Chapter 20 Lies and Liberties #2
“It’s not an issue,” Lochlan says, tone final. “Our hands are already full, without having to file claims for accidental brainwashing.”
Kandi’s jaw flexes. “Of course.” She slips her crystal link back into her pocket. “Sharn is our first meeting, and she’s always early. I suggest we leave soon.”
Lochlan nods. “Make sure we have the decree and a full list of participants.”
“Already done,” is her quick response.
“Excellent. I’ll shower and be down in fifteen.”
Petulance or maybe morbid curiosity keeps me from taking the last two steps to reach Scarlet’s door, entirely too interested to see if she follows him.
“Let’s go over what’s happening in Sylaria,” Griffin says, redirecting her.
Kandi slips her hand into the crook of his arm. The sight of her fingers curling around his biceps—void of the imprint—is a blunt force against my throat.
I rap my knuckles against Scarlet’s door.
She opens it with a broad smile, looking casual and chic in jeans, crop top, and a pink blazer, dark hair falling in perfect waves. Her expression dims as her gaze flicks over my shoulder in the direction of a retreating Griffin and Kandi.
“I was just about to get you,” she says, taking my hand like she senses I’ve forgotten how to walk. Once I’m inside, she closes the door with a quiet snap.
The pressure in my chest barely eases.
“Deep breath,” she whispers.
I nod and try to pull a breath through my nose, hating that I’m reacting to them—to Kandi with them.
“I can cast a charm that will give her a rash for a full week before anyone figures out what it is. Another that will make her stink like a Maolodrim.” Her gaze drifts to the closed door when I don’t answer. “Who is she? And why is she up here?”
“Someone who works with them, and I don’t know. I don’t care.” Neither of us acknowledges my lie as the sea of brightly colored bags beside her bed catches my attention. “When did you go shopping?”
“Daire dropped them off when you didn’t answer your door. He asked me to make sure you got them.”
Warmth slips past my defenses, wrapping around my chest. “What is it?”
“Clothes.”
“More clothes?”
She shrugs. “Wanting to provide is basic bond behavior. And whoever his assistant is has killer taste. I picked your outfit for today, but you did a decent job on your own.” She gives me an approving glance.
I eye the outfit across her bed that I’m guessing she intended for me. “I’m amazed how similar fashion is between here and Earth.”
“That’s because clothing design is one of our top exports.”
Surprise has my gaze snapping to hers. “Does Bryxton import things from Earth?”
“Entertainment mostly. Movies, books, music—you can find most of them here.”
“There are TVs here?”
She nods. “Like the crystal link, it’s a bit more advanced, but comparable, though they’re not very popular. As Elementals, we get energy from each other, making us a very social culture.”
“This is social?”
She snorts. “Stars, no. If you weren’t here, I’d have lost my mind after the second day, but they’re a completed Vestra. And now with finding you—their Keystone—they won’t feel the need to socialize.”
“I’ve always been an introvert,” I admit.
“That’s because you’re an Elemental. You wouldn’t have felt the energy or connection being around humans.”
Silently, I debate if I would have fit in here when I’ve never fit anywhere.
Scarlet’s expression becomes a contradiction, smiling, though sympathy shines in her gaze. “You’ll see what I mean. And Saturday’s our first tidecast game. You’re my date.”
I swallow, hating the nerves that delay me from answering with an emphatic yes. “Will I have to shield or use an element?”
“Nope. The audience is prohibited from using any elements. There are even wards in place.”
“Do you have giant foam fingers or jerseys I can get?”
She laughs, pulling a black jacket from one of the bags and handing it to me. “It’s supposed to be cold today. Speaking of which, want me to do your hair?”
“I would be so grateful.”
She grabs a bag and motions for me to follow her into the washroom.
Hers isn’t quite as large or elaborate as mine, but stunning nonetheless.
I stiffly take a seat at the vanity, eyeing the three-panel mirror that displays all sides of me.
My mother’s voice whispers about my unruly hair and owlish eyes.
I wonder what she would say now if she saw they were lavender, making them stick out even more in my slightly gaunt face.
Apparently, magic can only heal so much, because while I’m no longer sickeningly thin, you can still count my ribs, a fact that Gwen has seemingly taken on as her own personal challenge, serving me more than I can eat and baking a fresh batch of moonberry tarts daily.
Scarlet lifts what loosely resembles a showering cap from the bag she brought in.
“This is a hair styler, and this is how you program it.” She gestures to a set of tiny buttons.
I fight every instinct to flinch or move so she’s not at my back, but trying to relax my stance feels like trying to breathe underwater.
Somehow, I remain still—frozen—as she gathers my wet hair and puts it inside the contraption and sets it over my scalp.
“It will feel a little warm, but it won’t hurt. ”
A gentle burst of warm air blows under the cap, and then I feel my hair being gently combed.
“It won’t give me an eighties perm, right?”
Scarlet laughs. “That wasn’t one of our trends.”
“Maybe we can test it for when I go to meet Council. Maybe if I look half as confused as I feel, they’ll take pity on me and not execute me on the spot.”
Her gaze snaps to mine in the mirror, and I wish I could take back those words and swallow them whole. “I’m kidding.”
The styler beeps softly. She removes it with the same gentleness. My hair cascades down my shoulders in perfect, shiny waves.
“Makeup is still manual, but Daire got all the good stuff.” She motions to a bag filled with cosmetics, letting the Council comment to drop.
“Would you mind helping me? I haven’t worn makeup in forever.”
Scarlet sweeps and blots and then takes a step back.
“You’re going to make them weep, or at least give them blue balls.
” She moves to the side, allowing me to see my reflection.
It feels like I’m looking at someone else, someone who is whole and beautiful, and not terrified of every creak and shadow.
“They’re still debating if I’m a traitor. But regardless, they’ve made it clear that even if I’m not, the only explanation for the imprints is that I’m cursed,” I admit.
Scarlet reels. “A curse?” She shakes her head.
“No. No way in hell. A curse wouldn’t be able to stay within a single Vestra.
You’d imprint on everyone if that were the case.
” She pauses, and then brightens. “You know what? We’ll test his theory.
You’ll touch every male at Thornhurst today and see just how many you imprint on.
Who says science can’t be fun?” She brushes her hands together.
“Come on. Let’s pack up some of these new clothes so we can bring them to my dorm.
My friend, Everett, is on his way to give us a ride. ”
“I don’t want to take this stuff. Lochlan already thinks I’m a freeloading snoop.”
“We’re taking these and coming back for the rest later,” she says, condensing the bags and passing me three.
I pray the guys are gone as I glance back at Scarlet’s room, but as we descend the stairs, I’m reminded luck has never been on my side.