“Centuries of practice.”
“Centuries?” she repeats, opening her eyes wide. “How old are you?”
“It's rude to ask a woman her age.”
A waiter approaches us, fortunately interrupting the conversation, which was getting a bit uncomfortable. Nell watches me with curiosity as she twirls a strand of her hair around her index finger. Without being able to help it, I staremesmerized at her eyes. One an intense blue and the other light gray.
“I know they're different; people have been telling me that since I was a kid. You don't need to state the obvious.”
“They're heterochromatic, and I think they're very beautiful. Maybe it's because of your Fae heritage.”
“Because of my Fae heritage?”
“Being part Fae and part human. I don't really know. The Fae are natural enemies of elves, so I don't know much about them,” I confess.
“Well, so... did you come to make sure I'm doing my homework or something?” she jokes, drumming her fingers on the book. “Because let me tell you this book is boring as hell. Half of it is in another language I don't understand and the other half looks like it was written after smoking something illegal.”
“It's an ancient text,” I explain. “Written by and for air elementals with centuries of experience. Don't expect to master it in one night.”
“Do you always hold back so much? No offense, but you look like you took a Valium and then shoved a stick up your ass.”
“I'm not offended. I'm an elf. And I understand you don't trust me. To be honest, I wouldn't either,” I acknowledge.
“Yeah, well, you attacked me with a taser, in case you don't remember,” she protests, raising her eyebrows like she's trying to provoke me.
I smile. The hardness of her features contrasts with a vulnerability she's trying to hide. She's beautiful, but in a completely different way from the ethereal beauty of elf women.
“Have you managed to practice any spells?” I ask, leaning slightly toward her, though I think I'm the one who's beginning to be enchanted.
Nell looks around before leaning in too.
“Last night, when I was reading...” she whispers, “the curtains in my room started moving, but I don't think that'll help us if someone attacks.”
I don't know if she's serious or joking. I can't catch her irony, but the way she winks at me when she sees my confusion and smiles makes me tremble.
“Okay, now explain to me,” she murmurs, running a hand through her messy hair. “Am I some kind of... air witch or something?”
“Elemental,” I correct. “And only half Fae, as far as we know.”
“Yeah, well, that's according to Kaelisar, who seems to have a serious problem with the truth.”
“He's not very reliable,” I confirm.
“Why do you hide your ears?” she asks suddenly, entirely changing the subject. “Are you afraid people will look at you weird?”
“Humans tend to react badly to what they don't understand,” I respond. “My appearance already attracts too much attention without showing obviously non-human features.”
“I'm telling you you don't go unnoticed, with ears or without them,” she points out, biting her lower lip. “You're like... I don't know, too perfect. You look like you walked out of one of those expensive fashion magazines. I guess despite being centuries old, according to what you said, your boobs don't even sag.”
“What?”
“It's a joke, Sylara. Damn, you three don't get my sense of humor. It was a compliment,” she adds, winking again and making me nervous. “By the way, how does it work?” she changes the subject again and throws me off. “You know, your thing. The earth and plants and all that.”
“It's a connection,” I explain, searching for simple words for a complex concept. “I can feel the earth, speak with it.”
“Damn, you talk to the earth? Can you introduce me to the dealer who sells you what you're smoking? That was a joke again, Sylara, relax,” she adds, dying of laughter. “Well, what about the other two? Althea looks like she's going toburst into flames any second, and Sabina... well, Sabina is weird. Hot, but weird.”
Something twists inside me at her comment about Sabina, a feeling that surprises me with its intensity. Jealousy? Elves don't feel jealous. It's absurd.
