Page 70 of Heart of Mischief

He eyed it skeptically. “You brought me lunch?”

“Don’t be too flattered.” She tossed the plastic-wrapped ham-and-cheese onto his lap. “I bring an extra sandwich for Lou every day.”

“You do? Why?”

She lowered herself onto the stairs, keeping a few feet between them. “Because she’s always hungry but refuses to spend any money on food.”

He chuckled. “I know how that is. My friend Mikey was the same. Had more than enough money to pay for his own ice cream but never would.”

Charlie looked over at him in surprise.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s… weird. Hearing you talk about your past.” She toyed with the plastic. “Picturing you as a normal kid with normal friends who ate normal ice-cream cones.”

“Well, I wouldn’t gothatfar,” he said, unwrapping his sandwich. “I was never ‘normal.’ At least, I hope not—normal is boring.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but for some reason, those words made Charlie’s heart skip a beat.

“But I get what you’re saying,” Elias went on, taking a bite of the ham-and-cheese. “To you, I’m like how kids see their parents. They came from nowhere. They were born as adults, complete with diaper bags and a minivan. Me, on the other hand…” He winked at Charlie. “I materialized in the forest one day as a fully grown eighteen-year-old with a devastatingly handsome face and a secret ability to turn into a shadow demon.”

“Pretty much.”

He smirked. “I have a past, Charlotte. Everyone does.”

Her heart skipped another beat.This is it.This was her opening. Her opportunity to learn more about how he’d become a mare—and how to undo that process.. She would have to play it right, though. Casual and light. Just a girl curious about the life of the boy sitting next to her.

“Is that so?” she asked. “Because if we’re being honest here, I know next to nothing about your past. And what Idoknow, I had to pry out of you like a lid on an old jar of sticky strawberry jelly.”

“Andshe’s good with words.” He shook his head. “Add it to the ever-growing list of your remarkable qualities.”

“Oh, please.” She snorted. “Enough with the insincere flattery; it won’t win you any favors.”

“It wasn’t insincere,” he said, taking another bite of his sandwich, “but all right.”

They fell silent, then, Elias chewing contentedly and gazing out at the trees, Charlie staring down at the sandwich on her lap. Her fingernails dug into her palms.Don’t listen to him, she urged herself.He’s just trying to get on your good side. He doesn’t mean it.

“However,” Elias went on, “if it really means that much, I’ll tell you. About my past. About my time as anormal kid with normal friends, as you say.”

She looked over at him, raising her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Sure.” He laughed hollowly. “You already know about the worst thing that ever happened to me. We can only go up from there, right?”

There it was again—the melting sensation in her chest. A thawing, like an icicle caught in the first rays of spring sunshine.

“Right,” she said quietly.

“So.” He tore off a slice of crust. “Ask away.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. Nor had she expected thatshewould be the one steering the conversation. She wanted to gather her thoughts, but there was no time. “Uh, okay. Well. Let’s start with the basics. You once told me you grew up in rural Illinois—not eastern Michigan, like everyone at school thinks. Is that true?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “When I first got to Silver Shores, I lied about where I was from because I didn’t want people snooping into my past. But what I toldyouwas the truth. I’m from a tiny town called Rochelle, about an hour and a half from Chicago. Population: nine thousand. Famous for the absolutely thrilling fact of being at the intersection of two important railroads. Next question.”

“Was it a nice place to grow up?”

He shrugged. “Nice enough.”

“You lived on a farm, right?”