Darcy’s entire face shutters, and he stands, looking away. “Humans are immune to and can’t perceive magic. That’s why the universal spell doesn’t work on them to translate French into Italian or English into Chinese. Humans have to learn language the hard way.”
Damn. I hit a sensitive issue for him. I don’t like that I did, but without any warnings about what’s off limits for the old man, it’s probably inevitable. Seven thousand years of life isn’t happening without at least a little trauma.
“I’ve never met anyone who didn’t speak English, except the aliens I met yesterday.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rise skeptically. “That’s probably not true.”
The array stops going so fast and the Eiffel Tower comes into startling focus as we descend toward the streets of Paris. “You got a favorite cafe here?” I ask, staring at the Eiffel Tower. “I get to check this off the bucket list. We should have a look at the Great Wall of China next.”
The shadows that darkened Darcy’s countenance before lift with the reemergence of his smile. “Sure. We can take the long way home and stop by the Great Wall on the way back.”
“Fuck yeah,” I hoot, gratified to get to check two things off the bucket list tonight. “Having my own Princess Jasmine magic carpet ride.”
Darcy mean mugs me, but I don’t think it’s serious. “This ain’t a date, Peach.”
I acknowledge that with a nod as the array stops in front of a restaurant with fairy lights and outdoor seating and we hop off. There are people milling around on the street, but they don’tpay us any attention. That probably goes with the can't-perceive-magic thing. Darcy stops by the welcome podium and gets us a table for two on the balcony. The host leads us up and hands us menus, speaking perfectly understandable English…
As soon as he leaves us, I lean in to Darcy, whispering, “That guy was speaking French?”
Darcy smirks. “And you responded in English to his French.”
“I thought I was human,” I admit, a little impressed.
Darcy snorts. “You perceive magic. You’re mostly human, but you got some interesting ancestry.”
“I wonder how I can find out about that,” I ponder, perusing the menu. It’s in French, so I set it aside. “Can you order for me? I can’t read any language but English.”
“Sure thing, Peach. I gotchu.”
Thankfully, he does. He orders for us both when the server comes over. We get a bottle of wine to share, and after tasting it, Darcy cuts me some bread and smoothes some creamy cheese over it. He puts it on a little plate for me before serving himself.
It’s a little datey of him to do, but I’m not telling him that. I like seeing him smile, and I’m not going to steal his joy just because he doesn’t really understand how platonic dinners work.
“You’ve never answered me honestly, Peach. What is your real major?” he asks, looking at me with his full attention.
I try to remember what I told him before. PT, right? Maybe it was entrepreneurship? “Did you know that you can get a bachelor’s in packaging? I heard about that when I was looking into careers with low unemployment rates.”
Darcy arches a brow. “Are you getting a bachelor’s in packaging?”
“Oh no, that’s not even offered at my school.” I think the only place to get that bachelor’s is in Michigan or Illinois or somewhere in the Great Lakes area. Hmm. Might be in Toronto.
“Peach.” Is that a note of warning I detect in that rumbling, deep, commanding tone?
Sigh. If my ass wasn’t still recovering from our last encounter, I would suggest a trip to thetoilettes. “NOAA has some pretty steep requirements for their meteorologists, but I finished all those requirements in my first year. It was a lot of fun.”
Darcy narrows his eyes, studying me. “Did you also finish all the requirements for getting certified to do physical therapy?”
I nod. “I did that during my second year. It’s nice that they line up all the core classes so they’re easy to schedule in.”
“That’s a lot of credit hours,” he says, apropos of nothing.
“It’s not like I don’t have all day,” I point out.
“What did you do during your third year?”
I smile broadly, remembering that year fondly. “Business entrepreneurship. It was enlightening. I think I’ll really be able to help my family’s farm with that one.”
“How old are you?” he asks curiously.
