by H. D. Gordon
Noticing that there was a good ledge around the doorframe, I opened my apartment door and looked around the hallway. It was empty, so I jumped up, gripped the edge at the top of the door, and proceeded to knock out pull ups like a friggin’ American Ninja Warrior.
I’d forgotten how much a good workout could ease the pain in my mind, and I kept going until I felt my fingers cramping and the muscles in my shoulders and back screaming. Now that I thought about it, I could use a good run, too.
I released my hold on the doorframe and hopped down, landing lithely on my feet and bending my knees to absorb the impact.
And I saw his boots first. Looking across the hall, I saw that the handsome stranger I’d met last night was standing in the open doorway of the adjacent apartment, his eyebrows slightly raised but his expression otherwise inscrutable.
I wiped a hand over my forehead, thankful that the redness in my cheeks would appear to be only due to exertion. Rather than trust myself to speech, I retreated quickly into my apartment and shut the door behind me.
“Gotta be more careful,” I told myself as I took a quick shower and got dressed in my most decent clothing, which were just old jeans and a black t-shirt. Not exactly the best attire for job searching, but I did have my Faevian powers of persuasion working for me.
When I stepped outside of my door ten minutes later, hot stranger was gone, and it’d be a lie to say I wasn’t slightly disappointed. I reminded myself that it didn’t matter, and descended the four flights of stairs, stepping out into the still-warm September air.
As I inhaled deeply, I took in the scents of the city; exhaust, garbage, body odor. It was going to take some getting used to, but I’d been taught that human brains were adaptable to almost anything, and I had at least half of one. I laughed at this stupid thought as I crossed the street and wandered up 46th for a few blocks, keeping my eye out for Help Wanted signs.
The first one I spotted was in the window of a small flower shop called Roses. It had to be fate, I thought, as I pulled open the glass door of the shop, a small silver bell ringing over my head.
As soon as I was inside, I knew this was the place I needed to work at. It was just a tiny shop, a square room filled with flowers of all sorts. They hung from the ceiling, lined the front glass window, were kept cool in large refrigerators against the wall. There was a counter with a cash register, and a door behind it opened, and a woman who was probably in her late forties or early fifties stepped out.
Her smile was kind, and I liked her instantly. With light brown hair showing it’s first strands of gray, and kind brown eyes, she reminded me a bit of my mother.
“Hi, there,” she said. “How can I help you?”
I pointed at the sign in the window. “I’d like to apply for the position,” I said, giving my most charming smile. “If it’s still available.”
“It is,” said the lady. “Why do you want to work in a flower shop?”
“I love all things that come from the earth,” I said. “Especially plants and flowers.”
This was not a lie. Faevian kind have a special connection with all life on earth, and vegetation was held in the highest regard. This was also the reason many Fae despised humans. Most humans had little to no respect for the most powerful, most important life of this world; the plants and trees.
This response made her smile, and I found I didn’t have to use my persuasive ways. Many times, raw honesty with folks worked just as well. As did showing a touch of vulnerability.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Seventeen.”
“You go to school?”
“Yes, ma’am. Grant City High.”
“I went there when I was a girl.” She grew silent a moment, considering. “The job is for the evenings, and it’s thirty hours a week. Do you think that would be too much with your schoolwork?”
“No, ma’am. I’m no stranger to hard work,” I said, and then shared another vulnerable truth, which sealed the deal. “I also really need the money.”
She let out a low sigh, and I watched as she made up her mind. “All right,” she said. “But, please, call me Rose. ‘Ma’am’ makes me feel old… You have any experience with flower arrangements?”
I smiled. As a Fae, I had more than experience with greenery, I had a way of communicating with it that humans couldn’t possibly understand. In short, I could speak to the trees, I could heal them, too, though it took a lot out of me. As only half Fae, my abilities on this front were not nearly as strong as full bloods.
“Can I show you?” I asked.
This made Rose smile again, and I decided I liked the way it made her eyes crinkle in the corners. She opened the door to the back room and waved her hand. “By all means,” she said. “And I believe I just hired you but didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Aria. Aria Fae.”
“That’s a strange name,” Rose said. “Very beautiful. Otherworldly, almost.”
You have no idea, I thought. In fact, Halflings were only given a single name, and mine was indeed Aria. The Fae part I’d added to my human documents as a little inside joke.
In the back of the shop there was another long counter and more large glass-front refrigerators containing flowers of all sorts. Clippings of stems and leaves were everywhere, and vases of all shapes and sizes were arranged on a row of shelves.
I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. In here, the stench of the city couldn’t permeate the greenery, and it was the first clean air I’d smelled in the last couple days. Noticing that Rose was watching me, her thin lips pulled up in one corner, I cleared my throat.
“May I?” I asked.
Rose nodded. “I’ve got an order right there, on that pink paper. Go ahead and try to fill it.”
I read the order, chose the materials I’d need, and began putting together the arrangement. I must have finished very fast, because when I stood back to evaluate my work and gage Rose’s reaction, I saw that her eyebrows were touching the ceiling.
“That’s wonderful,” she said, placing a hand on my back. “You’re a natural, Aria Fae.”
“So I got the job?” I asked.
“As long as you can work a cash register and push a broom, yes, you’ve got the job.”
We discussed hours and pay. I would work thirty hours a week, evenings during the school week and mornings on the weekend, and make fifteen dollars an hour. I did the math in my head and thought if I could be really careful with money, this amount would cover my studio apartment and the other things I’d need to survive.
Feeling better than I’d felt in a while, I thanked Rose and exited the shop, promising to return tomorrow morning for my first shift.
Seemed my second day attempting a normal human life was going well. This didn’t alleviate the heaviness in my chest, but having secured a job had lifted some weight from my shoulders, and I was grateful for that.
Thinking I would head home and change into some workout gear and go for a run now that I had the rest of the day to myself, I nearly ran right into someone standing behind me.
When I looked up and saw that it was Caleb Cross, and that taking to my heels now that we’d almost collided would look utterly stupid, I sighed. Seemed my luck had run out.
CHAPTER 12
“Aria,” Caleb said, appearing just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
I nodded and turned to go, but he grabbed my arm, releasing it when I looked down at where he was touching me.
He held his hands up in the air. “I didn’t get a chance to see you after what happened yesterday,” he said. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I forced a smile. It was not that I didn’t like Caleb, but I knew where this conversation would lead. It would lead to questions. And I didn’t want to answer any questions.
“I’m fine,” I said, again turning to go.
Caleb hurried and caught up with me, walking along beside me. “You’re in a hurry.” He smiled, the dimples in his cheeks
appearing. “I gotta tell you, I’m not used to girls running away from me.”
I glanced sideways at him. “I bet you’re not.”
“So why do you keep running away? I haven’t even gotten to thank you for saving my life.”
This stopped me in my tracks, and something about the look on his face told me he’d known it would.
“What are you talking about?” I snapped.
He reached into his pocket and removed the metal drone ball, holding it up in front of me. “When that crazy dude crashed my dad’s presentation? Something hit him before the guards were able to restrain him.” He nodded toward the ball. “I found this on the floor after. I looked for you, but you were gone.”
I gave him a blank look.
He returned it with a skeptical one of his own. “None of this rings a bell?”
I continued walking and shook my head. “I remember the gunman,” I said, “but I didn’t have anything to do with whatever you’re talking about. Sam and I got out of there before I even really saw what happened.”
Again, he hurried to catch up with me. “Then how do you explain this?” he asked, holding up the ball.
I shrugged. “Must’ve slipped out of my pocket.”
He was quiet a moment, but he kept up pace beside me. “You don’t really expect me to believe that?”
“You think me throwing a drone ball at the gunman is more likely?”
Caleb grabbed my arm again, stopping me before I could cross the street and hopefully lose him in the foot traffic. “I just wanted to thank you.”
My eyes were narrowed now, my patience wearing thin. “Really?” I said.
He smiled that charming smile of his, and I was annoyingly less annoyed.
“Really.”
“Fine,” I said. “Then thank me and let it drop.”
“Thank you.”
“Great. Whatever. See you later.”
“Wait. What’s your last name?”
I paused, raising an eyebrow. “Why? So you can stalk me?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s creepy, Caleb.”
“And you’re blowing me off… again.” He ran a hand through his stylishly messy hair, his brows furrowing. “I don’t think a girl has ever called me creepy before.”
“Maybe not to your face,” I replied, using the time to slip around the block, shooting him a half shrug and a smirk just before doing so.
Just before I was out of earshot, he called out, “You still didn’t tell me your last name.”
Without looking back, I said, “I don’t have one.”
It was the first true thing I’d told him.
CHAPTER 13
The rest of Saturday passed uneventfully, for which I was both relieved and pained. I was relieved because I needed a break from the world, and I was pained because the world inside my mind was not the most pleasant of places to be at the moment.
I did manage to get in my run, sure to set out early enough to return well before nightfall, and that helped to regulate my mood a little bit. After that, I pulled my bed down from where it was tucked into the wall and decided to read before figuring out what to do for dinner. I would need to locate a nearby grocery store and stock up on some essentials, as I wouldn’t be able to afford eating out every day—or at all, for that matter. I preferred a home-cooked meal anyway.
Since I didn’t have a phone, or any other electrical devices, I decided I would need to look for food in a different way. There was one window in my top-story apartment, and due to what I was sure were city regulations, there was a rusty old fire escape just outside it that I wasn’t even positive would hold my weight judging by the state of it.
I went over to the window and shoved it up, which took a good amount of strength. There was no screen, and the sounds and smells of the city immediately rushed in. I stuck my head out into the open air, looking up at the ledge to the roof of the building, gaging the distance.
From where I was standing, if I climbed out onto the railing of the fire escape, it was a jump I would easily make to grip the roof’s edge. Then it would only be a matter of pulling myself up.
For most people, the height alone would have been a deterrent, but Fae children were raised in the trees, and they travelled among the highest of branches with an ease inherent to their species. From my Fae half, I’d inherited superior strength, senses, and agility, along with a comfort in high places that was rare among any race without wings.
So I climbed out of the window and onto the rusty old fire escape without much thought on the matter, making sure to test if the escape could hold my weight before fully committing.
Then I climbed up onto the ledge, maintaining my balance with no trouble. I took a deep breath, gave a slight bend to my knees, and jumped up, grabbing the edge of the roof.
I pulled myself up and over the top of the building, rolling my neck once I got there, resting my back against the raised edge of the roof, and feeling pretty good about the rush doing that had just given me.
But then I realized that I was not alone on the rooftop, and my heart stopped. I jumped to my feet. Sitting on a wooden crate near the east side of the roof was hot stranger with the hazel eyes that seemed to burn the things they touched. Or, when they touched me, at least.
He was looking at me now with blatant surprise, and I suppressed a cringe. He’d just seen me climb over the roof of the building, and what normal 17-year-old human girl went climbing over the roofs of four-story buildings?
“I… uh… I didn’t know anyone was up here,” I said, needing to fill the silence that hung between us. I turned back around, ready to hop back down to the fire escape.
“Woah,” he said, standing up, his muscled body drawing my eyes despite my resistance. “There’s a door. Stairs,” he added.
I flashed a sheepish smile, trying not to think about how the sound of his deep voice made my insides twist pleasantly. “Right,” I said. “Doors are cool.”
Resisting the urge to face-palm myself, I hurried over to the door that gave access to the roof, eager to escape before I could look any dumber, and before he started asking questions.
I didn’t quite make it.
“You just climb over the edge of the building and then leave without explanation?” he said. His voice was even, only mildly curious.
I could have just kept on walking and ignored this, but I found myself turning back around to face him. He was a man that a girl just couldn’t help but stare at.
“Um… yes?” I said.
“Um… no,” he countered.
I sniffed at the air, having caught a whiff of lunch meat, and saw that he must’ve been having dinner up here, as there was a sandwich and apple slices on a paper plate beside him.
Stomach growling, I said, “Give me half that sandwich and I’ll give you an explanation.”
His handsome face looked surprised again, and I gathered that it wasn’t often that someone could make him break his unreadable default expression. I swallowed hard when I saw the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
After a moment of staring at me in that way that made me want to squirm, he picked up the plate and held it out to me. “Take it,” he said. “Have the whole thing.”
Eyeing him distrustfully, I snatched the plate from his hands and shoved an apple slice in my mouth, feeling very much like a raccoon that’d just been invited into a kitchen. Going a month without reliable food could do that to a girl.
Now there was an actual half smile on his lips, and he raised his eyebrows in question.
Swallowing down the bite of apple, I said, “I’m a former operative of a super secret organization whose purpose was to keep peace between the supernatural races of our worlds, but I broke my orders and was exiled so now I’m just here, climbing up the sides of buildings.”
He only blinked at me, and I gave a small laugh into the silence that followed. “Kidding,” I said. “I was an all-star in gymnastics, and I like high places. Thanks for t
he food, by the way.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, and that was all. He’d retaken his seat on the wooden crate, and was just watching me with that mild curiosity as I ate.
Feeling super insecure all of a sudden, I spoke again to break the silence. “Do you live here?”
He nodded.
“Across the hall from me?”
Another nod.
“My name is Aria.”
“Reid.”
“That your first name or your last?”
His eyes narrowed a touch. “Last.”
“So you were in the service?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Iraq,” he said. “Two tours.”
I grew silent now, because though I had never been in an army, I’d witnessed battle and war firsthand, and pretty recently, too. I understood how that sort of thing followed you, clung to your insides, changed you and your outlook on life.
“Thank you for your service,” I said, and meant it. Though I was only half human, I’d spent most of my life in the human world, and I considered myself an American. Being so, I held our military veterans in the highest regard.
“You’re welcome,” he said again.
I opened my mouth to say something else, but snapped my jaw shut, tilting my head. I’d heard a sound to the west, felt a vibe that was not ignorable.
He hadn’t spoken again, but I held my hand up to him, closing my eyes so that I could search for the source of the fear and heartache that was strong enough to reach me even up here on the roof.
Focusing my attention on my ears, I heard a familiar voice somewhere in the alley below, and my heart jammed up in my throat. I rushed over to the side of the building, hearing it again, sure now of who it was and what was happening.
“Shit,” I said.
I looked back at Reid, flashing him a weak smile. I didn’t want to do what I was going to do next, but there was no time to do otherwise.
“Thanks again for the food,” I told him, and handed back the plate.
And then I got a small running start and leapt off the edge of the building with the same ease as I’d climbed over it.
