In the end, it was the threat of rain — and the growling of empty stomachs — that drove us from the garden.

Lunch ended up being not at an elegant, five-star restaurant, but — at Juhan's insistence — a tiny, cramped cafe tucked between a dry cleaner and a tax office. The food was, of course, amazing.

I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd been there before. After all, he was so proud of his off-the-beaten-path discovery, and I was fairly certain neither Brendan nor Kasimir even knew the place existed, let alone had chanced dining at it. Better to let the out-of-towner have his smile.

And Juhan was smiling as held the door open for me, hazel eyes gleaming with good humor. I hadn't been the only one to enjoy my lunch.

Outside, the sky had opened up to release a steady, light drizzle. He had an umbrella ready, unnecessary as it was. I wasn't made of sugar; it would take a lot more than a little water to make me melt. Still, I ducked under the dark canopy. If nothing else, it was an excuse to walk close to him, shoulders brushing with each step.

Truthfully, Juhan wasn't… poor company. In fact, once we'd gotten off the topic of mages and Catalysts, he was a pleasant enough conversation partner. Apparently, we shared a taste for Thai food, as well as an appreciation for reality baking shows despite neither of us having the slightest inclination towards or talent for baking. And, despite our disagreement on the inclusion of nuts in cake — Juhan thought it was delightful to have crunchy bits in an otherwise soft dessert, an opinion which was clearly wrong — we did manage to agree on a dessert, though Juhan absolutely ate more than his fair share. Some men.

Now we walked in easy silence, listening to the patter of rain against the umbrella set against the backdrop of the hustle and bustle of weekdays in the city.

"So," he started hesitantly, steps slowing as we ambled down the sidewalk. "Would you really get in trouble?"

I frowned, pausing to look up at him. "In trouble for what?"

Discomfort lent a hint of warmth to his brown skin. "With Brendan, for not following orders."

"Can't get that out of your head, can you?" I chuckled.

Juhan frowned, then shook his head. "It's foul. No one should ask that of anyone, let alone a mage of his Catalyst. But the way you talk about Brendan… I don't want you getting in trouble after I've left the city."

"Do you find me attractive?"

He froze, then swung around to face me directly. "Severine…"

"Do you?" I insisted.

I watched his mouth twist, form a flat line, then twist again. "Yes, you're my type."

"Your type," I repeated, my mouth pulling into a smile. What was that, exactly? Petite brunettes? Skeptical women? Catalysts? Did it even matter? It's not like we had more time together; there was only this one day, already more than half gone, and then life would return to how it had been before.

Perhaps that's why I went with my impulse. "So kiss me."

Hazel eyes flared wide as Juhan stared down at me. "What?"

"Kiss me," I offered again, letting my smile grow. "It's just enough of a rule violation to meet the spirit of Brendan's request, which means it should be enough to keep me out of trouble." And I couldn't remember the last time I'd been kissed. A year, maybe more? Part of me craved that physical contact, even with a mostly stranger whom I might never see again. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

He licked nervous lips. "And what do you want?"

"Kiss me," I repeated for the third time, studying the conflict brewing in those pine-and-amber eyes. Desire like a dark undercurrent, anxiety like flickering embers. Was kissing another mage's Catalyst as taboo for him as kissing a mage who wasn't my Wielder for me?

Did he like that it was taboo?

Eventually the desire won out, because he reached up, sinking long fingers into my hair. "You really mean it…" he said, but it didn't quite sound like a question, his voice already sliding lower. Juhan stepped forward, herding me back into an empty doorway. The umbrella dipped, angling down to hide us from the street. Then his head was dipping lower, closer; I felt his fingers curl around the back of my neck, the smooth metal of a ring settling against my skin. "Severine."

Then he was kissing me.

I'm not sure what I had expected. Maybe something timid, uncertain, fleeting. Or something slow, careful, safe. What I definitely had not expected was Juhan kissing me like a drowning man gasps for air, a rush of need so desperate it felt primal, like a spark of desire hitting oxygen and flashing over into roaring flame. His mouth was so hot against mine, his lips so demanding they burned. He didn't deepen the kiss — no teeth, no tongue — but he didn't need to, either; by itself it was an explosive thing, and I suspected only the fact that he needed to keep holding the umbrella kept him from wrapping that arm around me and hauling me tight against his body.

My hands suffered no such restrictions. Fingers tangled at the back of his neck, curled up to cup the base of his skull, hold him to me as I luxuriated in all the kiss had to offer. It had been so, so long. Dormant parts of me crackled to life, igniting hungers that had been long since banked, a need of my own that seared through me. I was kissing him back, then, my mouth melding against his, my body pressing against his, all too aware of the lean muscle in his hands, in his chest, in his lower body.

Without meaning to, I'd activated my Catalyst power, and I felt it thrumming through me like a steady blaze, spilling down my veins like liquid heat. I was warm, so very warm, my skin flushing with it, because there was nowhere for the power to go, no spell to funnel it into, only the mage in front of me, and I hadn't learned him, didn't know how to offer it up to his foreign magic. Deeper down, that arctic sea at my core reacted, started to rise, to spill upwards—

Juhan tore his mouth away, and I gulped down a lungful of cool afternoon air. Fire and water both fell, tumbling back to whatever inner landscape they had emerged from. I could still feel heat in my cheeks, but that was just a blush, just pink skin to go with the too-wide eyes.

He was gasping, staring at me with wide eyes of his own. "Severine, I didn't mean to…"

"Don't." My hands grasped the lapels of his coat, though what they really ached to be doing was stripping the clothing from his body, ordinances against public sex be damned. "I might not be kissed like that for another five years, so don't you dare apologize, or say you didn't mean it. If I wasn't a Catalyst…"

"I would drag you to the nearest hotel and kiss every inch of your body like that," he finished for me.

A stab of hunger speared low in my body. Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and do exactly that, but at least a fraction of my brain still managed some inkling of rational thought. Brendan might forgive me for sleeping with a mage under his orders, but he would never forgive Juhan for sleeping with a woman he knew to be Brendan's Catalyst. And he had to know, now, test or no test. The words killed me, but I said them anyways. "You can't."

"I know," he murmured. Juhan's head dipped again, but this time it was only to press a tender kiss to my forehead. "It's a crime no one kisses you like that, though."

Shit. Something rose behind my eyes, and it wasn't my Catalyst power, or that strange icy ocean. It was a different type of moisture entirely. I swallowed hard, then dropped my face to bury it against the front of his coat. I would not, damn it, I would not…

The hand at my neck dropped down to my waist, and Juhan simply held me against him as I fought with my own emotions.

Eventually I got myself under control. Rain still pattered against the umbrella, and I was all too glad for the dark arc of fabric that blacked out the rest of the world. For the rain, which I could blame for my smudged mascara.

Imagine, me, having a breakdown in public. Brendan would have a fit. He'd once restricted Aeliana to the office building, with no access to the outdoors, for two weeks after she'd had a tantrum in private, witnessed only by Brendan, Kasimir, and myself. I didn't want to think about the repercussions for a public meltdown.

"You okay?" Juhan's voice was too gentle, sneaking right through the defenses I'd just started to rebuild.

I shook my head. "Don't be kind. You're only with me today, and I can't get used to kindness. It won't be there tomorrow."

He frowned, but nodded. "Do you want to head back…?"

I shook my head again. "No. We still have a few hours before we're due." I wasn't ready to go back. I needed a little more time to get myself in order, to straighten out my inner workings before I faced Brendan again. He was too fond of poking at any chinks he could find. "Let's go to the museum?"

"Of course." Juhan stepped back, releasing me. He lifted his arm in offering. "Whatever you want."

After a brief pause, I curled my fingers around his forearm and nodded.

---

By the time we made it back to Brendan's office, most of that hollow ache — and the needy hunger that had come before it — had been stuffed back into their corresponding boxes. I was back to being Severine, wearing my smile as a defense against the world, even if it was as empty as a suit of armor.

Lucky thing, too. Brendan was waiting for us, almost posed behind the polished walnut of his desk, broad shoulders framed by the tall back of his executive chair. Blue eyes flashed up as Juhan and I entered the office, a smug grin already sliding over Brendan's lips. "Enjoy your day out and about?"

I left Juhan to answer, automatically moving off to the side and taking up residence at one end of Brendan's desk. The same spot I'd gone to when Juhan had first arrived. I knew better than to give Brendan any reason to question my loyalty.

"Of course." Juhan settled into one of the two empty chairs in front of Brendan's desk, casually resting one ankle against the opposite knee. "It is a lovely city."

"And Severine?" Brendan lifted a brow.

"A lovely Catalyst."

The curl of Brendan's lips deepened, somehow managed to grow more arrogant. "And you're certain of that?"

"Absolutely." Juhan glanced at me, then turned his gaze back to Brendan. "I would stake my life on it."

"And hers?"

Juhan blinked. "Excuse me?"

Brendan lifted both his brows. "Would you stake her life on it, Juhan? You know I can't harm you; that was part of the negotiations for your visit. Your father was most insistent upon it. But Severine is mine, and I can do with her what I like. I could drive a dagger right through her heart if you turn out to be wrong. So, what do you say?"

Only Brendan could manage to stay cheerful for that entire speech, as if he were discussing nothing more consequential than his favorite cut of steak.

In contrast, Juhan's smile had inverted, the corners of his mouth tugging downwards. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, controlled. Too controlled, I thought. "She is a Catalyst, Brendan. There are few laws among our kind, but first among them is that we do not kill Catalysts. Not even in battle."

A peal of laughter burst from Brendan as he leaned back in his chair. "Calm down, Juhan, I just had to be sure you were certain of your results. Besides, you're right. She is the real thing, even if she's mostly useless at it. Which brings me to my next question: Did you fuck my Catalyst?"

Outside, a siren wailed.

Juhan opened his mouth to answer, when a second and third siren joined the chorus. The first three were all the electric wails of police vehicles, but the fourth — and soon fifth — that joined them were the crescendoing, mechanical cries of fire trucks. More joined in, sirens laying on top of sirens until I'd lost all sense of a count, other than at least one full fire station and what sounded like two police precincts were suddenly dashing out onto the city streets.

"What is that?" asked Juhan, partially lifting out of his seat, eyes aimed at the bank of windows behind Brendan's shoulders.

Brendan waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing to be worried about. I have a subordinate burning out a nest of vampires who thought they didn't have to play by my city's rules. Just an unfortunate industrial fire, as far as the official reports will be concerned."

Juhan sat back down, brows still twisted, dubious. "I had heard you didn't harbor any fondness for vampires."

"They're vermin," Brendan answered, tipping his head as he listened to the sirens as they drove away from the city center. "Vermin who scuttle about in the shadows and offer hidey-holes to minor mages trying to escape their duties. Can't be tolerated. Won't be tolerated, not in my city."

"I see," replied Juhan, keeping carefully neutral. I was beginning to suspect he had a less-than-neutral opinion on the topic, but his father wouldn't have sent him if he couldn't play at ambassador. My own smile didn't so much as wobble throughout the discussion, even at the proposal of my death, though I doubted Brendan would have noticed either way. He was too busy concentrating on Juhan.

Leaning forward, Brendan laced his fingers together on top of his desk and gave Juhan another bright grin. "So did you fuck her?"

Juhan immediately shook his head. "No, Brendan, I did not sleep with Severine."

Brendan spun in his chair to look at me, gaze sharpening. "Did you fuck him, Severine?"

I met his piercing blue eyes with a blank look. "No, Brendan, I did not."

"Did you offer to?"

Technically… "Yes, Brendan, I did bring the topic up."

"Excellent!" Brendan swung back to face Juhan. "You're dismissed, Severine. Go home. We mages have business to discuss."

I bowed my head, watching Brendan through the fringe of my lashes, but he'd stopped paying any attention to me. The glee in his eyes was entirely for Juhan — or, rather, for the prospect of being able to identify new Catalysts, even if they weren't interested in being identified. As I turned for the door, I let my vision sweep over Juhan. And what would he do? Sign a deal with Brendan? Delay until he could discuss the matter with his father? Deny it entirely?

Hazel eyes met mine, if only for a half-second. I thought I caught an edge of concern, but then they were swiveling back to Brendan.

Masculine voices rumbled behind me as soon as the door settled in its frame, too muffled to make out the words.