“I tried, but I didn’t get so far. Maybe having you there will inspire me again.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, a feathered touch that made her ache. He hesitated, then smiled. “Only if you are ready.”
Alexa pondered over his hesitation, then his words. She deduced it as him trying to warn her off, but she was counting the hours until she could log out and calling Aunt Lena to make sure that Archie was taken care of.
“Hot date?” the older woman asked over the phone.
“No, just some errands.”
“Hot date,” Aunt Lena confirmed, seeing right through her excuses. “Do I know the guy?”
They would hold a protest over the guy, especially since they loved Isabella.
“No. Errands, Aunt Lena,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Hmm. Errands. Well, take your time. Have fun.”
“Running errands?” Alexa shot back, trying not to laugh.
“Sure. Make sure you get your fill with those errands and come home sated.”
“Bye, Aunt Lena,” she said loudly, mortified over the tittering from the other line. The walk towards the warehouse was soundless as she used the more crowded streets. She dove into the hidden entrance after double-checking her surroundings, then removed her coat along the way. Halfway through, a sense that she wasn’t alone petered in.
Edmund’s warning from earlier fleeted in her brain and had her approaching in stealth. When she peeked into the room he often used, her insides stuttered at the figures she spotted, crowded together on one side. He was on the other, listlessly swirling charcoal on a pad, a troubled expression blooming every time he ducked his head.
The Fae didn’t seem to notice, too busy changing poses and playing with each other’s hair. There were three females and two males, all of whom looked frailer than the ones she had encountered before, and had a muted kind of energy.
Don’t be an idiot. Just go.
She landed on the ground and cleared her throat, braced when heads turned her way. But she could only really focus on Edmund, who turned last and took a while getting out of whatever brooding zone he was in. Then his face just brightened as if the sight of her was enough, and it did something to her heart that made it pitter-patter madly.
In a blur, he was on her and embracing her. She took the opportunity to sniff him and delighted in the hint of oil and lavender.
“You made it,” he said. Then, “You didn’t leave.”
“The night is young,” she answered lightly, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “My aunt thinks I’m out on a date.”
“What a lucky date that man is,” he teased, then caught on and turned to the five. “Alexa, meet the gang. Gang, this is a good friend of mine. She will be here to observe.”
The so-called gang waved, then returned to their poses. No one paid her much attention other than the initial curiosity, so she wandered over to Edmund. The smudged pad indicated his dilemma, so she clutched his hand and squeezed.
“Take a deep breath. Try again.”
“I only have them tonight. I promised them a place to stay after.” His voice was wistful. “They are nomads with a mission. I don’t know what the mission is, but they will be gone by tomorrow.”
“You can do it. I know you can.”
He smiled at the trust, then squared his shoulders and put up a new pad. She stayed out of view, watching his work and their activity before deducing that they weren’t the rowdy type. One female caught her eye and puzzled over her, then offered her a smile. It entranced, but something in the features and expression had things clicking.
Half, her mind supplied. It called to her, reminding her this wasn’t the one she feared the most—that that life was so long ago and it was time to be less judgmental. A lot of Alexa’s hang-ups unfurled at that moment, then hissed out of her body as she smiled back.
“Is everything okay, Ed?” a male Fae asked, hair spilling over his face in a cloud of blue and gray.
“Yes,” Edmund replied, then hesitated.
Alexa stood up. “It’s missing something.”
The announcement had all attention back towards her, but this time, she felt lighter than ever.
“What do you think it’s missing?” another female Fae asked, combing her hair. “Is it my hair? Did it lose its shine?”