“I mean, bad. Just a moment ago, I was bad. Because I hurt myself.”
She frowns and steps forward. “On purpose?”
“No. Just stubbed my knee. I mean, knocked my toe.” If a portal opened and sucked me into a hell dimension right now, I would welcome it. “Both those things. At once. Which is why I made that noise. But I have a fast recovery time.”
Seriously, gods, if you would like to smite me, I would be eternally grateful.
“Oh. Okay.” Ophelia tilts her head as she studies me, and the gesture appears almost birdlike. But something an adorable, beautiful bird would do. “Sorry to bother you again, but I wondered if you would mind giving me your phone number?”
“Mind? No. Never. I would never mind that.”
If someone overheard the way I spoke when Ophelia was nearby, they would never believe that I worked as a professorwho regularly gave class lectures. Especially not lectures about how to use the English language effectively.
“That’s good to know.” She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her phone, swipes it open, and hands it over to me.
“It’s an owl,” I say, once again showing my superior level of intelligence. But I’m surprised by the image she has set as her background.
Ophelia sidles closer, and I bite back a moan when I realize the firebird smells like cinnamon. She leans over my shoulder, and her ponytail swings forward, brushing my cheek. I think I might die right here, in my chair.
“He’s cute, right?” She pinches her fingers on the screen to zoom in on the round-faced barn owl. “I like to take walks at twilight, and he joins me sometimes. I wish we could fly together.”
“Why can’t you?”
Her lips twist. “Georgiana says my fire is too bright. Even for dark moon nights.”
Georgiana can go fuck herself. Ophelia spent however long being trapped in the wrong body, and now, someone is telling her she isn’t allowed to be her full self in a town of mythical creatures?
Not happening.
“We can find ways around that.” I don’t know how yet, but I’m determined to figure it out. “A cloaking spell maybe. Or we’ll go to a more remote part of Lake Galen, where humans aren’t allowed. You’re not the only fire being in town. The Mythic Council might already have a solution.”
Ophelia straightens while I talk, and her fingers tangle in the ends of her ponytail. “Georgiana is on The Council.”
Much to Mor’s consternation. Last year, there was an election for the Of the Wing seat on the Mythic Council. My sister thought for sure someone would unseat the siren with herantiquated notions of how Folk Haven should be managed. But the siren is a charming woman with deep ties to the Of the Wing community. She ran unopposed.
“Which means she should help you find a solution. Not shut you down.”
Ophelia makes a noise in the back of her throat that’s not quite agreement. But I’m not about to back off this issue unless she tells me to. For the moment, I’ll leave it alone, but I have all summer to work on whatever project I want before classes start again in the fall.
Discovering a way to make Ophelia happy seems like a good use of my time.
I navigate to her Contacts list so I can add my name. There, I get another shock.
Finn Hammond
Georgiana Stormwind
Owen MacNamara
Her boss, her landlord and Council representative, and her other boss.
And that’s it. Those three.
Ophelia has three people listed in her phone.
“You just click that thingy, I think.” Ophelia points at the plus symbol, sounding only partially sure.
Is Ophelia new to using cell phones?
