“It was one of those pre-fab buildings, sitting at the base of a pit mine. The asshole set dynamite chargesthat set off an avalanche during one of our celebrations.”
“Yes, fine.” I waved away the distinction as I sat forward, my elbows on the table. “You went back into an avalanche-squashed buildingfour timesto pull out your friends and co-workers? You know, in psychology, we call that kind of thing compulsive caretaking. Or maybe a hero complex.” I grinned. “Except I don’t think you were thinking about that.”
His lips were tugging downward again. “Thinking about what?”
“Being a hero.” Did he really not see it? “You were just doing it because they were your guys, right?” Suddenly, I thought I had a bit more of an understanding of Garrak’s character. “And you take care of your guys.”Just like you took care of me. “You were looking out for them then, and…” I cocked my head. “And you came here to Eastshore, looking out for them now.”
I wondered if he allowed any of them to look out forhim.
Slowly, Garrak put down his mug without looking away from me. He was watching me as if he couldn’t make sense of me. As ifIwere one of those subjects from clinical trials in school.
When he finally spoke, he sounded hesitant. “The first five guys who followed me out here were all down there that day.”
“And you saved them.” I sat back with a grin, proud I’d figured out a bit about my strange host. “You protected them, and they trust you, Garrak. No wonder they followed you.”
“Do you want to come with me to my meeting today?”
He didn’t exactlyblurtthe words, but they were enough of a non sequitur that I blinked in surprise. “To…your meeting?” He said it was across town, right?
“Yeah. I think…” He shook his head and reached for his fork again. “You might appreciate what I’m trying to do.”
Well, that was mysterious as hell, wasn’t it? But I didn’t know anyone in Eastshore, and had nothing to do today except maybe stand outside that bakery he’d mentioned and admire the delicious treats for sale…so I might as well go to his mysterious meeting, yeah? Maybe it’d give me some more insight into my mysterious host.
Which would help me figure out how to crack him.
Ihadto get him to erase Dad’s debt if I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, and if I only had until Sunday, then I needed to squeeze in as many hours with Garrak as possible.
Right.Thatwas the only reason I was smiling shyly when I nodded. “That would be nice. Thanks for inviting me.”
Chapter Four
Garrak
What the fuckhad I been thinking? Here I was, my dream within reach, and I’d invited the sexiest little distraction along for the ride?Literally?
I glanced over to the passenger seat, where Stevie was leaned forward, palms braced against the dash as she glanced eagerly about, her head bobbing slightly in time to the music. Her blue hair was tucked behind her ears, and when she moved, the weak spring sunshine caught the metal in her earlobes and made her sparkle.
Or maybe it washerthat sparkled; how interested she was in the town. I found myself giving her a little tour.
“This is Main Street. It was built years ago, but most of the buildings have been converted to apartments above. The boutique stores cater to visitors, but the pub is popular with locals.” I tipped my head to the left. “Andthe hardware store has almost anything you could imagine.”
“A tattoo parlor?” Stevie asked, pointing to Giza’s place.
“An orc runs that. In our culture, tattoos are…” Frowning thoughtfully, I glanced down at my forearm, my own marks hidden beneath my long sleeves, and back up in time to see the light turn green. I stepped on the gas again. “Tattoos tell our personal history. They’re not just commemorative, but ourmemories.I added on to mine when my little brother joined my family, and again when my mother died. I have an appointment with Giza to expand it to mark our migration to Eastshore.”
She’d twisted in the seat, watching the parlor recede in the distance. “Giza is the tattoo artist?”
“Giza is the oldest orc on Eastshore, the oldest of the cohort who came through the veil a decade ago and blew open the secret about our home world paralleling the humans’. He’s…” I shrugged. “He’s the memory-keeper, I guess, and his shop isn’t just for tattooing. He keeps our culture alive there. Karnak is an artist, and he’s turned his home into a studio. He works with Giza sometimes, as people come together to study…”
I shrugged again and turned toward the north end of the island. I wasn’t sure where I was going with that.
“Study you?” Stevie said softly. “Orrememberyour culture, maybe?”
Surprised, I glanced over to find that dark blue gaze a little too sympathetic. “Yeah, I guess,” I managed. “We’ve been spread out for a long while, and it’s good toknow there are guys keeping our culture alive, even if most of us have embraced human ways.”
When she smiled, Ifeltit. Which was weird as fuck because my attention was on the road. No, myeyeswere on the road, but my attention was onher.
“If I wasn’t heading back to the mainland tomorrow, maybeIcould make an appointment with Giza for some new ink. Feels like I have a lot of shit I could stand to commemorate.”
