Page 56

Story: Rhapsodic

I grab the container of cookie dough ice cream and pull it out, setting it on the island bar. “Spoon?”

He opens the drawer next to him and tosses it to me. I barely manage to catch the thing before it takes out an eyeball.

I’m about to scoop out a bite of the ice cream when I catch sight of a white paper bag next to him.

No. Effing. Way. “Are those … ?” I can’t even ask it.

“French macaroons from Douglas Café,” he finishes for me.

Forgetting about the ice cream, I get up and head over to Des. “Douglas is far away.” Half a world away.

“Ley lines, cherub,” he says.

“Can I?” I ask, indicating the bag.

“They’re for you.” He watches me as I reach around him.

Hesoplanned on me being here tonight. I wonder if he planned on the evening turning out the way it had, or if he had something else entirely up his sleeve. Knowing what a trickster he is, I wouldn’t be surprised on the latter.

His eyes flick to the ice cream. It lifts off the table, floating towards the freezer. One of the sleek, stainless steel refrigerator doors open, and the ice cream slides in. The spoon soars back across the room, the drawer opening in time for it to clatter inside.

Seeing all this brings a cozy warmth to the pit of my stomach, the kind that comes with happy, familiar memories.

I pull out a pink macaroon and take a bit into it.

I let out a long, deep moan.

It’s perfect.

“Des, you are a god,” I say in between bites. It’s been years since I’ve had any macaroons at all, and Douglas Café’s were always the best.

“King,” he corrects. His lips have quirked, lightening that stare of his. But it’s turning mischievous.

He steps in close, taking the paper bag from me and setting it aside, along with the partially eaten macaroon. “You’ve had a trying evening, Callie.”

I stare at him warily, feeling like that little bug trapped in a spider’s web all over again.

“How would you like to postpone going to the Otherworld until morning?” I feel his breath against my skin. “What if tonight we just had a little fun?”

My pulse begins to pound.

Be prepared for more than just a kiss.

“What did you have in mind?”

But it’s already too late. He grabs my wrist, his fingers grazing over all his beads.

“Time for a truth, cherub: what would you most like to do tonight?”

The magic wraps around my throat, tugging at my windpipe. There are a million things my dirty mind would be quite happy doing, so I’m surprised when I say, “I want to swim in the ocean.”

I guess it’s really that simple.

Des smiles at me, and for once it’s genuine. “Alright, let’s take you to the ocean then.”

He leads me back outside and then, wrapping me up in his arms, he flies us down the cliffs behind his home to a tiny little alcove of a beach.

I step out of his arms, listening to the crash of the waves. It calls to me, each slick splash of the water beckoning me closer and closer. Absently, I kick off my shoes and pull off my socks.