It was a bit late for that, what with the knocked over shelving and damaged, one-of-a-kind tomes, but he didn’t think she deserved reminding since she had other things to worry about. “Ah, yes, the thief and the problem she caused, as of yet still unknown.” He took a slow sip of his ale, eyeing her over the rim.
“You were right,” she said quietly, head hanging. “I want revenge.”
If only she hadn’t said it in such a sorrowful tone, Damien would have been elated, but as it was, she looked like she might cry, and that didn’t exactly inspire the wanton thoughts her words should have. “Well, that’s a very good reason to call the dead back up to the land of the living with an enchanted scroll. And even if your target doesn’t deserve it, it’s great chaos.” He chuckled, trying to lighten her mood.
But she only picked at the edge of the table and gnawed on that plump bottom lip of hers. “I think they do. It’s someone who hurt…they hurt the people I care about.”
“And this someone,”—his jaw tightened—“they hurt you as well?”
Eyes still cast down, shoulders hunched in, she simply nodded.
Infernal darkness, it would have felt good to choke the life out ofsomeoneright then.
“This someone is in Faebarrow still, yes?”
She nodded again.
“Where exactly?” When she looked up at him with confusion, he clarified, “I would like to pay them a visit.”
“No, you can’t, and it doesn’t matter anyway,” Amma said quickly. “It’s not nice to hurt people back for what they did toyou.”
Damien’s fist had gone painfully tight around the handle to his tankard. He concentrated to release it, the tiniest bit of noxscura slipping away from his palm. Flexing his fingers, he opened his mouth to disagree, but she continued with that slurred tone.
“The thing is, it’s just…it’s everyone else. I tried really hard to fix things already, I mean, I really,reallydid.” She dragged in a ragged breath and squeezed both hands around an empty stein, staring up at him like she wanted more than anything to convince him. It wasn’t the look of someone holding onto a lie, of someone who wanted to manipulate and steal, but of someone backed into a corner and desperate for a solution.
Damien lowered his voice, nodding. “I’m sure you did.”
She frowned down into her empty cup, then she shrugged. “Maybe some things are impossible. Maybe it doesn’t matter how much you want them or how much you’re willing to give up to make them happen, they just won’t. Or it’s me who failed. I stopped trying, I looked for a quick fix, and I ran away, and I can’t take that back now.” She blinked up at him again, eyes big and baleful. “Not that I would take it back. In fact, I wish I could—”
There was a clatter as their table scuffed toward them. Two people banged into it from the other side, falling over one another. There was a woman there suddenly, a man’s hand climbing up her dress and exposing her thigh beside Damien’s half-full tankard. He grabbed the table before it flipped over as the two slid off of it, laughing out a drunken apology between one another’s mouths and then stumbling up the stairs to the bed chambers above.
Amma stared after them, mouth agape, and then was suddenly broken of her melancholy. She giggled, holding up her empty tankard in front of her face. Her cheeks had gone blotchy and red as she tried to take another sip and got nothing, then her glassy eyes fell on him.
“Damien?” Her voice echoed into the hollow cup, cloying with sweetness. “Can I ask you something?”
Already concerned with where her words were headed, he picked up his own flagon and brought it to his lips. “I’m sure you will whether I say yes or no, so, I suppose you may.”
“Um, well?” Amma squinted up at the darkened ceiling, looking like she was thinking quite hard and having a very rough time, poor thing. “That night in the forest,”—she took a deep breath—“I mean, do you remember when we were,”—she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard—“Actually, I’m just curious: have you ever kissed a girl?”
Struck dumb, Damien swallowed a too-full mouth of ale, throat burning as it forced its way down. “What kind of question is that?”
Amma gathered up some courage then, scooting a bit closer on the bench so her knee brushed his. “Oh, sorry, um, should I have said a boy?”
Damien clicked his tongue. “Look, just because I’m a villain—”
“Not because you’re avillain,” she said, tone mocking, and then hiccupped. “Laurel likes girls, I get it. I just mean because you haven’t tried to…” She worried her lip with her fingers then shook her head. “Well, you know.”
“Know what?”
Tipping her head, a blond curl fell over her scrunched-up-with-frustration face. “Just answer the question. Have you kissed somebody?”
“Yes, of course,” he said slowly as if she were stupid which, judging by how much ale was inside her, she at least temporarily was. When she stared at him hard, waiting for him to clarify, he droned back as if it were the most boring thing in the world, “Both, at the same time, but don’t ask my upper limit at once—it’s difficult to keep count when you’ve just got a writhing pile of bodies underneath you.” When her eyes widened and face went even redder, he couldn’t help but smirk.
“Oh, you’re lying to me,” she groaned and slid back down against the wall, utterly dejected.
“Believe what you’d like, I’ve told you the truth.”
With an annoyed grunt, she tipped her head back. “I bet you’ve never kissed anyone before,ever. No wonder you’re so cranky all the time—you need to get laid.”
