15
‘Ineed you to not be insufferable about what I’m about to say,’ Bisma told Xander, pacing in his greenhouse early the next morning. She’d rushed in without thinking and only realized at the end of her sentence that he was asleep, his copper hair sticking out in every direction.
He rubbed his eyes, disoriented.
‘Bis?’ His voice was groggy with sleep. ‘Am I dreaming?’
Her face heated, not at all helped by the fact that he was shirtless under his paltry bedsheet. She spotted his shirt draped over a chair and threw it at him. ‘Put some clothes on.’
He sat up, frowning. ‘Usually in the dream, you’re telling me to do the opposite.’
She flushed at the thought. Pushing the rest of his blanket off, he stood, and she could unfortunately see why a dream version of her might make such commands. He was slender and well sculpted, all lean muscles from his broad shoulders down to his narrow waist, and she couldn’t help but stare.
It had been a long time since she’d been up close and personal with a shirtless man, and she sure had missed it, if the way her body hummed in response was any guess.
‘Like what you see?’ he asked, grinning as he caught her ogling.
She scowled. ‘Remember when I prefaced this with how I need you tonotbe insufferable?’
‘Sorry,’ he said, grinning more stupidly. ‘Didn’t hear much beyond “I need you”.’
She didn’t have a clever response to that, since he chose that moment to slowly put his shirt on, lazily tucking it into his trousers, and she watched his muscles move beneath the thin fabric, the image searing into her mind.
Remembering herself, Bisma glared. She turned to leave but Xander caught her hand, pulling her back with a firm tug. She whirled, almost colliding into his chest. He did not let go of her hand; she inhaled the sweet scent of cloves.
‘Sorry, Bis,’ he said, looking at her with a lopsided smile. ‘You’re too easy to rile—my little porcupine.’
‘Porcupine!’ She made an outraged face at that, wrenching free from his grasp.
He laughed out loud. ‘Alright, alright, I’ll behave.’
Xander ran his hands through his hair, tidying it a bit, and she felt disappointed she had not been afforded the honors. He cleared his throat, straightening up, then crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Alright,’ he said, green eyes focused. ‘I’m listening.’
Giving him a final withering look, she released a breath. ‘The freezing potion worked.’
Now he was alarmed. ‘Another poisoning?’ he asked, concerned, and she nodded. ‘Who?’
‘Deeba,’ Bisma replied. ‘The two-year-old.’
He swore.
Bisma looked away, blinking rapidly to force back the tears welling in her eyes. She had spent all night trying to figure out what to do and had come up with nothing substantial. There was no choice but to find a cure, and no matter how she had tried, she couldn’t do it alone.
Which was why, as dawn broke, she had decided to come to Xander. He had helped her twice already and had expressedan academic interest in the case. He was vexing, irritating,annoying, but she had no one else to turn to.
‘What’s her story?’ Xander asked, his voice gentle.
She turned back to him. ‘Why do you ask?’ No one ever did. He had asked about Mei’s story, as well. He hadn’t asked about Luna’s story but hers was more known in Old Town.
‘It’s important,’ he said. ‘Your sisters are part of who you are; I want to learn more about them. About you.’
Her heart skipped a beat. She cleared her throat, ignoring how his words warmed even the coldest parts of her.
‘Deeba came to us at nine months old, about a year ago,’ she told him. ‘She was in a little basket with a note, which explained that she was an orphan and that her wards were neglecting her. The neighbors were the ones who took her away one night and left her in the Enchanted Forest; they couldn’t care for her themselves but hoped that the Forest would look after her.’
‘Goodness,’ Xander said, alarmed. ‘They just … took her? And risked the baby being rejected by the Forest?’
‘The note detailed just how neglected Deeba was there,’ Bisma explained. ‘Apparently for the first month, they heard her cries all day and night until eventually the crying stopped. The neighbors thought perhaps this meant that things were well, but when they went to visit, they saw that the baby was practically starved.’
