The City of Crows

by Bethany Anne Lovejoy

  “I wasn’t planning to sign the book,” I insisted, feeling the heavy weight of Leo’s eyes joining hers.

  “You were,” my mother said, “I can tell, Lyra. Just as I knew with my lamp, just as I knew when you told me you would never return to Magictown; you have always been an awful liar.”

  “Maybe I could sign it,” Leo said, his head resting atop mine as we waited at the bus stop, voice breaking the quiet calm that I’d enjoyed just moments prior. His hand drew circles on the back of mine, the slightest frown playing upon his lips. “Maybe that’s how this is supposed to work, maybe if I don’t take the power then he’ll feel bad for me and give me a reduced cost.”

  “Maybe you could get into a fiddle fight with him,” I mused, half awake. Words scrolled across the sign beside us, there was half an hour to go before the bus from New Haven would arrive.

  He laughed, his voice deep and familiar as he turned his face to my hair, pressing his lips against my scalp. “Do you think he’ll still let me have a fiddle of gold if I win, or is that offer off the table these days?”

  “Well gold’s not worth as much as it used to be,” I yawned.

  “Does it hurt, having your soul torn from your body?” He asked, his voice sounding innocent.

  “I don’t know, we should ask Rowan.”

  “Do you think if I really beg,” he smiled, leaning back into the bench, “Rowan will heal me?”

  “I think if you really beg, he’ll kill you instead,” I snorted, patting his leg in mock sympathy.

  “You know, I have a life insurance policy,” Leo noted, “and if you’re willing to fight my mother and her four sisters…”

  My pats turned into a slightly harder slap as I pulled away from him completely unamused, face set in a deep frown. “We’re going to figure it out, Leo. Don’t talk like that. I’ll do it if I have to, in a heartbeat, I’ll—”

  “But I don’t want you to, Lyra,” Leo said, pressing his chapped lips against my forehead. “I don’t want to die, but I don’t want you to trade your life for mine either. I’ll figure it out, I promise you, I’ll figure it out for us. If figuring it out is just accepting that I’ll be gone, then I’ll do that instead.”

  “But you heard my mother, she said it could possibly work, you don’t have to go—” My voice was louder than I intended, more desperate. My eyes fought back the tears as I nestled closer to him, wishing that I could fix this. I would do it. I would trade everything, I would—

  “It should be me,” Leo declared, “I’m the one who came into your life, I’m the one who crossed the stars. I should be the one to sign my soul away, if that’s what it takes. I’ll pay the price, whatever it is.”

  I turned to him, unable to think of any other way to convince him otherwise. My hands adjusted his coat, pulling his lapels downward so that the woolen jacket would lay upon his shoulders once more and accidentally wrinkling the front of his beige turtleneck in the process. “Give me longer,” I said, “just another few days to figure it out, to fix things.” I smoothed the front of his top underneath my hands, feeling the pounding heart that laid just beneath his chest with the lightest pressure. “Maybe there’s a potion, or a spell, or something my mother didn’t think of. I mean, she’s a professor, but she can’t know everything.” I sighed, inhaling the sweet scent that followed Leo wherever he went, placing my forehead against his chest so that I could still feel his beating heart. “And just give me tomorrow to be with you, Leo. Just tomorrow, and then we’ll figure it out.”

  His hand rose to the back of my head, smoothing down the mess of blonde hair as he cradled me closer. Once again, his head rested atop mine, chest rising and falling beneath me. His hand slowly wrapped around my waist, holding me closer, as if this would be the last time we would be together. “Okay,” he agreed, though his voice was uncertain, not trusting that I would not do anything else. Warmth, the blessed warmth of his soft lips bestowing a grateful kiss to the crown of my head. I could tell that he wanted nothing more than that day, that promise of simplicity.

  And I desperately wanted it too.

  “I love you, Lyra,” he said, unaware of how cherished those words were. I loved him too, wholly and completely. Far too much for my own good. I loved him enough that I knew, as soon as he looked away, as soon as he was out of sight, I would send those fateful words to Rowan, and I would prepare to sign my soul away. A demon had sent this man to tempt me, and he had been successful.

  21

  One Last Day

  A clattering awoke me the following morning, the sound of plastic hitting hardened wood coaxed a groan out of my body. Immediately, I flipped to the offending sound, finding a wall of skin in the way. My arms wrapped greedily around it, pulling the half sitting form back against me and away from the offending object, a sigh escaping my lungs as I buried my face in his back. Initially, he stiffened at the contact, but then he shifted in my arms, turning around to face me, his body pulling me into his chest tightly, head resting softly on top of mine.

  “Mhm,” I responded, gratefully settling in against him, his heart beating softly underneath my cheek. “Morning,” I was still not used to the act of waking up beside someone, not after so long. Leo’s arms, though unyielding and solid, were a welcome addition to my morning routine. I kissed the bare skin underneath me, enjoying the way that his chest felt underneath my head.

  “Good morning, Lyra,” Leo’s voice responded, his fingers running through my hair, careful not to pull at any knots that might come up. “It’s noon, you’ve woken up quite early,” he joked, a half-hearted, mock sense of pride in his words.

  “I was promised a day,” I beamed into his chest, “so I came to collect it.”

  “By spending half of it in bed?”

  “With you,” I clarified, attempting to push away from his chest so that I could see his face. His unmoving arms stood in the way, locking me into place against him even as I huffed and tried to pull out.

  “If that’s all you wanted, we could double down. I could spend the whole day with you in bed instead,” he chuckled, his leg draping over mine, the cotton of his boxer shorts brushing against my inner thigh.

  My toes curled, the offer seemed tempting, but not tempting enough. “No, I’m going to cash it in in other ways,” I said, the idea of sleeping the whole day away seemed almost sad. “I want to spend time with you; cook, draw, and watch movies. The things that normal couples do, just for one day.”

  “Ah, normal couples,” Leo breathed, pulling away from me so that I could see the smirk playing upon his features. “So, the things that people do when they aren’t a cursed man and a young witch?” I couldn’t help it, not upon seeing the twinkle in his eyes at; I grinned too, my hands pressing against his shoulders to push him back even more, so that I could take in the expression on his features.

  Soft lips collided with mine, forcing my eyes shut as I enjoyed the moment. Leo, Leo, Leo; that was all that was on my mind, all I could think about since the very start. “You taste like mint,” I told him as he pulled away, my finger gliding across his jaw.

  “Would you believe that I’ve had multiple mornings today?” Leo asked, his hands drifting down my skin until they cradled my hips.

  “You should have woken me up.”

  “I tried,” he smiled wryly. “At one point I even promised food, home-cooked food, but you didn’t budge.”

  “Is that offer still on the table?” I asked with a stretch, reaching over to the table beside me to check my phone for the time. Strangely, I found it empty; I looked over to Leo’s side of the bed, the one nearest the entrance, and saw my white phone sitting there unplugged. I must have forgotten about it the night before, waiting for Rowan’s response.

  “Of course,” Leo said, distracting me, his arms bringing me back into the bed as he shifted over me, his body on top of mine as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of my neck. “Couldn’t have you cook; I’ve theorized that Lydia didn’t have the time to teach you to make much else
other than boxed macaroni and cheese and lunchables.”

  “You might not be wrong about that,” I admitted, shifting beneath him. His body on mine was, disappointingly, only a momentary comfort. Leo rolled off of me, hand brushing aside messy hair as he climbed out of bed with a yawn, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin that had for the most part remained out of view; a distraction if one ever did exist.

  Still, as he straightened and began to stride to the kitchen, unaffected even by his frighteningly cold floors; I couldn’t help but roll over, hands reaching for my phone. Expectantly, though I promised myself that I would not make the day about it, I unlocked my phone with a simple star pattern, flicking to Rowan’s message. A reaffirmation, a time and a place, the statement that he thought this was for the best; tomorrow, tomorrow would be the day.

  There was so much relief in that, I thought as I looked over to Leo, surprised to find his eyes on me. He stood in the kitchen, a plain white apron pulled over him, a frying pan already beginning to sizzle on the stove. Warmth, never-ending warmth laid behind those eyes. When facing him, I also didn’t notice that my phone sat at ninety-eight percent.

  “So, you’re an amazing artist and you’re secretly good at cooking,” I began, pointing my fork in his direction, the bit of French toast that was balanced on top of it falling back to the plate. “Are there any other superhuman traits you possess?” I joked, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Aside from being cursed,” I clarified before he could bring it up.

  “I wouldn’t call this good cooking,” he said, not knowing that even the simplest recipe could impress me. Between scholarly research, grading theses, and holding office hours; french toast would have been a luxury in my house. I was lucky that Yvie was capable of cooking and sharing at the same time. “You know, I can’t remember a time where my mother didn’t make me help her cook. That’s why all of this take-out seems like a luxury.”

  “Take-out is a luxury,” I admitted, “I lived off of microwave food before, but thanks to your savings from commissions, I think I’ve eaten at nearly every restaurant in the city.” I grinned, taking another bite of French toast and relishing in the way the cinnamon played on my tongue mixing with the thick, sweetness of maple syrup before stating, “If I ever become rich and famous, I’ll commission you to make French toast and nothing else.”

  “A good use of my skills,” he said, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Though, somehow I get the feeling that I’ll be making it for you for free.”

  “It’s because you’re generous.”

  “Too generous,” he said, pressing his sticky lips against my shoulder.

  I laughed, swaying into his touch if only to quickly push his mouth away. I’d definitely need a shower if he kept it up. He leaned in once again, unswayed by my motions, his lips aiming for the space beside my mouth. I clenched my eyes shut, ready for the sensation when the quiet tinkling of my text tone hit the air once more.

  He pulled back at the same time I jerked, his lips pressed into a thin line as I apologetically unlocked my phone and checked the messages. Rowan again, his text worded differently. Actually, I think we’ll see each other soon. My eyes narrowed, brows furrowing as I scooted to the edge of the couch, typing my response. Rowan was normally direct, vague messages never suited him, not in the long run.

  “Everything okay?” Leo asked, leaning back on the couch. “Is there a problem, or...?”

  “Yeah, it’s just my mom,” I was getting more fluent at lying. I hit the send button, flipping my phone over onto its face, knowing that, as it was Rowan, the response would take some time to come either way.

  “Mhm,” he breathed, once again at my side. There was something different about how he moved then, how his lips just barely brushed over my skin but did not stop anywhere in particular. He was once against at my shoulder, my neck, and that delicate place inbetween; relishing the way heat pooled on my skin as he drew lines across it. He was exploring my reactions and memorizing them at the same time.

  And I let him. I fell back against the couch with no effort on his part, relaxation claiming my body as he climbed over me. Hard teeth raked against me, moving lightly over my collarbone in a way that made my breath hitch, his mouth nipping just slightly at the area. Over and over again, I couldn’t help but think to myself about how nice it was, how different it was from Rowan’s mouth playing upon my skin, forcing reactions and taking whatever he wanted. With every motion, Leo asked for permission, allowing me to inch my body closer and closer to his as he explored.

  Clad only in his old t-shirt with him dotting kisses across my exposed skin, I could picture an eternity like that. Close, but not close enough, always straddling the line. For some reason, that was more exciting than finality, than definitions and certainties. I think that’s what I liked about Leo, that I had to keep reaching these check points before I knew where to go next. Save Leo, what comes next? I didn’t need to know yet.

  With Leo, everything was an adventure. His mouth upon my neck, his hand inching higher and higher on my inner thigh, the way that he reached and pulled my shoulder closer to him. Every sound, the soft squeaks and low moans that traveled across my body, only urged him forward. He was a selfless lover, one who lived only to give. God bless the selfless.

  My skin tingled beneath his, my body sighing happily as his lips caressed mine, mint replaced by the sweetness of maple, his hand traveling to dangerous places in a way that made my back curl into him. Lips, first gentle then demanding, became but a haze in comparison to the sensation between my thighs. His fingers moved nimbly, mapping out the details. I could have stayed forever in that moment, teetering on the edge between the world and the symphonies of pleasure that were slowly building.

  Good morning, Lyra, his body seemed to hum as my arms wrapped around his neck, desperately pressing him closer. His tongue pressed past my lips, catching my gasps and internalized exclamations.

  Then, far too suddenly, he pulled away, teeth once against biting softly, this time just above my breasts as his hand slowly slid down my thigh. His head continued to travel, lower and lower. My eyes widened, hands tightening against the green velvet of his couch. Please, that’s what should have escaped my lips the second the offending fabric of my panties was pushed out of his way, lips bearing down on my sex. The slightest motion of his tongue and I was in bliss--

  But of course, my phone went off once more.

  I groaned, furiously picking up the phone, seeing Rowan’s name, and then slamming it back down. I didn’t need to see anything else from Rowan, not now. The tittering of birds that I’d oh so helpfully chosen as my text tone had ensured that the mood was gone.

  “Mothers always have really good timing, don’t they?” Leo said, resting his head against my hip, turning his face so that his lips pressed close, tantalizingly close, but not close enough. Still, his eyes were curious, as if asking me what she could possibly want. I supposed that made sense.

  “One of those typical mother messages,” I lied. Though, Lydia Wynne had never sent one of those in her life. “I heard it was going to rain today, Lyra, I hope you replaced that old jacket of yours. Fashion is never functional,” there, that sounded closer to something she would say. Perhaps a bit too affectionate, but closer.

  “You can use one of my jackets,” Leo winked.

  Seven p.m. the large clock in Leo’s living room read as he prepared yet another cup of tea, the water boiling in one of those retro teapots that he told me his mother hated.

  He was busy in the kitchen, scooping tea leaves from the metal tins that sat beside his sink and into the glasses before me, powders and dried flowers combining into unique blends of the drink. In another life, Leo should have owned a tea shop, though now that I’d had his coffee, I’d say he also should have a significant part of the menu dedicated to that as well. I’d asked for something to keep me up, and though coffee seemed like the obvious choice to me, he’d reassured me that this was far more preferable, there were teas
with a higher percent of caffeine. I didn’t know anything about that, so I agreed, having absolute faith in him.

  We’d watched one movie, just as I’d wanted, but I still wanted more. A whole day was not a whole day when I happened to sleep until noon, and the tiredness that consumed my body was a frightening developement. I’d hoped that Leo’s tea would bring me back to reality, back to him. I needed to stay awake. Tomorrow, god knows what I’d feel, but today? Today I wanted to be Lyra, and I wanted it to be me with Leo just a moment longer.

  “Lost in thought?” he asked, pouring boiling water into my cup, but not his. He picked up the coaster that his was meant to sit on, turning it over so that it sat atop my cup and to keep the steam from escaping. Apparently, this was meant to steep longer at a certain temperature.

  “Just thinking about you,” it was the truth, though he couldn’t know why. Leo was a consuming force.

  “That’s a little worrying,” he said, taking in my expression. He leaned over the counter, his forearms taking his weight as his hand took mine within it. His fingers danced across mine, as if he was inspecting them for a moment, an almost wistful look slipping across his face.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I promised, leaning forward to press a kiss against his cheek.

  “Mhm,” he agreed, withdrawing from me, his eyes drifting back to the cup of tea beside us. His hand played upon the handle, contemplating for a moment.