Page 33

Andi’s face shutters, and I know that I have, somehow, said the wrong thing. “How did you know that?” she asks quietly.

“Your clothes,” I reply simply. “They are all a size too big on you, even clothes that should fit you tightly.”

Her eyes widen. “Were you a tailor in your old life, then?”

“I was a noble,” I tell her, not seeing the harm in giving up such a small piece of my past. “I was trained on how to judge someone on the fit of their garment from the time when I was very young.”

“A noble . . .” she muses aloud, “. . . that explains the house.”

“I have a taste for the best things in life,” I shrug. “What else is worth having?”

Andi looks a little uncomfortable. She jokes brittlely, “Makes no sense why you’d want to pursue an uneducated foster kid then. I’ve never been described as the best of anything.”

In a moment, I am close to her, tilting her head up to look at me. “Ah, Andi, do not disappoint me with insecurity. You forget that I’ve seen you on stage. You and I both know what you are.”

“What’s that?” she asks a little breathlessly.

“A star. One that burns brightly in the heavens, meant to be worshiped and admired.”

Her eyes are half-lidded, and I can feel her wanting to kiss me again. But no, it’s not time for that yet. She needs to be more desperate. Until she makes the first move.

So I pull away. “You should eat, ma souris, before it gets cold. Then you will feed me.”

“I’m never really that hungry after a show,” Andi says breathlessly. “You can feed now.”

“I applaud your enthusiasm,” I purr, before leading her to a chair. “But humor me. It will be better for you if the feed happens on a full stomach.”

Andi grumbles a bit, but sits in her seat and begins to eat. She’s utilitarian in her motions, none of the polished manners of the upper crust, but then, that makes sense with her background. And I don't really care for such things anymore. I don’t use table manners either. I slide into the chair across from hers and watch her eat with a sense of satisfaction. Watching her eat what I have provided for her feels . . . right. It’s a dangerous thought. I only want her in my bed, not my life. Such a delicate innocent has no place in a world like mine.

“Where did you grow up?” Andi asks conversationally.

“France,” I say vaguely. I don’t really want to share too much of my past with her.

She quirks a corner of her lip at me before taking another bite. “I figured that much when you tried to speak in French to me and kept calling me French pet names. Where in France?”

“The south,” I say, still evasive.

“I grew up in Fort Worth,” she offers. “Got passed around from family to family until I was about ten, then I landed with my last foster mom, Granny Jean.” She smiles a little sadly as she says the name.

“Did she die?” I ask curiously.

She shakes her head. “No. She just didn’t want me to go to New Orleans. Said that the signs were bad and that I’d have a rough go of it. When I didn’t listen to her and left anyway, we fell out of touch. Not that keeping in touch with someone like her is easy. Granny Jean’s not really one for technology and still only has a landline. I used to have to do my homework at the library to get the internet.”

Fascinating. “What did she mean about the signs?”

Andi shrugs. “She was really into tarot and other witchy things. She’d go on and on about the signs and portents and the Goddess’ will . . .”

Andi suddenly looks up in alarm. “Does that mean that Granny Jean is Other?”

I shake my head. “Not all who follow the way of Wicca are Others. She could be, but chances are she’s just as human as you.”

Andi relaxes. That makes me curious again. “Would it be so terrible if she were Other?”

Andi bites her lip, stopping eating for a moment. “Yes and no. There’s nothing wrong with being Other. I mean, you can't help it, right? But that would mean that she was lying and hiding things from me for the eight years I lived with her. It would make me feel a little bit betrayed.”

Ah, betrayal. This I understand. I have been betrayed many times in my long life, and I have no doubt that I will be again. As far as keeping The Other World a secret, though, that is a fairly small thing. But I am wise enough not to say so to Andi.

The human continues eating in silence for a little while longer and finally clears her plate.