In response, Mychael tentatively reached out to touch me, but stopped when the air between us crackled with static. The sensation ran up my spine like a warm hand in a velvet glove. Damn, but that felt good. Too good. I held the breath I’d just taken and flattened myself against the back of my chair.

“Stop,” I managed. “No touching.”

Mychael slowly pulled his hand back.

We had touched more than each other’s hands before, but absolutely nothing like this had ever happened.

In that exact instant, Mychael had the same thought; I felt the echo from it flicker inside my mind.

My own thoughts skittered in panicked circles. “I can hear you thinking.”

Mychael sat unmoving. “It’s fading, but I can sense your thoughts, too.”

Damn.

“I agree,” he said.

I hadn’t said it out loud. Double damn.

“Anything like this ever happen to you before?” I asked him.

“Never.” Mychael’s eyes were on mine; they were slowly returning to their normal color. “Was this similar to what happened with you and Tam?”

I hesitated before answering. “Yes… and no. Yes, my magic felt the same as when Tam and I bottled that demon.” I paused. “But Tam didn’t feel anything like you.”

“I’m not Tam.” Mychael’s voice was deeper, huskier.

I swallowed. “I noticed.”

The air between us thickened, and then crackled with pent-up magic, among other things. With visible effort, Mychael pushed back his chair and stood. He put a few steps between us, then turned and leaned against the conference table, crossing his arms over his chest. To avoid temptation, get away from what tempts you. The paladin was back and he had a job to do.

“What happened with Tam in the Quad?” he asked.

“You just saw what happened-”

“Only flashes of image and sound.”

I told him everything, starting from spotting the blue demons in the street, to the elven mage’s murder, to the Volghul.