We walk in the frozen night, heading toward the Poison Apple. Red’s long, fire-colored hair rolls down her back in waves that the icy wind occasionally picks up off her long jacket. Against the gray, dull Boston streets, the girl is a bright beacon of color and life. She strides on without a clue of the warmth she leaves in her wake.
What is she?
Like she said, Red doesn’t have power, but still, she is something I’ve never encountered before. On top of her already natural, delicious cinnamon scent is that essence I want to run my nose along until it stays inside me. That way I can pick it apart and discern her truth.
Another question pops into my mind. The one plaguing me all day.
Don’t do it, wolf. Don’t ask anything about her life. You live in the silence that surrounds you right now. Do not break it like a clumsy hammer. Let it lie.
“What are you studying so hard anyway?”
Dammit.
Red tilts her head to look up at me. “It’s my financial audit class. I’m studying to be a financial advisor.”
“The granddaughter of the most powerful witch in the entire world, heir to the lifestyle brand pervading every major chain in the world and you . . . you want to be an accountant?”
Red grabs one bicep as if she is trying to keep herself from hitting me.
“A financial advisor,” she corrects. “And what is wrong with that?”
I shrug. “It’s just so . . . human.”
A smile breaks on her face and she is suddenly beaming. “Thank you.”
I shake my head. This girl is ridiculous.
Her smile wanes. “Where I come from, mages are constantly in competition, trying to exert their power over each other in one way or another. One way is with money. But if you have power over your money, you have power over your future.”
“Says the girl who rejects one of the biggest fortunes known to man, mage, or fae.” My tone is coarse and judgmental to my own ears, though I meant it as a point of fact.
Her lower lip juts out in a pout that makes my pants a little tighter. Her eyes turn serious, and a dark glint sparkles in them. “It’s not my fortune.”
“Your grandma cut you off then?”
A line forms between her eyebrows. “No, but in order to understand how to manage money, I need to learn how to work with what most of the world does. I’m learning to be like everyone else.”
Now, I make sure to sound as condescending as possible. “You’re a princess playing peasant.”
Red rears on me, stopping us in the middle of the sidewalk. Anger vibrates through her body, as if she’s gearing up to knock out my teeth. “No, I’m not, you judgmental prick.”
Oh damn. Anger flashes in her eyes like the fire in her hair. Why do I like it? Why do I want to push her harder? Get her to hit me like she had before we fucked?
“Sure you are. If you acknowledge money is power, why are you rejecting it? Do you think being human means being powerless? Which really makes you the same as all those in the mage cities who think humans are plebs. You want to be a big fish in a small pond, even if they don’t notice you lurking below them. Watching their pathetic lives like a voyeur.”
The flush that started at the base of her neck explodes in her face. “No, of course I don’t think that. I’m not an asshole. I’m not any better than a human.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and begin to walk again, forcing her to follow. “Oh, so that’s it. You have shitty self-esteem, and you feel you are even less than a human. So, it’s like self-exile because this is all you deserve. Did mommy and daddy abandon you and now you have something to prove?”
Words came out in an incoherent sputter for several minutes. “My self-esteem is just fine, you narcissistic asshole. My father was a human who left my mother pregnant and alone, and she was loving and wonderful until she died when I was four. I have nothing to prove to either of them. And I don’t have to accept this crap. The shit you’re saying tells me about howyouoperate. Clearly, you are the one here who thinks you are better than any human.”
I whirl on her, and she stumbles back a step to keep from running into me. “You’re damn right I am. I’m better than any human, mage, or fae you’ll ever meet. I’m a survivor, and that’s the most important quality one can possess in a cruel, unforgiving world like ours.”
Her pale eyes round as they search mine, as if she’s looking for any evidence there is more to me. That I’m not an absolute asshole I’m acting the part of. But she won’t find it. This is how I am, and I don’t apologize. Not for anyone.
Resisting the urge to poke her in the shoulder, I fist my hands in my pockets. “I’m the only thing keeping you safe right now, which is why you need to listen to me and do what I say.”
The conversation has spiraled out from under my control. I realize I’m angry. Angry at her, and I’m actively trying to push her away. Wrestling for any inch of freedom against this insistent need to ask her about her life, against the strong desire to run my thumb over those pouty lips. It juts out even more than before.
