“Your eyes are green now.”

Warmth returned to the space, but it had tempered compared to before they’d talked about their pasts. “I’d be surprised if they weren’t, given there’s a breathtaking woman in my bed. Wearing my clothes, no less.” He held up a hand. “Before you waste the question, you were out for a few hours — enough to bring you here and the healer to do her business.”

Ronnie fiddled with her hands. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “It’s your question.”

He scooted closer. “Was that your only time, Ronnie?”

She put her head in her hands. “That’s your question? Really? You could ask me anything.”

He coaxed her chin back up. “It is. This seems the most pressing topic. We’ll have time for the rest.”

“It was, ok? Go ahead and laugh.” She sniffled again.

Earnest disappeared into the bathroom and came out with a roll of toilet paper. He offered it to her. “This should put any ridiculous notion of me having a harem to rest.”

Ronnie took it with a chuckle. “I suppose so.” She blew her nose. Earnest took another square and dabbed at the fallen tears on her face. The motion brought him closer to her again, enough for her to feel his body heat. She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “You said you were in Paris, on task.”

“I did, yes.” He frowned. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Who were you working for?”

Earnest scooted back, still close enough to touch, and sighed. “I believe you’re acquainted — Vent.”

Ronnie could only squawk — that certainly demanded more than a one-word answer.

Grinning, Earnest continued. “That old dragon sent you after me for a reason, Ronnie — what’s that human complaint? That planars are taking human jobs?”

Ronnie nodded, not sure where this was going.

“Well, in this case, it’s the other way around. I suspect the reason Vent scooped you up when he did, Rainmaker, is because I’d just walked out.”

Ronnie’s mouth dropped open. “So you were …” she trailed off.

“Vent’s personal assassin before you, yes.”

Ronnie’s mouth quirked. “So when you said ‘best assassin’ earlier, you meant me, right?”

He chuckled. The sound was a low rumble that made Ronnie squirm slightly. “I don’t believe it’s your question. Although, I will point out that you needed the healer after that yeti and not I.”

“I wasn’t armed properly!”

“Wearing that dress? I have to disagree.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Tell me, have you ever orgasmed?”

Ronnie couldn’t stop the blush from rising. Surely, it had spread down to her neck. She huffed. “I’m not a prude. Yes, of course I have. Are all your questions going to be about sex now?”

Their eyes met again, and there was a beat before Ronnie muttered, “Fuck.”

“Yes, that was a question, my dear Rainmaker.” His fingers twined in her hair, but she didn’t pull away. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Quite possibly, yes. Do you want to kiss me again?”

“Yes,” Ronnie said. “Doesn’t mean I should or will.” 

Earnest huffed against her skin. 

She gritted her teeth. “Is this a thing for you? Charity cases for little broken humans?” 

He stiffened but otherwise didn’t move. Fingers still in her hair, mouth near her ear. She shivered, the warmth from the barest contact seeping under her skin. When he answered, his voice was cool. “Contrary to popular human belief, not all planars are hedonists who can’t control their urges. I’ve never fucked out of pity, and I never will. And Amelia wasn’t broken. Neither are you.” 

He chuckled then, and she swore she could feel him roll his eyes. “The underwear you found belongs to my sister — she does laundry here when she visits. And I haven’t taken a lover since Amelia died.” 

“Wh—” 

“Not your question.” His lips brushed her neck. “You fear intimacy, the only thing that explains why you’ve never been with anyone else. Why?” 

She tried to move away from him, somehow ending up closer. Somehow, he was on the bed beside her now, but aside from his hand gently playing with her hair, he didn’t touch her otherwise. Fine, let’s just get it all out then, she thought with a growl. Then maybe he’ll drop it and we can talk about something relevant. “It made me feel weak. I can’t afford to be weak. I have to keep my sisters safe — to do that, I have to survive working for Vent.” 

She shrugged, faking more nonchalantness than she felt. “When did Amelia die?”

“About six months before I left Vent’s service.” 

The asshole was making her read between the lines, but it was an easy equation. Vent was far above working without a personal retainer. She’d been gone almost thirty years then, almost as long as Ronnie had been under Vent’s thumb. 

“And you aren’t weak — you were young and searching for a connection. Everyone does, planar or human, and everyone makes mistakes. Those mistakes don’t shape us unless we let them.” 

“That wasn’t a question, and I didn’t ask for a fucking therapy session.” 

“Are you afraid I will make you feel weak?” 

Ronnie laughed. “You already do. I barely know you, and you unbalance me, and I can’t get away from you if I tried. I feel your magic every time you touch me, more so when I use your magic or…” Her mind raced to the kiss, the show, and shook her head. “How much of our attraction to each other is just the bridge?” 

Earnest sighed. “Ronnie.” He leaned back, studying her face for a moment — she turned away from his piercing gaze. “The bridge between us connects our magic. We are feeling the fundamentals of each other’s souls when you draw from me, so we cannot avoid it.”

“If what made up your soul was a starving desert or a dark, frozen cave, it wouldn’t attract me as it does. Your power may be alluring in its own right, but all magic is flavored by those who wield it. If you were someone else, shaped by a different life, cast down a different path?” He shrugged. “It would be business and nothing else. A bridge cannot create desire. And beautiful as you are, pretty flesh has never been enough to lure me.” 

Ronnie didn’t look at him. “That’s all great, but you didn’t answer me, not really.”

“You could consider it manipulation, I suppose. The bridge has allowed us to strip through what would be years of getting to know one another and to understand each other. Odds are without it, we may have never had the patience to learn one another enough to be attracted beyond the physical, on which neither of us would have acted, given our histories.” 

She folded her arms across her middle, his shirt and the sheet tangling around her as his fingers toyed with a lock of her hair. Despite herself, she was curious. “How…do you see my soul?”

“Impatient,” he murmured. She rolled her eyes, but Earnest just smiled. “Do you fear I’ll have sex with you and then throw you away?” 

Ronnie was pretty sure he already knew the answer from the rest of the conversation. “Pretty much, yeah.” 

He didn’t hesitate, nor did he give her shit for her short answer. “Your soul is lush, Ronnie, a forest of ancient stature. Despite being ravaged by time and circumstance and pain, it grows and flourishes and welcomes… a harbor. Emerald and rich, unexpected beauty tucked in each corner, mysteries by the same hand. Not unlike the woods of the elder fey planes, and even more remarkable to be grown from seeds not sown by an immortal.”

“You’re fleeting, just as all humans are, yet your soul stands unabashed by limitations, tall and proud, unafraid of the danger ever present at your borders. You will be everything you can until the moment you die. Nothing less would suffice, and the landscape of your magic reflects it.” 

He leaned closer, his lips hovering above hers now, and she swallowed, his eyes verdant and deep, the green the deepest she’d ever seen in his gaze. His voice was hushed now, almost awed. “I’ve never felt as much peace as when you pull my soul into yours. A gift, truly, to taste what defines you. I would bathe in it, lay down and rest, stay as long as you’d allow me. “Will you allow me?”

“I … I don’t know.” She licked her lips nervously. The description he gave threw her. Ronnie knew the forest of her own soul, obviously, but she’d never thought about it in those terms. She’d tasted his soul through the coin and would have thought his fire and heat would destroy her forest, but it hadn’t happened.

“I think we can agree I’m capable when it comes to magic and violence. Your initial capture of me notwithstanding, of course.”

Ronnie nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Not a liability, then. Nor is it a weakness or a threat to you and yours.”

She shook her head. He was right, and she knew it; Vent wouldn’t tolerate anything else. “You keep talking about your honor, your word. How much do you truly value that?”

Earnest pulled back slightly. “You should know this, Veronica Taylor — my word is my bond, and the only thing that I have left of that previous life. I would sooner die than break it.” He paused. 

Ronnie felt compelled to lean forward and put her hand in his hair. There was nothing stopping her, besides her own fucking insecurities, so she threw caution to the wind. She may end up being the fool later, but that was nothing new.

He smiled at her touch. “My family situation is … complicated. Anya and I ran when we could. It’s a long tale, which I promise I will tell, but we ran because we couldn’t stand the rigidity or expectations of grekelhind nobility, especially our high ranking. We wanted a life for ourselves. So when I say I value my word and my honor, I want you to understand the full gravity of that.”

“Oh my god.” Ronnie was stunned.

Earnest paused again, smirking. “My family is also under the impression we’re dead. Accessing any of my former resources or associations comes with significant risk.”

That was another easy equation. He’d stuck his neck out just because she suggested it. Yes, they were bound by the bridge, and yes, he was already at risk. He could have directed her elsewhere or refused. He hadn’t.

They sat.

Fuck, they were probably going to die on this stupid quest, anyway.