“Do you keep in touch with your aunt?”

“She passed away two years ago. Heart attack at age fifty-six.” Studying her water glass, she swallowed against the sudden burn in her throat. “In many ways, she was my mother. She’s the one I remember being there through all the skinned knees, awkward growing pains, boyfriend drama, and fights with best friends. She’s the one who took me shopping for my prom dress, styled my hair, took pictures when my date showed up. . . . Losing her was the saddest day of my life.”

One of Kalen’s hands reached across the table and covered hers. “You’ve had your share of loss. I’d give anything to change that for you, but I’m a Sorcerer, not a god.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, more than you know.”

He paused. “So, did you always want to be a doctor?”

“Since I was a kid. I used to make dad and Aunt Gena sit for hours while I ‘fixed’ them with my plastic doctor kit. It would be years before I realized that you can’t fix everyone, no matter how hard you try.” Crap, she hadn’t meant to say that last part. And sure enough, his curiosity was further piqued.

“Yesterday you asked me if I ever wondered why you left a perfectly good practice, came way out here in the middle of Bumfuck, and devoted yourself to studying paranormal creatures. And the answer is yes, I do wonder.”

His hand was warm and comforting on hers, his expression open and encouraging. Unlike the tense, smirking stranger from earlier, this man cared. This was the man who held her heart.

She took a deep breath. “I suppose it doesn’t make a difference telling you, since you could just Google my name and easily get the story.”

“I’ll do that if it’s better for you not to talk about it.”

“No, that’s okay,” she said, giving him a tremulous smile. “I was a psychologist, and a pretty good one, I thought. My practice was successful and I was content, if not totally happy and fulfilled.”

“No boyfriend?” he probed.

“No one serious. I was open to finding someone special, but it was just so hard with me being married to my career. My practice was going so well, I got caught up in complacency. Forgot exactly who I was dealing with—people with problems. Serious ones. A couple of my patients were extremely disturbed, but I wasn’t too worried. I was good, you know?” He didn’t miss the self-deprecation in her tone.

“What happened?”

“I was attacked by a patient, in my office,” she whispered. The memory still chilled her to the bone. “There was no warning. One moment we were having a nice conversation and he appeared fine, and the next he’d knocked me out of my chair, pinned me to the floor, and almost strangled me to death.”

“My God,” Kalen said hoarsely, eyes wide. “How did you manage to fight him off?”

“I didn’t. I lost consciousness, and as I did, I believed I was dead. I thought of my dad and how grief-stricken he’d be to lose his only child, especially like that. Then I was gone. I woke up in the hospital and learned that my secretary had heard the commotion and run in to investigate. She and a couple of patients from the waiting room subdued the man and called for help.”

“Jesus Christ.” His face reflected the horror she had felt back then. “I can’t imagine how terrible that must’ve been for you.”

“It was. I never returned to private practice. Just the idea of being responsible for someone else’s mental health, having all of that suppressed rage explode at me again . . . I couldn’t deal with it, so I ran. Back to school to become a physician’s assistant, and then my dad helped me get the plum assignment at the compound when it opened, just as you guessed.”

He flushed. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t deserve your position or that you had it easy. I was just being a dick.”

“Yeah, you were. But I accept.” She gave him a small smile, letting him know he was off the hook. Almost. “So, why were you being mean?”

“It’s complicated,” he said, gaze dropping to the table.

Just then the waitress returned with their food and set down the plates, giving Kalen a thorough once-over as she did. “Anything else I can do for you?”

Mac’s blood pressure rose, anger simmering.

But he barely glanced at the woman, then shook his head and answered politely. “No, thanks.”

Taking her cue, the waitress left to see about other customers. The tension in Mac drained as quickly as it had come after seeing the girl devour him with her eyes. Maybe it was ridiculous to be jealous of a man who’d rejected her, but Mac couldn’t help how she felt. The way her hormones were starting to kick in, a certain Sorcerer was damned lucky he hadn’t responded to the bimbo.

“Mackenzie? Hey, where’d you go?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You. Gonna let me in on why you’ve been such a jerk to me lately?”

“Ouch.” He winced. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth.”

“If the attitude is simply to keep me from stalking you or something, you can relax. I haven’t been following you around begging you to change your mind, and I won’t.” Not that she didn’t long to leave her pride in the dirt and do just that.

“I’m the one who should be begging for a second chance,” he said quietly. “Are you gonna make me do that? Should I get on my knees?”

She stopped twirling her spaghetti and her heart lurched. “What?”

“I got scared and I ran from you. I’ve fucked up in so many ways, you can’t imagine.” Setting down his fork, he rested both elbows on the table, clenching his hands.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked, barely managing to keep her voice steady. What she wanted to do was grab him, drag his body across the table, and kiss him until he passed out from lack of oxygen. Common sense told her to use a bit more restraint.

“You shouldn’t. I’m a horrible prospect, honey.”

“Because of your past? You know I would never hold that against you. That’s not who I am.” She touched his hand. “You did what you had to do in order to survive.”

“It’s not the past I’m worried about.” His expression was agonized. “I’ve done something I’m so afraid I can’t take back. I’m up against a force I don’t know if I can fight, much less win.”

“Tell me.”

“I . . .” His inner struggle waged war on his face, and his eyes were bleak. “I went—” Suddenly he grabbed his head, grimacing in pain.

“Kalen, what’s wrong?” she asked in a low voice, glancing around to make sure nobody else had noticed.

After a few quick, shallow breaths, he lowered his hands. His skin was pale and he looked shaken. “I can’t tell you. He won’t let me.”

Fear washed through her like ice water. “Who? Malik?”

With apparent reluctance, he nodded. “Yes.”

Beginning to connect the dots, she gripped the edge of the table. “This is the one who’s giving you meaningful counsel, helping you feel empowered?” she asked in a low voice. At his miserable nod, the dread intensified. “What’s this bullshit about him not letting you tell? What has he done to you?”

“I can’t explain right now. I wish I could.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Strained silence was her answer. “Is this the part where you ask me to trust you?”

“I can’t ask anything of you, honey. But I’m hoping you do.”

“Why should I?”

“Because without you—” With a sharp intake of breath, he stood abruptly, holding a hand under his nose. “Sorry. Be right back.”

Mac stared after him as he retreated, presumably in the direction of the men’s restroom. Slumping back in her seat, she let out a sigh and tried to calm her racing pulse. Malik was sinking his claws deeper into Kalen every day, and her Sorcerer was losing ground. This was bad. So very, very bad. Did Nick know how far the alliance had gotten between the two of them? He must have some idea. Would he follow through with his threat to execute Kalen? She couldn’t bear thinking about that.