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“She has been off with her temper lately. Always blowing up, always getting mad. Always using her magic when she explodes. A few nights ago…”
“Pearl, what happened a few nights ago?”
“She hurt a man. I won’t tell you who, and I doubt she will, either. We fixed it and no one died, and I think it has been eating her up, but she is still mad about something.” Gray-white orbs flared. “I trust you not to mention this to anyone.”
“Of course not.”
“Good. I doubt it will happen again, either. But the temper…it’s not the Ruby I know.”
It wasn’t the Ruby he knew, either, because the one who had been on the ship with him and spent time on multiple islands with him had been the most compassionate soul, even to her enemies. “I will keep an eye on her.”
“Distract her,” was the gentle request. “Keep her mind off whatever is making her mad and keep her from using her magic as much as possible. We need it at its fullest for what’s coming.”
Maddox wondered if Pearl knew thatheknew, but neither brought it up. He nodded. “Okay. And Pearl?”
“Hmm?”
“You have nothing to worry about. I will protect her with my life.”
He spent a few more hours with Milos, spent another hour or two with Moon, and finally made his way home with his muscles and bones tired but his soul filled with satisfaction. Still revved up, Maddox went to the kitchen to start making dinner, then paused at the click on his front door. He peered at Ruby, who stood on the doorstep.
“Can I come in?”
Something in her tone wasn’t right. They hadn’t discussed living arrangements since they had first slept here, and their days had been too busy and sporadic to even think about it. But he nodded.
“Come on in. I’m making dinner. Did you eat yet?”
“No, not yet.”
Ruby marched in, stopped at the living room, and began to pace. Her furrowed brows and thinned lips matched her tone, so he turned back to his stir-fry as she tried to figure it out. When he was done, he divided the food into two plates and strolled over to hand her one.
“Tell me what happened.”
She stared at her plate, then reluctantly let him lead her to the kitchen island. They sat beside each other as he dug into his food, while she played with hers before her fork clanged on the plate.
“I got into a confrontation with a resident. She cornered me and accused me of ugly things.”
“What ugly things?”
“Coming back here. That my sisters and I should have just left and never returned. Coming here with you.”
The words were mild. He suspected more had been said based on the way she gripped her spoon now, close to bending it, but she was battling to keep it inside her. He nudged her knee.
“Eat. The food’s getting cold.”
She stopped playing with her food and ate a small portion, then pushed it aside. Maddox didn’t say a word as he handed her a glass of wine next. She watched him down his glass and mirrored the movement, then slammed it down and pushed off the chair.
“Aren’t you mad that people are saying ugly things about you? That people are seeing us together and it’s ruining the reputation you so carefully built?”
There was the issue, coming to him like clouds being parted. The agitation of it was like an invisible storm building inside her, its release forthcoming. He recalled Pearl’s worry and chose his words.
“No, I’m not mad.”
“Why not? It’s insult after insult every single day.” She threw her hands in the air, expression wracked with hurt and the need to let it out. “It’s bad looks and even worse words because they can get away with it. Why would it not bother you?”
“Because I doubt I would have been friends with judgmental folks like them, anyway, in a normal situation. What they say doesn’t matter to me because they don’t matter to me. I have heard worse—and been treated worse—in my old home.”
That stopped her in her tracks as she comprehended what he was saying. Compassion blazed, the one he recognized so well and knew was her innate nature. But her fingers still glowed and her energy was present, dark and threatening to swallow her with even more negativity.
