Chapter 29 #2
The wind sighed and trailed down to spin a figure eight around the woman’s tree-trunk-sized legs.
“You’re unhinged,” she said.
The wind snorted. See? What had it told the boy?
He laughed.
The woman blinked again. Then she twisted her hand, and an axe floated over the boy’s head. The wind shrieked and shoved at her.
“Why are you following me?” she asked.
The boy glanced up at the axe and then lifted an eyebrow.
“Answer me or die.”
The wind circled the woman’s legs. She shouldn’t have said that. The boy was having a nice time until she went and started spouting threats. Everyone knew you should never threaten the boy. But the boy surprised the wind when he only smiled, his dimple making an appearance.
“Are those my only two options? Answer or die?”
The axe moved closer.
He smiled up at the axe, then he asked, “Why did you come to the harbor?” And when the woman didn’t answer, the boy added, “I saw you there. In your boat. With . . . Who were you with again?”
The wind climbed the rude man’s limbs and circled over the pounding pulse. Aha. The woman wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.
“Answer me, Ward,” she said, “or I’ll—”
The woman broke off when the alleyway was plunged into darkness. The wind laughed. The boy didn’t need his hands to yank her into the darkness of his mind. Didn’t she know that?
There was a sharp grunt. The wild-whistling sound of a swinging axe. The clang of metal hitting brick. Bright orange sparks. A curse—not from the boy. The stinging, violent vibration of the boy conjuring again, and then the darkness vanished, and the alley was bright again.
The boy smiled, free from the water chains.
The woman—still the rude man—stared, face pale.
What had she seen? What had the boy done?
“I came,” she said, voice tight, “to stop you from destroying the city and killing millions.”
The boy nodded. “Good answer.”
The woman began to back away. “Stop following me. I may not be known by the families, but I’m not powerless.”
She took another step back, keeping her hand extended, ready to conjure.
The boy lifted his hand, and she flinched.
“Wait,” he said.
She stopped, looking toward the entry of the alley then back to the boy again.
“Do you still have the necklace?” he asked, and although his voice was steady, the wind could feel the tremble in it.
The woman tensed, and in her stunned expression, the wind saw the exact moment she realized the boy knew who she was. It felt her galloping pulse, the desire to flee warring with the desire to fight. She licked her lips. “What?”
The boy tilted his head, his golden hair falling across his forehead. “I hope it didn’t break. It was rough there for a bit, wasn’t it?”
The woman’s hand shook. The boy watched her trembling fingers.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I’m not . . .” He stopped and smiled at the woman.
“Have you told anyone?” she asked, and by her voice, it sounded like she thought he had.
The wind sniffed, offended on the boy’s behalf.
“No. Why would I? I already told you, your secrets are safe with me.”
The woman stared at the boy, her gaze so intent the wind felt it slicing through it, penetrating the boy, trying to read his intentions.
The wind sniffed. It could tell her, if she cared to ask. The boy liked her citrus and pearl dust scent. He liked her sea-wave voice. He liked her, even when she was a giant rude man threatening to chop off his head.
“Did you mean to call a tsunami?” she finally asked.
The boy’s cheeks flushed strawberry pink. “No.” Then he asked, “Did you mean to kiss me during the last game?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Yes.”
He grinned.
She scowled. “What do you want, Jacob? Why are you following me?”
The boy shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet. Well, now you’ve seen me. Clearly, I’m okay.” She gestured for him to move on. Go away. “Kindly forget you ever saw me.”
The wind sighed. The boy most definitely would not forget.
He shook his head. “Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because Wards don’t forget anything.”
“I could make you forget.”
The boy snorted.
“I could.”
He laughed.
“What?” she was offended. “Do you want an alliance? Is that what this is?”
“I want my favor.”
The woman held as still as a drop of sunlight hitting a blade of grass. “You what?”
The boy nodded. “My favor. I want it. I’m collecting.”
Aha! The citrus and pearl dust scented woman owed the boy a favor from when he’d given the trickster, hale and hearty, back to her after he stumbled into a Ward cage.
“Your favor?” she asked, frowning.
He smiled, his cheeks staining bright red. The wind trailed over his burning skin. The boy always blushed around the woman.
“Yes.” He bit his bottom lip.
The woman’s eyes narrowed on the boy’s mouth. “Right now?” Her voice was hard, her eyes burning.
“Well . . . yes.”
The woman watched as the boy ran his tongue nervously over his lips, then he ran his hand through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. His pulse fluttered in his throat, responding to the intent way the woman was watching him.
“You want your favor.” When the boy only looked at her, the woman scowled. Then she gestured to herself, pointing at the rude man’s features. “When I look like this?”
The boy frowned, then he shrugged. “What does it matter?”
Her eyes bulged. Then she pulled in a furious breath.
“Fine! Great! Wonderful!” She stomped three steps forward and shoved the boy against the wall.
He wrinkled his brow and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
She loomed over him and pressed her mouth to his ear.
The wind lurched over the pounding of her heart.
“Unlike you . . . I don’t enjoy favors in dirty, trash-filled alleyways. I prefer a bed. Or at least a clean floor. Perhaps a rug. I prefer to be myself. What is wrong with you?”
“Umm . . .” The boy swallowed but didn’t say more, because the woman/rude man was thrusting her finger into his chest.
“Yes. I’ll kiss you. Yes. I’ll go to bed with you.
But it will be in. A. Bed. And I will be me.
Are we clear? And then, after I blow your mind, because you’ve never had and will never have anyone like me again, you can weep sad-man tears at the realization I just exploded your Ward mind, and then you’ll leave me alone.
Okay? Good? When should we do it? I’m busy tonight.
How’s tomorrow? The Regis works for me. Not the Four Seasons. ”
The boy cleared his throat.
“What?” She glared. “You want the Mandarin?”
“I . . .” The boy paused. Took a deep breath. Shook his head.
“What? Spit it out.”
He smiled, but it was a tight, pained smile. The wind didn’t blame him. The woman was strange. Very, very strange.
“I had a different favor in mind.”
The woman’s expression blanked, clearing like a cloud swept from the sky. “I don’t do that.”
The boy hit his head against the brick wall. Thud. Thud. Thud.
The woman shook him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Hmm?” He smiled. “Oh, you know. Just thinking about life choices.”
She scowled.
“I want the lyre,” he said.
Ha! The wind knew it! The boy had wanted the lyre since the Bard’s game. It could entrance armies; it could ensorcell conjurers; it could make men fall in love so deeply they’d do anything for the object of their desire.
“You . . .” The woman paused. Cleared her throat. Took a step back.
The boy nodded. “Could you get me the lyre? From the Smiths.”
“That’s your favor?” The woman/rude man’s cheeks burned nearly as brightly as the boy’s.
“Is that all right?”
She nodded. Slowly. The wind laughed at the heat flushing over her body. Embarrassed. She scratched her chin and the stubble growing there. Then she winced.
“When do you need it?”
The boy shrugged. “As soon as you can.”
They stood in silence, staring at each other.
The wind trailed around the concrete, pushing at dirt and broken glass, trailing over the thin, beleaguered weeds sprouting from the cracks, seeking the blocked sun.
“Okay,” the woman finally said. “And then we’re even?”
The boy nodded.
The woman stared a moment longer and then turned, quick on her feet for such a giant of a man.
The boy reached out, and the wind hovered in the gap between them. “Wait.”
The woman paused but didn’t turn back.
“I’m very, very glad you’re alive,” the boy said quietly. He waited for her response, that small smile on his face.
After a long moment, the woman tilted her head and said quietly, “Yes. I still have the necklace. I never took it off.”
She walked from the alley, her footsteps echoing on the concrete. The boy’s small smile blossomed into a grin.