Page List


Font:  

I could point out that Sebastian doesn’t live with Mathias, but instead I shrug as we enter town. “Fine. Give me the dog. Our deputy will be thrilled to have—”

“It is too late. Raoul is accustomed to me.”

“Then I’ll take Sebastian back and—”

“He is accustomed to me as well. And it is my duty to monitor him, for the sake of the town. No one else is equipped or trained for such a task.”

“You’re just bitching for the sake of bitching, aren’t you?”

“I do not bitch. I simply point out that you need to stem this flow of strays. You have barely removed one when another takes her place.”

I stop and look at him. “What?”

“You have a visitor. She is in the town square. William attempted to show her the hospitality of the police station, but she is another of your wild things and refuses to go indoors. She is with Raoul and Sebastian. Raoul is guarding her. Sebastian is…” He purses his lips. “I am not certain what he is doing. Perhaps drinking in the rare beauty of this wilderness flower. Perhaps considering the myriad ways he could kill her with maximum efficiency, should she prove a threat. He may be doing both simultaneously. It is Sebastian.”

I pick up my pace, breaking into a jog as I shout back,“Next time, Mathias? Cut the preamble and get to the damned point.”

“That would be no fun at all,” he calls after me.

THIRTY-FIVE

When Mathias says we’ve attracted another woman from the woods, hinting she’s young and attractive, my first thought is Cherise. Yet when I draw close, I spot a small dark-haired figure, one who is younger and significantly more welcome than Cherise. It’s Edwin’s granddaughter, Felicity.

Sebastian is neither gaping at her nor plotting her demise. He’s playing host, pulling out his charm and his manners and his high-society upbringing, telling Felicity a story complete with blazing smiles and dramatic gestures. There’s no flirtation there. Yes, she’s his age and pretty, but if he’s noticed that, he’s tucked it aside, as if it would be rude to see her as anything but a guest in need of hospitality.

As for Felicity …

I remember when I was thirteen, and my mother sent me to finishing school. Okay, it wasn’t called “finishing school.” I’m not sure those exist anymore, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have attended. It was billed as weekly classes for teen girls to learn teen-girl stuff, everything from putting on makeup to protecting yourself online.

I might never have been the most feminine girl, but I was not opposed to learning the secret language of stiletto heels and smoky eyeliner. While the class offered that, it was more like a finishing school, with lessons for privileged y

oung ladies to learn to act like privileged young ladies.

I was privileged. I took private lessons and flew business class—well, unless there weren’t enough seats, and then my parents put April and me in economy, supposedly as a lesson so we’d grow up vowing to get the kind of careers that meant we never needed to fly coach again.

The point is that those girls should have been my people. Except I was a half-Asian tomboy from the suburbs, and they were all white, elegant, and city-bred. I felt like a gawky country girl stumbling into a debutante ball.

That’s how Felicity looks sitting beside Sebastian. She follows his story stone-faced, her gaze locked on him in a look of barely concealed panic. Not so much transfixed as held captive, fearing if she moves a single muscle she’ll reveal herself as a teenager from a very different planet than the one this self-assured and animated boy clearly inhabits.

When Sebastian sees me, he smiles and stands with “Hey, Casey,” and I swear Felicity deflates in relief.

“I was keeping Felicity company while she waited,” he says. “Talking her ear off with my boring stories.” He flashes a smile her way. “Sorry.”

“Yes.” Color rises on her cheeks. “I mean, yes, you were keeping me company. No, your stories were not boring.” She flails a moment, as if struggling to find the girl I met the other day, the one who’d been equally self-assured in her natural environment. “I came to talk to you, Casey.”

“And now you can,” Sebastian says. “You’re free of my awkward hospitality.”

“Yes.” Another mortified flush. “I mean, yes, she’s here, and yes, you do not need to stay with me any longer. Thank you for keeping me company. It was very kind.”

He grins. “My pleasure. I will leave you in Casey’s capable hands.”

He jogs off, and Felicity watches him go.

“How … old is he?” she asks tentatively.

“Nineteen. He’s our youngest resident.”

“Oh. I am eighteen. Angus is twenty, and that boy seems … older, but he didn’t look it, so I thought … I suppose that is how boys are, down south.”


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Rockton Mystery