He walked over to a table that was scattered with tied bits of weed and herb and several stoppered vials. He swung off his black Mage’s robe and slung it over the back of the chair. Leaving a smoky black haze in its wake.
“Why does it do that?”
“The haze?” He said absentmindedly as he took off his hat and put it on the corner of the chair before slowly beginning to unbutton his vest.
I found myself easing to the far side of the room and trying to distract him with talk. “Yes.”
“It’s not the robe. It’s me. My magic leaves a film. Like frost.”
“Why?”
He turned that blue gaze on me. “Do you truly care or you just buying time to put furniture between us?”
I found those keen eyes inescapable. I swallowed hard.
“Why am I here?”
“For my pleasure.”
“But you said-”
