"Yes," Ethan says, and the admission disarms her. "And you're correct in believing the book started all this. Believe me, Dawn, I didn't mean to harm you."
"No. You just meant to change me back, to end me, the pitiful cage, and let the sparkly green ball of energy out. Thanks for asking me what I want."
"End you? Why would you think that?"
Because Willow threatened to do that. Her eyes fill as she remembers the terror she'd felt. She'd never doubted for a second that Willow would do it without a moment's thought, or that she could. Sure, Willow apologized since then, any number of times, but Dawn has never felt at ease with her.
"You're trembling." Ethan rises to go to her, but she steps back, puts up the cop hand.
"Stop."
But he already has, halted by her gesture. "Did someone try that? To unmake you?"
"Someone threatened. Someone I trusted and liked."
"And now I've come along," Ethan says softly, "betrayed you in the same way."
"Don't flatter yourself. She was a lot more important to me than you." But it rings hollow. He is important to her, has filled her thoughts for so many weeks. "I thought you found me interesting. Maybe even liked who I am. Now I find out you were just playing with the shiny wrapping paper on the package you were just dying to open."
"That isn't true." Ethan steps toward her again, and this time she doesn't retreat. He takes her hand, and she lets him. "It is true I've been pursuing what you were -- and still are, I believe. But I've grown to care about Dawn very much too."
"You mean the cripple the monks made?" The bitterness she'd meant to put in that question doesn't quite come through. So much of her attention is on her hand in his that it's a miracle she can speak at all.
"I mean the young woman I see standing before me. Who's bright and funny and warm-hearted and altogether too attractive for my own good. I admit I didn't expect that."
Her breathing grows ragged. She should pull her hand away. "You're lying."
Ethan smiles. "I'm occasionally careless with the truth, and I'm never sincere. That's why I'm bungling it so badly right now."
Oh. She can think of nothing to say to that. The response that rises in her is all physical, and it overwhelms everything else.
"What can I do to gain your trust?" Ethan asks.
Heat suffuses her skin, and down below her belly. At this moment she doesn't care about trust. She wants the feel of his mouth, his skin, wants to feel his breath tickling her neck as he whispers things that make her feel wild.
"What happens to me when you get what you want?" Her voice sounds so distant, like she's in a dream. Her words could be those of any girl afraid of being seduced and abandoned. "Do I burn away?"
She feels like she's burning now. If she does not have him, she'll turn to ash.
"Your human aspect won't be harmed. What's been locked away will be released. You'll be complete."
She feels a different kind of release gathering in her muscles and her blood. How can he do this to her, bring her to the brink with a simple touch, his gaze and the sound of his voice? He's affected too, she can see that, but not like her. She wants to cry out, let herself fall, but she forces herself to speak once more. "Something's got to be in it for you."
"Yes." He has not lied to her in all of this. This is what he can do to make her trust him, she realizes, and he's already done it. "I've been hobbled too. I want to be made whole again."
Ethan raises her hand and turns it to press a kiss into her palm. She cries out, lost.