by LeAnn Mason
“I’m glad you escaped your sadistic family, Al. You are blossoming into the badass bitch—no pun intended, Ebony—that I knew you were. Fear wasn’t a good look for you.”
“I couldn’t shake that fear, Mae. I was so scared that Seth or Griffin would figure out that you were the key to what they’d been trying to achieve for years…”
“What was that?” We paused, letting another couple enter the diner ahead of us, grabbing the door and holding it aloft for an exiting group who all acknowledged Allya with a slight chin dip. I heard more than one “Scarlet Huntress” being tossed around. The girl had made quite a name for herself in the six weeks or so she’d been in Grimm Hollow.
“What are you smiling at?” Allya grumped, uncomfortable with the attention. At least some things didn’t change.
I shrugged off her question, posing mine again. “What did they want to do to you?” I asked as we shuffled into the bright and bustling space of the diner. Being peak dinner time, there were very few open seats, lots of noise that all melded together to make a kind of human symphony. Glasses clinked. Silverware rubbed and thunked against ceramic plates. Words blended together into a kind of chittering until a bright, sharp, or heavy tone broke through the din to make itself known.
“Break me.”
Allya’s proclamation shattered the spell, and my head jerked to look at her. Was she serious? She waved brightly, moving toward the server girl we usually had. Bianca waved us into a prime booth at the far side of the restaurant against a bank of windows that was perfect for people watching. The couple who had entered before us looked a bit put out by our preferential treatment, but I knew nothing would come of it.
No one wanted to tangle with the Scarlet Huntress.
Or her Sentinel boyfriend who, upon second glance, was already seated on a pleather cushion, a huge plate of fries and a juicy-looking burger being navigated toward his rather handsome maw. The exact same meal sat untouched on a plate to his right, for Allya.
“Aw, look at how sweet your man is,” I jeered, following her toward our seats and dodging workers and patrons to reach it.
“Shut it. He’s just as much of a dick. Promise.”
“What are you snickering at?” The dick in question asked me as I slid along the empty bench across from my lovebird friends.
“What? Didn’t order my food, too?” I chided playfully, choosing to talk around his question. The smirk gracing his chiseled features told me he got it. The quick wink he threw confirmed it. Allya’s cheeks were so pink I’d have thought she went a little crazy with the blush, but no, my friend still had no idea how to deal with being liked. And that broke my heart for her.
Again.
Maybe a change of topic would be the bestie thing to do. I turned a smile on the wolf. “Jason, what’s the deal with vampires? Marie said they’d withdrawn but not anything else.”
The sudden lack of activity warned me the subject may not have been the best to breach in public. Sheepishly, I released the fry I’d stolen from Allya’s plate and dropped my eyes to the bare tabletop before me, slouching as much as possible in the given space.
Maybe I could disappear? That would be better than having the whole of supernatural society judging me around their meals for one ignorant question.
“We can talk later,” Jason answered lowly, shooting a daggered scowl around the crowded surrounding tables. All occupants were riveted on where I failed to hide myself underneath the scarred diner table. “How are you holding up?” he asked once his point appeared to have been received, the human symphony starting anew.
I appreciated it even more after the lengthy silence. Bucking up, I pushed the frames back into place at the apex of my nose when Bianca’s smiling countenance graced our tableside. I was the only one without a plate, so only one menu was deposited, which I perused. I was hungry, but nothing sounded overly appetizing with my stomach still in knots, so I decided to order something that usually helped perk a person back up. Soup. Per Bianca’s hearty approval of the broccoli cheddar variety, I ordered a bowl of soup with a hunk of asiago to dip in it. With a wink of a blazing blue eye, the enigmatic girl traipsed back through the throng of patrons toward the kitchen.
“The bruising doesn’t look too bad. Damn, I cannot believe that bitch had the nerve to attack you… and inside the estate,” Jason fumed in confused vehemence. He was truly mystified by the girl’s behavior, which was funny. Did he not know women at all? I cut my eyes to my best friend where she sat happily stuffing her face with the meal he’d obviously known she’d want.
He knows something about women. At least, that one. “I’m fine.” I shrugged off the concern, realizing only then that there was no sting from the places there had been previously. If he was to be believed, my cheek didn’t look too bad…
My fingers gently traced my cheek where there had been evidence of Risa’s attack that should have been on full display, but only smooth skin lay.
Allya.
“Did you heal my cheek?”
“Huh?” Allya looked like a deer frozen in the light of oncoming headlights. If the deer was attempting to masticate a rather large mouthful of cheeseburger. I didn’t know if she hadn’t heard the topic of conversation because she’d been too engrossed in her meal or if she was playing dumb. I thought about my time after the lioness’s onslaught. Combed through each event, sliding it mentally out of the way once it proved non-magical.
One moment, the moment we’d met up at the Archives, slid to the fore. Allya had cupped my face in her hands and closed her eyes, bringing our foreheads to rest against one another. I’d wrapped my hands around her wrists and closed my eyes as well. I thought we’d been taking a moment to be grateful nothing more extreme had happened in those dark halls, feeling grateful that the other was still alive, well, and with us. In retrospect, she must have done a spell, one like she’d spoken in the car the other day when she’d healed the scratches from the rose thorns. This time, she hadn’t spoken out loud, or if she had, it was nearly silent.
“You healed me again. Holy poo, Al. Every time I see you, I glimpse why you're so amazing.”
“It was nothing. A simple spell. Any Witch could do it,” she insisted with another comically flushed face. “Gloria thinks the only one who couldn’t is Sasha. Though I’m sure that girl has some serious awesomeness waiting to show itself.”
The new name distracted me from listing Allya’s nearly innumerable attributes. “Who’s Sasha? Have I met her?” I didn’t recall meeting anyone by that name.
“If you haven’t been to the Coven House, then I’m pretty sure you haven’t met her. She’s like the servant of the place. She’s young though and… different.”
“Different? Isn’t everyone here “different”?” I even produced the air quotes. I was pretty sure I was one of maybe a handful, at most, of those in Grimm Hollow who weren’t different. At least by normal standards.
Then again, wasn’t that all reversed now? Everyone else was normal, and I was different? Standing out in my absolute lack of ability to do anything magical. Although, after witnessing two of Rory’s spontaneous shifts, maybe my power was being able to walk away unscathed even without any said magic.
CHAPTER 20
“Did you have a good evening?”
I turned to greet Rory from my usual perch, having been happily meditative, ensconced among the greenery. “I did, thank you. How was yours?”
“Interesting.”
“Was it now? And why is that?” I perked, wanting to know just what constituted an interesting evening for a manic Shifter prince.
“I spent most of the night going through every song I could, doing the homework you’d given me,” he smirked.
“Every student needs homework,” I parried.
“Someone’s got spunk this morning… and looks mended.” Bright eyes perused every inch of me he could see. My skin pebbled in response as if he trailed a gentle finger seductively across my body. From my cheek, down my neck, across
the top of my shoulder… along my arm.
My whole body tingled, a compulsory shiver wracking me from head to toe.
From a look.
Holy Hell, I’m in trouble.
Completing my recovery with a cleared throat, I righted my glasses before daring to meet those irises again. “So… you were telling me about your interesting evening. Did your homework yield any results?”
“I find it interesting.” He was totally mocking me. “That you always recover from being thrown off by fixing your glasses and speaking extra nerdy.”
He looked so proud of himself, all puffed up like a strutting peacock when my jaw dropped as I floundered like a beached whale. What an astute, and wholly disliked, observation. Color me surprised. I fixed my gaping expression into a droll stare, making sure to meet those molten chocolate peepers that, apparently, saw too much.
“Aaaaand… your homework,” I growled, my good mood fading. Why did I think I could have a good day? Queue morose thoughts.
I missed my family. My mom’s harried routine while preparing for work. My dad’s absent-minded humming while he stooped over whatever portion of dinner he was taste-testing. My sisters’ catty teasing of me.
I missed all of it.
I missed all of them.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Rory asked, taking the rest of the bench with his bulk, making sure a shoulder bumped me as he lowered himself.
“Sorry, nostalgic this morning. But never mind that. Tell me what you learned. Did anything make you feel lighter? Any songs distract you, and hopefully the lion, to a point where you felt a little… freer?” I needed some tunes right now. I had so many that I knew would get me out of any funk.
Remembering the gifted phone and the fact that I'd loaded music onto it via Allya's account I pulled the older model unit free of my pocket to peruse.
“Am I that boring this morning? You'd rather play with your phone?” Rory's haughty disbelief once again poked its disgruntled head out to scold me like a lash.
“Nope. Just realized that this was undeniably a music kind of day, and you didn't seem inclined to share any with me, so I'm taking care of it.” Pressing play, I dropped the phone to my lap, breathing in everything I loved in this garden as the piano's somber notes drifted into the open space and swelled to fill it.
“It's a bit gloomy, isn't it?”
It was a rather melancholy song but one I loved nonetheless.
I am fine.
It was kind of a mantra on bad days, and even though the tune wasn't upbeat, it always helped to even me back out.
“You're lovely like this,” Rory murmured, bringing a finger forward to tuck a wayward lock of hair, which hadn't made it into my braid this morning, behind my ear. The contact, light though it was, seared a path where he touched.
I was caught. Totally ensnared by this male, and losing all faculties in his presence was becoming an all-too-regular occurrence. As the last notes of the song drifted on the breeze, I attempted to recover my faculties, but it was like his aura pulled me toward him. He was a magnet I was helpless to avoid.
A sudden thumping of drums startled me out of my trance, doing what I'd struggled to do for myself. I reached to turn it off, my mood effectively moved from melancholy, but Rory stopped me, his large hand wrapping soundly around my petite one.
“Don't turn it off. I like this song.”
“Is it one that helps?” It was a fun and upbeat song in stark contrast to the one I'd just played, but I tended to keep my lists on random, knowing that, generally, I liked variety.
I also loved songs with humorous lyrics. I remembered seeing the music video for this one. Kind of a parody piece with people running around in president masks that made me love the chant that much more.
“It might now.” The tone, more than the actual words, pulled my attention to Rory. What I found perplexed me. He looked at me with a bit of a naughty twinkle, if I interpreted the look correctly, his eyes bright and thoughtful. Mouth pursed slightly like he pondered something, but one crease was notably absent.
His brow wasn’t furrowed. The smooth, tan skin between his groomed brows showed zero creases. In complete opposition to his demeanor since I’d barged in on his sacred, and private, sanctuary, he seemed unburdened, playful, maybe even… lustful.
I had to be interpreting that wrong. The only way Rory Leone, the heir to the Shifter throne, would be interested in me would be if I were being chased naked through the streets by his followers. And even then, his only goal would be to stop the frenzy. He’d probably show them all up and take me down first. Hardwired to be superior described Rory.
“You helped me learn something, Beauty. Music, the right music, is soothing for me.”
I couldn’t help but beam. An experiment worked! But that was only the beginning. Now we needed to continue my experimentation, further it. I yanked out the pen from its spot safely tucked within the metal spiral binding of the unopened notebook, flipping through the scribbled pages until I lit upon one that was as yet unmarred by my chicken-scratch.
My writing tended to suffer when I became hurried or agitated or tired. Okay, so my writing style made me more appropriate for a doctorate than any other singular thing.
I felt Rory’s observation over my shoulder, his hot breath at my neck where my fishtail braid exposed my neck to the elements… to him.
“Your heartbeat is racing,” Rory breathed airily. His inflection implied he had zero clue as to why, but his smirk belied the ploy. “Are you scared of me?”
I had to contain the shiver tingling at the base of my neck. The little hairs stood at full attention, wanting nothing more than to have the rest of their brethren join a sincerely ill-advised version of the wave that would only contain one undulating body.
Would the lion take advantage of my weakness? How did Rory get close to anyone if his animal was so willful, so… alpha? Maybe some girls got off on being dominated. Is that how it worked in the Shifter world? Was it solely about procreation?
“Do I scare you?” Rory asked again, scooting closer, testing his boundaries and my reactions.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed thickly, a pathetic attempt to re-center myself. It was no use with Rory so stinking close. With him—was he sniffing me?
My eyes flew open of their own volition. Holy… wow.
“Umm, no.” A completely believable lie. Or not. I watched the god among men where he sat mere inches from me. He looked… languid, uncaring almost. Such a far cry from our other encounters, I had trouble reconciling the sight with what I knew of Rory Leone. He leaned against the bench’s back, arms stretched wide, the thick ropey appendages soundly reaching from one wooden corner to the other. One foot perched across the knee of the other as he blinked lazily at me, a smirk that did funny things to my insides spread across his stubbled jaw. The little hairs did nothing to hide the strong shape of his features or that dimple in his chin.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Mae.”
I had so much to fear from him, just maybe not in the capacity he thought. “Let’s test your new-found tranquility, shall we?” I choked out then righted my glasses again.
The action caused a rumbling sound of amused approval from within Rory’s ample chest, the sound resembling a… purr?
Do lions purr? Why’d he do it now?
It didn’t matter. “Let’s go see if you can be around anyone if you have your music hiding in your ear. Do you have any earbuds? Bluetooth, preferably?” I really needed to stop looking at him. His current demeanor would be the death of me if for no other reason than because I would die of mortification when I threw myself at him, only to be swiftly rebuffed. It had to be a game. He was feeling his oats this morning because he saw a light at the end of the tunnel.
“We’ll start with someone easy. Would your mother, or perhaps one of the staff, be better?”
The tension lines were back, marring that glorious forehead. I fought to contain my hands. One wanted to reach over and smooth tho
se lines away, the other prevented it. I had no idea why it mattered so much to me. Sure, Rory was gorgeous, but he was hardly the first gorgeous guy I’d been around.
Well, scratch that, maybe he was. I never got close to anyone in Winchester, the exception being Allya, so I never had cause to be in close proximity to the high school gods. Unless it was for tutoring, much like now. The thought doused my fire with a heavy dose of cold water.
This was a job. I was only interesting because I was teaching him something. I was useful. To a point. His mother clued me in to that fact.
Remember that, Mae. I underlined that little ditty in my notebook. “Do you have a preference, or should we just wander around until we find some poor unsuspecting schmuck?”
“Schmuck?” he chuckled. “No, there’s a little fox shifter that works the estate. She’s a good balance, I think.”
“Good. Great. Do you have any headphones so we can give it a shot?”
“You just want to test your hypothesis,” Rory grumped. Easing to a stand, he faced me, formally extending his hand. In a slight bow, head dipped, he looked very regal… if you looked past his comfy casual attire, which was once again punctuated with those ridiculous house shoes.
I didn't know if I could trust myself not to do something stupid if I took his hand. What if I tripped over myself, or him, and sprawled in a messy heap to the pathway? What if, when yanked, I went flying into his strong embrace, and blinded by his smoldering stare, I attacked him—with my lips?
“What are you thinking so hard about?” He asked with a laugh. Taking the choice out of my hands, literally, he snatched me up with the quick yank I feared. Time slowed as I approached him, waiting to see if my foibles would be realized. “You good?”
I was. I hadn’t done anything stupid unless one counted the ridiculous way I stared up at him. Those molten eyes missed nothing. He knew good and well how he affected me.
