“French toast.” Earth terminology confused her. “Wait, no. He made something similar to it. Rhymey words. Swe—”
“Sweet wheat?” she almost yelled.
I winced. “Yes, that’s it.”
Her hands dropped to her sides with a slap. “I will be having a talk with Ziggy.”
The paranoia struck again. If I thought my entire world was falling down when Astaroth reappeared, I was wrong. That was only the beginning of it tearing away from the seams. I latched onto her forearms, shaking her. “Did he poison me? Am I gonna die, Jess?”
She made a sound in the back of her throat that I’d never heard her make before. I let go and took a hesitant step back, ready to run if she attacked me, not that I would make it far. Her stride was twice mine.
Jessandra’s lips twitched before they spread over her face, showing all her teeth. They were perfectly straight and just as scary as Astaroth’s.
“Are you… you’re laughing!” I huffed, pushing the loose strands out of my face and loosening my bun more, before flinging my arms out in front me. “I am dying, and you’re laughing at me!”
The sound got louder, her eyes glossier, as she mimicked my earlier pose.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered and crossed my arms over my chest. I guessed I wasn’t dying, so that was a plus, and it alleviated some of my panic. “What’s wrong with me?”
My heart rate slowed as Jessandra guffawed in the middle of the street. She was not one to laugh. Hell, I didn’t even think she’d ever had a good time. Her idea of fun was going to battle and kicking someone or something’s ass. Seeing her lose her uptight composure in the middle of the street was comical. I pursed my lips to keep from laughing when she sucked in a breath and made a donkey sound.
“That’s enough, really,” I said.
Jessandra stood up and wiped her glistening cheeks. “Ooooh,” she breathed, but it was choppy, mixed with the final chuckles working themselves free. She reminded me of Santa Claus, but instead of “ho, ho, ho,” it was “oh, oh, oh.”
“Are you done?”
She looked at me and lost it again. I dropped my head back and threw my arms out to my sides, about to yell at the powers that be to save me and take me away from this awful place.
“Wow,” I whispered, taking in the vibrant, dreamlike, cotton candy sky. “It’s so…”
“Euphoric?” Jessandra finished for me.
“Yeah.” I turned to her. The smile on her face relaxed, more human than fae. “I was going to say beautiful, but euphoric fits.”
She tugged me close to her side, arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I stiffened out of fear of what she would do next. Our recent fight was wedged tightly in the half inch gap between us.
“It has set in. You should feel better from here on out.”
I pulled out of her hold. “What has set in?”
“The euphoria. It will last most of the day, but the intense part is over.”
Then it hit me. The giggles this morning with Astaroth instead of being scared or angry, the happiness that turned into paranoia in a split second when I should have been miserable to begin with—I was high as a kite on Faery drugs.
“Ziggy fed me an edible.” That little shit.
“Well, yes. It is edible. That is why we eat it.”
I shook my head. “No, he fed me drugs cooked into the food.”
“Ah,” Jessandra grasped what I was saying. “Yes and no. The food is the drug.”
“Remind me to never eat anything he makes ever again.”
“You will change your mind.” She nudged me forward. “Come, we have much to do, and I am withering.”
A goblin passing us with his wagon of goods sneered at her. Jessandra returned it tenfold. He jerked on the rope handle, mumbling, “I wished she would wither like the rest of us.”
