of magic, those similar to the magic witches wield, those types we have to spend time to learn, just like witches. Our powers are still far below those of witches, but we are able to learn and wield some magic that goes beyond our natural element.”
“What’s your element?” Basil’s eyes held a speculative gleam.
Inexplicably, she felt the urge to tease him, to be playful. She marveled at the feeling. “Why don’t you take a guess?”
The spark in his eyes, the hint of a smile on his face, both deepened, spread into an expression of interest and appreciation that caught her off guard. He took a step closer, studied her from head to toe and back up again, lingering over the feminine places of her body—which grew hot and sensitive, as if in answer to his visual examination.
The intensity of his regard, the unabashed interest, seared through the layers of her clothes, made her suddenly aware of the overwhelming maleness so close to her. He leaned in, inhaled deeply, as if trying to sample her very essence. She shivered in response, struggled not to sway forward, into him.
“I’d say,” he murmured in a voice pitched so low, so seductive, it invoked images far too intimate in nature, “it’s not fire, or water.”
Unable to raise her voice to speak, she just shook her head, mesmerized by his presence.
He tilted his head and studied her face so closely, she had to lock her knees so she wouldn’t tremble. “Earth?”
She exhaled on a gasp. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Am I close?”
Far too close. But not in terms of guessing her element. His heat brushed against her skin, his scent wrapped around her—he smelled like warm earth caressed by rain, touched by an intriguing dark note. Her pulse sped up, her breath caught in her throat, and desire uncurled in her lower belly. Insidious, unwelcome—she hadn’t wanted a male in years, had been too preoccupied with stalling her curse, and now was not the time to reawaken a long-buried need.
So instead of an answer—or any of the disastrous, traitorous ideas her newly invigorated libido came up with about how to respond to his interest in her—she called to the stone around her, drew the pieces she found close, raised them up and swirled them in the air—and then let go so they could rain down on Basil.
Chapter 9
Basil ducked as small pebbles hailed down on him, covered his head with his hands, and backed away. Squinting at the mischievous fae in front of him, he watched the last of her gravel missiles hit the wooden floor.
He lowered his hands, cocked a brow. “Did you just stone me?”
She had the good grace to look a little rueful. “I let them fall softly. If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have pelted you with them.”
He rubbed a spot on his head where one of the pebbles had hit him not-so-softly. “You know, I imagined the first time I got stoned would be more relaxing than this.”
She frowned. “Relaxing? Isn’t stoning a method of capital punishment among humans? How can it be relaxing?”
“No, I meant—never mind.” He grimaced. Time to change the subject. “Okay, so your element is earth. And the fae who built this”—he waved his hands at the impressive treehouse structure—“their element is wood, I gather?”
“Correct.” She inclined her head, and a lock of her smooth black hair slid over her pointed ear.
“But since your affinity is for earth, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable in a ground dwelling?”
The small smile that stole across her face made his heart beat faster. “You’re quite perceptive. But my element isn’t precisely earth. It’s stone. Which is related to earth, same as wood.” At his frown, she elaborated. “Some of the elements for which fae have an affinity are related to each other, some are not. Fire is its own element, with no relation to others. Earth, on the other hand, is—in a way—a base element from which other, more refined elements originated. Earth gave birth to stone, metal, and wood. Which means earth fae can manipulate those three to a certain extent, but most of their power lies in controlling earth. Stone fae are strongest when surrounded by rocks and mountains, but they also feel at home in earth or forest dwellings, because stone is linked with those elements.”
“And because you’re a stone fae, you don’t have a problem staying in fae houses made of wood.”
She winked at him, and her playful expression hit him right in his heart. He could see it now, could see her element in her gray eyes, the stoic nature of the stones she could bend to her will mirrored in the depths of her calm attitude. Would her character have jagged edges, too, like rocks breaking off a cliff? Which parts of her personality would resemble the smoothness of pebbles polished by years of friction, which parts would be rough and cutting, like fractures forged under pressure? He marveled at the drive, his intense curiosity to learn about her, to explore what made up the pieces of her soul, her heart, her mind.
Plenty of time to find out. Searching for Rose was shaping up to be a complicated endeavor with an unknowable timeline, but at least he had good company. Isa was more than he could have hoped for in a guide through Faerie—not only was she an invaluable resource, and pledged to protect his life, she was easily the most beautiful female he’d ever laid eyes on.
When she smiled, her slate-gray eyes sparkled with surprising mischief, her full lips tempting him to caress them with his own. First time he kissed her—yep, he’d already made plans to do so the second she welcomed that move—he’d take his time and drown in the taste, the feel of her. There was something to be said for the first kiss with a new lover, and he’d enjoy the hell out of that moment.
