Blood And Breath

15

“Thank you.” His intense eyes met mine, and I squirmed with embarrassment before turning back to my bag. “I also made some muffins yesterday, so I brought a few. They’re banana nut—hopefully, you don’t have a nut allergy. But then, I guess the Fae don’t have allergies, do they? Maybe you shouldn’t eat them; I’d hate to be the reason you died when you only just got your freedom.” I held the plastic container full of muffins to my chest and sucked my lips into my mouth. “I’m rambling, aren’t I? When I get nervous, I tend to ramble. I’m sorry.” Fen pushed away from the wall and slowly prowled over to where I sat. I watched wide-eyed, my head tilted back to hold his gaze as every thought evaporated from my mind in a puff of smoke. He took one of my curls in his hand and gently drew away so the strands eased achingly slowly between his fingers. “Stop apologizing,” he warned in a silky voice. He lifted the container of muffins from my hands. “If I wish for you to stop talking, have no doubt that I will tell you. And I am not sure what an allergy is, but I see no reason I cannot eat what you have prepared. You would likely be horrified to know some of the things I was made to eat in order to survive. I dare say these will not harm me.” His features remained impassive, but I detected a spark of emotion in his eyes. What I would have given to know the substance of those hidden thoughts. To know him. Maybe then I could find a way to breathe in his presence. To hold a single coherent thought when he was this close. Close enough to touch. To smell his musky scent unaltered by artificial lotions or cologne. I got the sense that everything about Fenodree was pure and natural. No pretenses or airs. He was exactly who he was without apology. When he spoke, he was forthright and honest. When he acted, it was out of instinct. He was sparing in offering those views of himself, but honesty lay beneath when he did give a glimpse below the surface. My gut told me Fen was a man who could be trusted. The realization helped me to finally relax in his company. I took a calming breath as he retreated back to his place against the wall. “Okay, no more apologizing.” I pulled out an orange I had brought with me and dug my nails into the thick skin. A spray of tangy citrus juice shot out as I bent back the peel. “I was thinking that since we didn’t get around to teaching you how to use the phone on our last visit, you and I could do that today.” He glared at the small black device lying on the dresser. “Rebecca has already attempted to instruct me on its use, but I am not interested in learning. I have lived this long without the need to communicate with others instantly. I feel certain I will continue to survive in the same manner.” “Well, you should at least keep it charged in case you need it,” I suggested, ignoring his rejection of the device. His brow creased, and his head tilted to the side. “What do you mean charged?” “I’m so—” I stopped myself from apologizing and grimaced. “There are so many things we take for granted, it’s hard to know how much to explain. Did Becca bring a cord with it? Like a thin little rope?” “I believe so.” He opened a drawer and pulled out the charger. “Perfect!” I plugged in the charger and connected it to the device. “The phone has to have energy to work. Our power sources are wired into the walls of our buildings. Connect the device to the power source, and let it absorb power until it’s fully charged. Once you use up all the power, you’ll have to charge it again.” “Not unlike magic, then.” He looked thoughtfully at the phone and then toward the window. “Every time I explore the town, the people I see all carry this device. They either talk into it or stare at it endlessly as if bewitched by it.” “Phones can be pretty addictive,” I agreed as I sat back down in my chair. “I watched a man walk into a tree as he stared into the device and a woman transfixed while ignoring the cries of her young child. I understand the need to communicate with others, but I am not interested in losing sight of the world around me.” He sat down, this time in the other dining chair, and scowled at the phone warily. “You don’t have to be like those other people. In fact, I doubt you could be if you tried.” My gaze connected with his, summoning a flood of heat to my cheeks. “How about we let it charge for a bit, and I show you the basics on how to text, which is sending written messages back and forth to someone. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, but I think it’s important for you to know how just in case of an emergency.” “You are more persistent than I would have thought.” His eyes narrowed at me with playful scrutiny. “I suppose I could agree to a brief lesson.” I dropped my eyes to the orange as I finally separated the fleshy sections of fruit. “Growing up, it was just my mom and me, and she is super overprotective. If I wanted to do anything, I always had to argue and push.” “And your father?” I bit into a section of orange, closing my eyes as I savored the delicious flavor. “Oh, my God, this orange is amazing. You have to taste it.” I walked to where he stood and offered an orange wedge in my outstretched hand. He stared blankly at the offering for a moment. “It smells bitter.” “That’s just the peel. The fruit inside is delicious, and this one is particularly sweet—try it.” I held my hand even closer to him until he relented and picked up the fruit. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed, his eyes narrowing at me in suspicion. “Go on, it’s not a trick. I promise.” Fen bit into the fleshy fruit and licked the errant juice from his lips. A relay of electricity ran down my spine and coiled deep in my belly. I stumbled back to the safety of my chair, overcome with sensation. “You didn’t answer my question.” He popped the remainder of the orange slice into his mouth. “About my father?” I asked dumbly, suddenly unable to hold a thought. “He didn’t live with us—I never even knew who he was. It was just Mom and me. I always considered us alone in the world, but my alone was nothing like yours. I can’t imagine surviving what you went through.” As I finished, my eyes lifted back to his. Beneath his prominent brow, his dark eyes swirled with what I could only guess were memories of the hard life he’d led. “There is much in life we cannot control. We simply do our best to adapt, but for some, it is harder than others.” My eyes danced between Fen and my hands as I debated asking the burning question in my mind. “What is it you want to know?” he asked quietly. My hands stilled, and I smiled over at him. “Was I that transparent?” I teased before sobering. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I was wondering why you were exiled.”