CHAPTER11
LUCAS
Had I overreacted last night? Well, I had acted like a sullen, defensive ass.
While I separated different types of lavender that had started to encroach on each other’s space, bullying for more soil, I replayed what had happened. Working out here in the garden might help me find perspective, which had remained elusive last night, even while I flew. I needed this green therapy.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have left the club the way I had. Of course, I’d checked to make sure Zoe arrived home safely. It would have been better to be with her rather than watching from afar.
Was there anything I could have done to avoid our argument?
Yes, I could have been honest. By keeping the truth from her, maybe I had acted odd enough to rouse suspicions.
I yanked handfuls of weeds with aggression. Could I blame her for reacting that way? She’d be attuned for signs of that from her past and probably attuned to stay wary as a defense mechanism.
Maybe she was right. I shouldn’t keep things from her, even if I thought it was protecting her because it found a way to hurt her in another way. That was expected from her experience. But why had she said I was also letting my past interfere with my future?
I groaned. My reaction might have been too defensive as well, letting the situation with my parents’ breakup affect mine with Zoe. Was that why I was overly sensitive to her mistrust?
Possibly.
I grunted. Likely.
If I expected her to look to our future with an open mind, I had to do the same.
I pushed some leaves aside, and a small being flew up, its tiny wings flapping. Damn, it was the grouchy sprite Marty who’d punched me in the garden in Bermuda.
What the— “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” He flew up to my face, little wings buzzing faster.
“Tell anyone what?”
“About us. And yet you opened your big trap and blabbed about it. Not only that, but you also tried to kill me with a shovel.”
“Wait, what?” I raised my hand to slow down this insane conversation, trying to piece together what was happening. “How did you get here? Did you follow me from Bermuda?” It seemed to be a pretty solid assumption, considering he was now buzzing about my garden. Then there was the strange dancing compulsion that brought me back to Ripped the other night. “Did you do something to me?”
“No questions, dragon breath.” He spread his little hands out toward me and blew a blast of iridescent dust into my face.
“What are you doing?” As I opened my mouth to speak, I choked on the particles. Why did this seem familiar? My brain clawed back to a hazy memory of choking on cloying dirt here in the garden. Marty must have been behind it. And whatever he threw at me had to have magic.
Marty smirked as I suffered. I reached out to grab him, but he flew up higher and out of reach.
“What did you throw at me?” I shouted.
No stranger to the power of this magic, I had to find out what this was before it affected me again.
“You’ll see, dancing queen.” He chuckled.
This could be bad. I’d already been bespelled a couple of times by this sprite, and it had messed with my life.
I’d chase that little bugger down and teach him some manners. I removed my shorts, T-shirt, and boxers with haste, and then initiated the shift to dragon form.
Nothing happened. I remained in my human form.
“You little shit!” I swore and pounded my fist into the air. “I’ll find you!”
The damn sprite cackled and flew higher. Soon, he was a speck and then nothing more.
