Chapter 23 #2
My uncle had tested some of those theories, and as far as I could tell, those tales were all a bunch of hooey. My magic didn’t work that way. All I could do was create rainbow bubbles when I laughed and shift into a horse-like form that had a horn.
But what did I know? I might be defective. Other unicorns could have amazing superpowers. I had no way of knowing, since I’d never met another unicorn to ask them.
Then there were the myths that said we were only drawn to virgins.
That was one hundred percent wrong. Leonardo da Vinci famously wrote about unicorns and virgins, so you’d think he’d be a credible source, right?
But he’d said unicorns forgot about being wild and fierce around virgins and were only capable of being trapped when they fell asleep in a virgin’s lap.
How ridiculous.
Because I sincerely doubted Nelson was a virgin, and I was ready to nap in his lap the second he offered. No proof of virginity required. In fact, I rather liked the idea of his not being a virgin, because there were so many fun things he could teach me.
A shadow moved in the trees. Nelson was already coming back. He materialized only long enough to dump an armful of logs by the door before taking off again. He was so sexy when he was trying to be all protective.
Wait. I was supposed to be working too, wasn’t I? Oops.
I sorted through the cans. I selected a can of mushroom soup for Nelson and a cream of celery for myself. Good enough. I dug through the cupboards and found a can opener and two small pots we hadn’t commandeered for snow/water duty.
The weather had been quite mild until this storm hit, so the soups weren’t frozen. Perfect. Within a few minutes, I had the pots of soup tucked into the embers. Determined to stay close and not destroy our supper, I spread a small woolen blanket over the floor and sat down right beside the fire.
By the time Nelson came into the cabin again, the soup was bubbling.
“I made you cream of mushroom soup!” I yanked the pots onto the hearth tile in front of the fireplace.
“Sounds good,” he said as he removed his jacket and boots and set them close to the hearth. His nose wiggled as he sniffed the air. He wasn’t an animal shifter, so I didn’t know what he was sniffing for.
I stirred the soup. A dark brown chunk of something floated to the surface of his soup. I surreptitiously fished out the clump and tossed it into the flames, making the fire sizzle.
“Uh… Don’t drag your spoon across the bottom of the pot…”
His mouth twitched. “Did you burn it?”
“Uh… Maybe? I stirred it, I swear, but cooking over a fire isn’t as easy as it should be.”
Nelson grabbed the spoons I’d set out on the counter, but he ignored the bowls. He came over and sat beside me. It almost felt like we were having a romantic picnic. He offered one of the spoons to me. I took it and glanced at the bowls on the counter.
“No sense dirtying another dish if we don’t have to,” he said. “Is this one mine?”
I grimaced. “Yeah. But if it’s too burned, we can throw it out and make another one. I think I saw another cream of mushroom in what we brought over here.”
“This is fine.” Nelson reached for the pot.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever eaten directly out of a pot before. My life had already become so interesting after meeting Nelson. We’d run away together, broken into places, and cuddled all night. Now we were having new culinary experiences.
These were the moments we’d look back on fondly as we grew old together.
A guy had to have goals, right?
I’d promised I wouldn’t try to seduce him, but I hadn’t given up on the idea of being with Nelson. He was just too… captivating.
Violet would be mortified by the turn of my thoughts.
I could already imagine her arguments against Nelson.
“He’s isolated you,” she’d say. “He’s lured you with the promise of an artifact he won’t even let you touch.
He’s trapped you in a remote location with no cell service.
” Then she’d make some pointed reference to Stockholm syndrome.
But she was disturbingly protective of me, so her opinions were skewed. It was a wonder she had helped me prepare to attend the market this weekend. At the thought of her, pain pierced through my chest. She must be so worried about me.
I wished there were some way I could get a message to her, to reassure her I was safe. But our phones weren’t working here.
“You going to eat that soup or just stare at it?” Nelson nodded toward the pot I’d left to cool on the tile.
I picked up the pot by the handle. Nelson made the process of holding the pot with one hand and spooning soup into his mouth with the other look easy.
It wasn’t. At least not for me. It was like my body had been too well trained to sit at a table and eat out of a bowl, and it was rebelling at the idea of doing anything else.
Nelson’s eyes crinkled at the sides as he watched me.
“Is the pot still hot?”
I tapped it with my finger. “No. It isn’t too bad.”
“Why don’t you try sipping from the pot instead?”
Yeah. That was a lot easier. And by skipping the spoon, I didn’t dislodge any of the burned bits on the bottom, although it still tasted burned.
Violet had gone through a phase where she’d added smoky paprika to everything she cooked, so I tried to pretend this was just a new smoky flavored soup. It almost worked.
We ate in silence for a few minutes.
“So why did you make the cream of mushroom soup for me?” Nelson asked.
“I thought you might need it to help with your magic.”
“But how did you know mushrooms helped me?”
Was he serious? “Because no one eats as many mushrooms as you did last night. Not unless they lost a bet.”
Nelson chuckled. It was a nice sound. Deep and rumbly. “You’re right. Mushrooms do replenish my magic. I take it you don’t like them?”
“Little rubbery balls of sadness? No, thank you.” I shuddered and pretended to gag.
Nelson laughed again. This time, laughter came more easily to him. “No, I didn’t lose a bet, although my friends do bet a lot. It’s usually just a winner-takes-all wager. But now I’m wondering if we should switch things up and have a consequence for the biggest loser too.”
“What kinds of things do you bet on?”
So, Nelson told me about the people in Willow Lake, about the bets they made, and about the powerful supernatural cat who always won.
He spoke affectionately about the people in his life, and a sense of longing curled through me.
Yes, I had Violet. But she was the only one I had.
I’d always dreamed of having a circle of friends to tease and laugh with. It sounded wonderful.
“What is the current bet?”
“Oh, um. I’m not sure.” Nelson collected the empty pots and carried them to the kitchen area.
My skin itched, so I knew he was lying, but I didn’t know why.