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This conversation is not going the direction I need it to.
“Where'd you learn about death-speakers?” I ask instead, but as soon as that question's out of my mouth, I have an answer for it. “Thane.” Her eyes darken at my disdain. “So, he's why I'm suddenly a bad guy?”
“Actually, I learned about death-speakers from Natalie,” she says. “Thane just clarified, and you're a bad guy because you had a scythe under your jacket last night.”
“Are you absolutely certain you know what you saw?”
“Don't patronize me. Everyone knows what a scythe is. Question is, are you just a weirdo who likes to carry a weapon or are you—”
Her voice falters, eyes burning, but she's given me what I need.
“Or am I what, Anora?”
Her chest rises and falls quickly, and it's hard not to be aware of her when she’s this close. I should step away, leave, but this proximity untangles my chest.
“You've seen the blade before.”
And I’m betting the carrier was named Chase Lockwood.
Before we can continue our conversation, Anora's mom clears her throat. I step away and we turn to face Jayne in the doorway.
“Lunch is ready.”
Jayne waits at the door until Anora and I leave the room in front of her. It’s a shameful walk to the dining room and I didn’t even get a kiss out of it.
Lunch is awkward. I’m not sure if it’s because Jayne thinks Anora and I were making out, or because Anora glares at me from across the table as she eats. I decide not to let her keep me from enjoying free food.
“This meal is delicious, Ms. Silby.”
She smiles, the crow?
??s feet on either side of her eyes deepen. “Thank you, Shy. Cooking is a bit of a passion of mine.”
“My mom loves cooking, too,” I say. “Nothing frozen ever comes into our house.”
“We’ll have to have your mother and father over for dinner sometime.”
I can’t imagine my father sitting down to dinner with me, much less arriving at Anora’s to drink wine and chat with Jayne. Still I say, “They would love that.”
“Do you cook?” I’m looking at Anora now. She seems surprised by my question.
“With Mom,” she says.
“Anora’s being modest. She’s a great cook, but an even better baker.”
“You’ve been holding out on me,” I accuse playfully. “I demand cookies!”
“Mom’s over exaggerating. I’m not that great.”
“I am not!” she laughs. “She likes to bake at night. In New York, she had the whole house smelling like cake at midnight.”
Anora goes rigid in her seat at the mention of New York, but Jayne doesn’t seem to realize her error. I catch it, hold it tight and pin Anora with a pointed stare. Was that why Natalie couldn’t find Anora’s school record in Chicago? Because they were actually from New York? The same state where Chase Lockwood died?
Jayne continues, laughing. “Did I mention she likes to dance, too?”
“Dance?” I lift my brow, quirk my lips, watching her. What I’m really asking is New York?
“Mom’s...misremembering,” she says tightly.
