After working a fairly busy hour—apparentlyeverybodywanted to order some of those chrome balls they’d heard so much about from the last show—Scout went to the little manager’s room behind the cash register and put on his vest and cloak before running a little bit of oil through his hair to make the curls twirl in relief. He wasn’t sure why Lucky hadn’t noticed that his hair stuck out like a dark chestnut dandelion if it hadn’t been combed and oiled, but it was true.
When he emerged, Piers and Larissa were waving from the store’s entrance, both of them grinning happily, and Scout waved back, feeling bemused. It wasn’t that he didn’t like their company. He did, in fact, enjoy them both. They spoke the same language, much like Scout and Kayleigh, and once Piers got over his disappointment that Scout seemed to be taken, he was mostly friendly and helpful.
And Scout hadn’t expected that after six weeks of wishing sadly for Lucky to pay attention to him, finding a friend would be this simple.
Lucky wasn’t simple, and after seeing the world through books his entire life, he was starting to see that difference between friends and lovers the books were always talking about. Talking to Piers was uncomplicated. Even if Piers had something to add to the conversation, like asking if he should act skeptical when Scout was calling on him during the show, Scout felt free to disagree, to tweak, or generally banter with him.
But with Lucky things could turn suddenly intense when Scout was least expecting it.
Piers, for instance, wanted to be there when Scout, Kayleigh, and Lucky tried to make contact. He was excited about it, and so was Larissa.
Lucky had been terrified.
And while most of that fear had been on Scout’s behalf, some of it had been… well, becauseLuckywas afraid of losing Scout. It wasn’t just that Scout would belost, it would be that Lucky wouldn’t have him anymore.
And Scout was starting to realize exactly how real it was that somebody would care about Scout above all others. Scout knew he’d kill anybody—no hyperbole—for Kayleigh, but in a frighteningly short time, he realized he’d do the same thing for Lucky, and the thought scared him.
No amount of reading romance books had warned him that falling in love could be sointense, although heaven knows they tried.
And Scout had to clear his mind of all of that—which was really hard, because his skin felt all tingly after what he and Lucky had done in the dark of the night before—and focus on his act.
Even if it was only a cover for the fact that he really could do magic, he reallydidwant the act to improve.
“So,” he said, getting ready to do the juggling rings trick, “I need a volunteer from the audience. Who wants to come up and test these rings?”
He smiled, surveying the crowd. Some people were ignoring him and focusing on their ice cream or their fish and chips, but much of the crowd was right there with Piers and Larissa. Larissa had her hand in the air and was practically levitating like a feather in her desire to get picked. Piers had a bored expression and was simply holding his hand in the air as though he didn’t expect much.
Scout allowed his eyes to wander, pleased with their entire demeanor—choosing either one would look organic and natural—when his eyes fell on two guys sitting at a table tucked between a giant planter full of nasturtiums and the stair rail leading to the upper walkway.
They weren’t dressed right.
Scout and Kayleigh had learned a lot during those trips to Walmart as they’d traveled down the coast. They’d seen what people wore in upstate when it was cold, and they’d seen how the dress code seemed to relax a little as they drew near the South. It was still cool in the South, particularly as November neared, but there weren’t many days during which a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans didn’t do the trick. Add some tennis shoes or, even better, some shoes that would plod happily across a beach and you had a perfectly average holiday uniform. The resort people tended to wear khaki a lot, often cargo shorts and some sort of trendy deck shoe, with brand-name hoodies, but the general color scheme was either average “dad blue” or the colors of local colleges or lighter khaki clothes with bright tropical sweatshirts in specialty fabrics.
Scout had seen tourist wear, including his own, so often he’d stopped analyzing which clothes looked natural and which didn’t.
Until he saw the two guys in combat boots and frayed camouflage jackets and thought,They don’t belong here.
Without thinking about it, he sought Lucky’s eyes over the heads of the crowd.
Lucky was standing by the french doors, as he always was when Scout performed, even before he and Scout had spoken. Even from this distance, Scout could read the hesitation in his posture, could see his bitten lip, and his next thought wasHe’s going to run away.
Oh no.
No no no no no.
Scout couldn’t, absolutelywouldn’t,allow that to happen.
“So,” he said, looking straight at the two guys, both of them with long, unkempt hair and legs sprawled in front of them, tripping up the passersby. “Do you two gentlemen want to help me with my next trick?”
“Yeah, sure,” one of them sneered. He had a scraggly sort of beard, and Scout had the feeling the man would snap his neck like a twig, with or without witnesses. “We’ll be your best trick.” He leered then, and Scout managed not to throw up in his mouth.
“Excellent. Come up here, then?”
The two of them looked at each other and chuckled, and Scout gave Larissa and Piers a meaningful look so they could overcome their surprise.
Then he caught Lucky’s eye and looked at the two guys making their way up the stairs, their backs to Lucky, and gave a faint nod.
Lucky nodded back and then shook his head. Scout could read his lips as he mouthed, “Don’t.”
