His eyes narrowed, fully aware she was trying to needle information from him without actually giving up any of her own.

“Toward civilization. Back into the modern world,” Griffin said.

That made sense. “He can’t get to us in the cities, not without walking in as a human, like Aya did. There’s too much man-made stuff all around. Too much below the surface. That would be my guess.”

Griffin scratched at his face, dark growth shadowing his cheeks and jaw and neck. “Exactly. I’m wondering, though, why he came after you in the canyon. Why not attack when you started out? Why even let you get that far?”

She looked at him quizzically. “How would he have known what I was doing?”

The pause before his reply was long. “I have no idea.” He frowned. “You’ll have to stay fairly close to me when we’re inside the mist. It’s harder to maintain at a distance, less effective.”

Exactly how close? Because being this close to him already was rather unnerving. “But if the earth elemental comes back, wouldn’t you be able to feel him coming?”

“Not until he was practically on top of us. Or below us, as it seems. Now come closer.”

She moved to within six feet and he threw up a veil of nearly invisible mist, wrapping it around them like a blanket. Its surface caught the light at certain angles, making tiny rainbows.

Concentrating, he shook his bent head and waved her in. “I need you closer.”

Three feet.

He visibly relaxed, the strain of the magic lessening and the faint shimmer of mist tightening around them. He lifted his chin, met her eyes. “Perfect. That’s good.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t look away. “He can’t see or hear us?”

“Shouldn’t be able to. I’ve never done this before.”

“A virgin, eh?”

Griffin cleared his throat and swiveled, facing upstream. “Just keep near me.”

Keko wanted to resist the order out of habit and pride, but as he started to negotiate the stony, irregular bank of the stream, she couldn’t help but notice how his ass and legs looked in those shorts, and thought, No problem, sir.

As they walked, she could hear him murmur in his language every now and then, altering the mist, testing it. His voice sounded as tired as the droop of his eyes and the downward slant of his shoulders made him look, but he never said anything about fatigue, never complained.

Midday they came to a small waterfall, tucked into where the land shot upward and sloped far back, stretching all the way to the majesty of Mauna Kea. Here they’d have to climb out of the ravine in order to hike to the road and thumb a lift into the nearest town, but just the thought of scaling the rocks at that moment pulled on her shoulder wound like a hundred-pound weight. This weakness was abhorrent, but she knew she had to listen to it or else risk more serious injury.

Griffin was also peering up at the climb, his thumbs hooked through loops on his vest. They lowered their heads at the same moment, catching and snagging each other’s gazes. Now would have been the perfect time to lose him. He wavered on his feet. Caught himself. If she pushed herself up those rocks right now, even in his weary state he would follow. He would follow until his legs snapped off.

“A short rest?” she said, shouldering off her pack.

He regarded her, then stretched out a hand to create a narrow divide in the sheltering mist, parting it like it was made of silk. He touched the element like a lover.

That was the way it was with him. Griffin, the unmovable Ofarian leader with the iron gate pulled down over his life, who’d been frenzied and borderline harsh when they’d fucked in exactly the way she’d demanded, was the very same Griffin who could smooth his hands down her skin in the way he touched the mist right now.

For a brief moment in time, she had been his element.

No matter how strongly she told herself to look away from him, she couldn’t. That lack of control took large bites out of her concentration.

“All right,” he said, pulling back his hand and letting the mist close. He removed his pack and vest and carefully set them at his feet, but did not sit. “I can use the waterfall to power some of the magic while we take a break. Won’t drain as much energy from me.”

With a simple Ofarian word, the mist veil arched up to merge with the waterfall. It domed outward to encase the tumbling water and the wet rock ledge on which they stood.

Keko stared at him and his beautiful magic like an idiot. A weird, unwelcome emotion bubbled up from inside her, and it had nothing to do with fire.

She couldn’t believe that the two of them were standing alone together near a hidden Hawaiian waterfall. She couldn’t believe that Griffin Aames had come here specifically to keep her from doing what she most wanted to do, but then had sworn on his beloved stars to give her information to help her move forward. He was far too beautiful and far too frustrating for her own good. And even though she desperately wanted to, she still shouldn’t trust him.

Mighty Queen, this was all so fucking confusing. But nothing more so than the fact that she still wanted him.

She remembered the day he’d stalked into the garage in Colorado, how suddenly and powerfully he had made her feel again after three years apart. How she’d tried so hard to shove her want and need aside, to project an air of steel toughness, and what the aftermath of that rejection had made her do.

This man was like war to her: dangerous and exciting, strong and deadly. He carried emotion on his back like a weapon, hitting her with blow after blow. Sentiment weakened her, weakened all Chimerans. She couldn’t afford that. Not now.

With a nod to the shallow pool frothing at the base of the waterfall, she said, “You mind if I take a quick dip? I think it’ll wake me up.”

Something shifted in his expression, and she recognized it for the desire inside herself that she was really shitty at hiding. She’d never been one for pretending, for covering things up. In the Chimeran valley you said and did what you wanted, and the outcome of those words or actions made you what you were.

But Griffin . . . Griffin threw everything out of whack.

Wanting or needing to fuck was one thing. Carrying around a soul-deep passion, a severe longing, for another person—and not just their body—was so foreign to her. By the look on his face, maybe it was strange to him as well.

He was pretending, too.

She flicked open the snap on her frayed jean shorts. Griffin’s eyes dropped to the motion, his jaw tightening.

“I still can’t be too far away from you to keep up the spell,” he said.

“Then sit right there on the edge of the pool. Turn your back if you want. Or don’t.”

She let her shorts drop. Griffin’s expression turned pained, his eyes squeezing shut as he turned around. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You’re a smart man. I’m sure you do.” She pulled off her bloody and tattered tank top no longer remotely resembling white, then reached over her shoulder to rip off the bandage.

Naked, she stepped down into the pool and sank into it, surrounding herself with his element. Loving the coolness of the water as it lapped against her hot, hot skin.

“I’m in,” she said, lowering herself enough for the water to make a wet line across the tops of her breasts. “You can turn around now.”

He didn’t.

Conflicting thoughts battled inside her head.

I want you.

I doubt you.

Go home.

Stay.

Turn around and watch me.

To drown them out, she threw water over her shoulders and dragged it down her arms, scrubbing off the dirt and sweat, making her fingertips hurt.

Griffin sat cross-legged, facing away from her, on the lip of the rock. His wide back heaved with a sigh. The damp black T-shirt pulled tightly across his torso, and she could see nearly every muscle delineated underneath.