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She collapses on top of me, and I wrap my arms around her. When I finally regain some semblance of control, I notice her eyes are closed, and she looks completely relaxed. I've never seen a more peaceful look on anyone.
It's absolutely beautiful.
19
FELICITY
Avoid checking his Topside papers and regret it.I don't know why I insist on torturing myself with a message that doesn't make sense no matter how much I read it. Argoss has been insatiable lately, which hasn’t helped motivate me to look into the note. I’m obviously not going to like what I find and I’m afraid I don’t want to know.
But still, here I am pacing back and forth in Argoss’ master bathroom, or one of them, hoping I suddenly figure out where I should be looking.Top drawer. Right side.The words come easily to me since I’ve inadvertently memorized them since finding the note two days ago.
Use this if you don’t believe me.These words, above everything else on the page, sting the most. I can tell because they always almost make me cry. Emphasis on almost.
“Because this really comes in handy with vague directions in a place that’s got seven bathrooms,” I say to no one.
I unfold the note, because I’m a glutton for punishment, and let the vial of mystery solution fall into my palm. What happened to people minding their own business? Fucking off and not spreading lies perhaps?
He’s worse than he lets on.I know the demon isn’t the friendliest guy in town, but he's far from the petty behavior that destroys most of his peers. At least where their chances of a healthy relationship are concerned. Romantic, personal, professional, or all of the above.
And as far as I can tell, Argoss has all of these. His birthday party was swimming with colleagues and associates. Would that happen if he were somehow the worst Underdweller of them all?
I sniff the vial for clues despite myself. It’s what I always do when I get my hands on any solution that's magical. I groan at the smell of nothing but plastic. How am I even supposed to use this anyway? Shouldn’t things like this come with directions? And a map to the papers maybe?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I hear myself say as a tear hits the page for the first time
I try to wipe off the evidence and manage to make it worse, smearing a few of the words with a salty tear and trembling thumb.
“Olly, olly, oxen free!” comes Lucy’s voice through a window overlooking the backyard. I watch the youngling glide a few feet off the ground, sidesaddle like I’ve been asking.
Not because I think she needs to be anyone’s version of a lady but her own. She just lands better on both her feet.
“Let’s see you do a flip!” Steve calls, emerging from beneath a wood pile overlooking the Briarwood River. The bonfire pit close to the shore is a new purchase and one Lucy has become fascinated with. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to see the girl learn how to spell-cast a fireball in the next few months.
“Can’t!“ Lucy yells back, shifting her direction to meet Steve halfway.
It’s times like these that I’m lucky Argoss has people around him. I’ve been watching the way Steve interacts with Lucy, and he’s both playful and stern.
He’s always willing to stop and chat, but I’ve never seen him hesitate to send her on her way. The man does almost all the groundskeeping work himself, meaning he can’t let the ramblings and tall tales of the boss’s daughter keep him from doing his job.
“Can’t or won’t? You’re no chicken!” He catches his breath while Lucy hops from her broom and sticks the landing.
“Can’t. Mom says no.” I smile at her responsible and accurate answer.
“Well, that’s smart,” Steve says, supporting my theory that he deserves a raise. “Not till you start learning with Dad, right?”
His words hit me in the chest. I rub at the spot between my breasts where it tingles the most as the demon’s words fill my head.
“Hopefully Felicity says yes soon!” My face falls as she turns to look up at me. She waves and I do the same, then scurry back and out of sight.
I go through four different top drawers in his walk-in closet before moving to his home office. I find what I’m looking for in his desk, which tells me it must be one hell of a forgery if it can be left out in the open.
I keep my own birth certificate in a file inside a box under my bed, but it’s real and only needs to be somewhere secure. Not hidden like a poor fake, only to be taken out under the worst case scenario. His papers being here tells me he shows them off a lot. I wonder if he would’ve shown me had I asked.
I hold the thick parchment paper in my hand, testing its durability by trying to tear it. Nothing happens other than I prove it’s enchanted, which is no big mystery, since real identification papers are, too. After checking out the window to see Steve fertilizing a patch of dry grass, I run through the house until I find Lucy.
She’s still on her broom but in the front yard, hovering around in circles side-saddle. The tips of her bare toes skim the grass, and the next thing I know, my breath catches in my throat. How did this sight go from adorable to sad?
I focus again on the problem at hand. If his papers are faked, there has to be a reason for it. And I’m sure it has everything to do with not actually coming through the legal way, the controlled way.
