I’m rattled, but I can’t let this shake me. I’ll process, then execute a plan. Hopefully one that involves beating someone’s ass for dumping a helpless kid in the woods of a foreign realm.
I turn in my seat, smiling gently, but authentically at Anika. This kid is smart. Magic or no magic, she’ll recognize bullshit. Without sugar coating it, I walk her through where we are and why we had to leave quickly. She listens without interrupting, her serious blue eyes calculating.
When I finish, Anika blinks a few times.“Shmi?”she asks, then retracts her wings.
“Yes, that will help, especially when you’re not in Harriet’s home.” I say it first in the common tongue, then repeat the same sentence in English. Her eyes light up, and I watch her lips moving silently around the unfamiliar new words.
My heart throbs, pride and regret warring for dominance. She’s far too pragmatic for a child her age.
I explain that Harry is a harpy, a species Anika tells me with excitement she’s read about. My smile widens as she wiggles in the backseat, pressing her nose to the glass. Her mind may belong to a tiny scholar, but her body is that of an impatient child, eager to see something cool in person.
Anika quickly loses interest in looking out the window and starts spitting rapid-fire questions my way. From the climate to the economy, she grills me without mercy. I do my best to answer in both languages, but within five minutes, I’m forced to accept that I don’t know jack shit about anything. She reaches the same conclusion, the curiosity in her eyes turning to pity. She’s wondering how I managed to survive this long.Same, kid, same.
If only Luca would hurry up and put us both out of our misery.
When he finally comes back, I’m more exhausted than if I ran ten miles after working a double shift at the club. Luca knocks gently on Anika’s window, and she climbs primly out of the back seat. She bows to him, then does the same to Harry.
“Hello, Harry,” she says in English, pointing at herself. “Anika.”
The striking harpy beams at her, waves at me, then takesAnika by the hand and leads her into the house. Anika skips along at her side, only glancing once over her shoulder at me.
Has she already learned not to count on anyone?I scrub my hand over my face, slumping in my seat as Luca climbs in. Once Harry and Anika disappear inside, I thump my head repeatedly against the headrest, groaning until I feel better.
“What?” Luca asks, suppressed laughter in his voice.
“Why haven’t you ever told me I’m an idiot?” I demand.
“Because you aren’t?”
I take in his confused expression and giggle, then shake my head. “It’s worse than I thought. We’re both stupid, that’s why we’ve never noticed.”
“You need a drink. Or a nap.”
“I’d be better off reading a book on electricity,” I say.
“Now you’re making no sense.” Luca shakes his head. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
As he drives back to my place, I tell him about all the questions Anika asked, and we make up outlandish responses to them the entire way. For a few minutes, our laughter distracts me from the itch.
SIX
Unspoken rule of the Fringes #41:
Don’t ask questions you don’t already know the answer to.
LUCA
Stay calm. Don’t push too hard. Be supportive.I lecture myself sternly as I fold the clean towels at the Fang while listening absently to the dancers chat before open.
I’m doing my best to be chill, but Celine’s skin turned into the fucking Rosetta Stone! I can’t help but have questions about that. Questions I refuse to ask because I know she doesn’t want to talk about it. If she did, she would have barreled in headfirst as soon as we were alone in the car.
I try not to let it sting that she doesn’t trust me with this.
Celine owes me nothing. Not her present and certainly not her past. I only hope she trusts me enough to ask for help if whatever put the shadows in her eyes becomes a problem for her future. I’ll turn it to stone, then she can grind it to dust.
“They blurred his dangly bits, so we couldn’t confirmif they were shriveled or not,” Celine says as she meticulously contours her face. I shake my head and add a towel to my stack. When the girls shoot the shit, I’m never quite sure what’s going to come out of their mouths, but it’s nice to see Celine relax.
“If you watch the international version, it won’t be censored,” Imani says, her lips curled into the amused disgust she always shows whenever man parts are up for discussion.
