Page 16

16

Luna

T he rough outline I had sketched of Vincent was becoming clearer.

The new lines were crisp, and the colors were filled in.

He didn’t live in Andiveron House.

When he’d told me of his morning and evening walks in the park, I’d questioned the proximity to his family home, but then I’d decided the distance of the walk might be the appeal.

I hadn’t even imagined this scenario—his own apartment.

It was too foreign a concept for old fae.

Vincent seemed to freeze as we stood at the entry to his home.

It was as if he took it in with fresh eyes while I hung in his arms.

After everything I’d learned about him in the last ten days, it really shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did.

It was just that no member of an old fae family left their home.

I didn’t count, as I hadn’t ever been invited.

The door opened into a pristine living space.

There was no way he’d intended to have me as a visitor today, but not an item was out of place.

A brown leather sofa sat against one wall, and a sturdy wooden table and chairs were along the other.

The kitchen, with a wood-burning stove, was beyond a half wall, and the apartment seemed to extend farther back, presumably to a bedroom.

I pursed my lips as his wind set me on the sofa.

After meeting his parents tonight, I could imagine a few reasons why he’d want to leave.

It wasn’t done, though.

He was old fae; he didn’t have some complicated half-fae heritage like me.

I thought of his sister, Skye.

They seemed so close.

I would have never guessed they didn’t live under the same roof.

He mumbled something soft, putting a pillow under my foot to lift it, and disappeared into another room.

Feeling safe and completely mystified by my surroundings, I replayed the evening.

No matter my attempts to dissuade us, the meal had felt like a date.

We’d barely discussed the bargain or any comparable ways Vincent could position the inn to match the restaurant’s success.

After my initial attempt at distance, talking about Darius, we’d slipped into easy conversation.

It hadn’t only been easy; it had been engaging.

Vincent intrigued me on every level.

He’d been so dismissive and rude at our first meeting—I remembered clearly that he hadn’t engaged with most of Earl’s attempts at conversation; he’d only done so when the opportunity to insult the tavern presented itself.

I had to believe he hid behind that dismissive distance because it was far from the male I’d gotten to know since making our bargain.

Vincent was accustomed to being used for his family name and taste-maker status.

It seemed even his parents weren’t above suggesting his next article.

My body warmed in embarrassment at how easily I’d fallen into that same pattern—what he must have thought of me .

His wind whipped around me as he returned to the room with an armful of supplies.

The wind was the most confusing thing of all.

It didn’t seem to match any other part of him.

Even if I ignored Vincent’s initial arrogance, he was still a fae of propriety.

He often seemed embarrassed by its actions.

As his wind wound through my hair, it had no such compunction.

I liked it and was dying to know how much was within his control.

“How much does it hurt?” he asked.

I shook my head, not sure what he was referring to.

“Your foot.” He gestured.

“Truth be told, I’d forgotten about it.”

He flushed at my words.

I reached toward my foot.

My slipper was still on, but I winced as my toes wiggled.

A piece of glass was still lodged through the slipper into my skin.

Vincent had a bucket of water, a rag, soap, and strips of cloth with him.

He set it all down and kneeled beside me.

“Let me.” His hands were warm.

He must have run them under warm water when he’d filled the bucket.

I held my breath as he lifted my foot, examining the damage.

“It doesn’t look too deep, but I’ll need to pull it out and remove the slipper to be sure.”

I nodded, not remembering the last time someone had worried over me quite so needlessly.

“It’s a small piece of glass.”

He glanced sideways at me.

“I’ll pull it out on three. One.” His fingers wrapped around the large sliver.

“Two.” He held my gaze, his brown eyes saying too much.

They were so apologetic.

His guilt was apparent, even though there was no conceivable way this was his fault and the damage was minor.

“Three.” He glanced down and pulled.

I didn’t even feel it come out.

He placed it on the table beside him, then tugged off my slipper.

His brow furrowed as he leaned in to consider the slice.

He brought the bucket of water closer to my foot and pulled out a rag, wringing it before using it to wash the cut.

“Vincent, you don’t have to do that.” I swatted at him and reached for the cloth.

“Give that here.”

He held it back.

“Just let me. You won’t see if you’ve cleaned it from that side.”

I wasn’t sure if he had a point, but he looked so intent on washing my foot as he rinsed the rag and scrubbed gently again, this time with soap.

I let him continue, leaning back against the armrest as he worked.

His movements were careful, like I was a fragile thing to cherish—the opposite of everything his parents had said about me.

“Vincent.” He glanced up through long lashes as he knelt at my feet.

Warmth bloomed in my chest, and I wasn’t quite sure why.

“What were you going to say before your parents arrived?”

His chuckle was low, almost dark.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

I reached for his chin before I could stop myself.

My fingers lifted his gaze to meet mine.

“It does to me.” I swallowed.

“They proved my question even more true than I could have realized.”

He winced.

“Sorry,” I said, realizing that sounded harsh.

His parents had said I wasn’t significant enough to matter.

“Don’t be.” He wrung the rag again.

The water was a brownish red from the dirt and my blood, but he kept going.

“Funny enough, I wanted to say I had perfect examples of how not to act. My parents have always been that way. The more society changed around them, the more they clung to harmful and inaccurate beliefs about magic.”

“That’s why you left?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

He seemed satisfied with cleaning my foot.

“The bleeding has stopped, but I will wrap it anyway.” He pulled the strips of cloth from his pile of work items.

Before I could protest, he continued, “That’s not the only reason I left. ”

A light breeze swirled around the room, and I thought I knew.

“Your wind.”

He looked up, something close to awe in his gaze at my inherent understanding.

Of course it was his wind.

It was the most unique thing about him.

Any old fae family would find it odd, especially if it was so playful all the time.

“So, it’s always like this?” I raised my hand and let the breeze wrap around it.

He laughed.

It was the first real one I’d heard since his parents had appeared in the restaurant.

“Not quite.”

His wind swept through his hair as if to sass him.

“It’s always been…energetic, but its infatuation with you is new.” The tips of his high cheekbones pinked, and I wanted to lean forward and press my lips to them.

Where did that come from?

His words sped up as he realized what he’d said.

“My parents never appreciated that my wind wanted to be used. They believe magic should be powerful and present but more like a status symbol than an actual part of life. Mine strongly disagreed.”

The wind whipped around the room in a frenzy.

“I can understand that.”

“At some point, it all became too much for us. My parents not only punished me when it acted out, but they did everything they could to control it. When I was old enough to figure out how to provide for myself without them, I left.” He swallowed.

“I tried to take Skye with me. She didn’t want to go. She may disagree with my parents, but she isn’t one for confrontation.” He tilted his head.

“Neither am I, but my magic left me no choice. Hers is...much more naturally what’s expected of old fae family magic, so it was never a problem.”

I didn’t even know what to say.

He’d finished bandaging my foot, but his hands were still wrapped around the arch, like he didn’t want to let go.

I understood the feeling .

He looked around the room again as if suddenly becoming self-conscious about where we were.

“I’m sorry, I’ve not had anyone here before. I don’t think I have anything to offer you.” He glanced down to where he still held my foot and startled as if he’d forgotten what he was doing.

Setting it down gently on the couch, he cleared his throat.

“I can get you a carriage home.”

His befuddlement was beyond adorable.

It was another part of him that didn’t mix with the rest.

I wiggled my toes to check for pain.

He’d done more than was necessary for my foot.

I wasn’t even sure it required this.

Slowly, I sat up, pressing my foot to the floor to test it.

“You shouldn’t?—”

I held up my hand, checking my weight on my foot.

I didn’t feel a thing.

Satisfied, I stood and reached for him where he was still on his knees before me.

He glanced up, and I wasn’t prepared for the look that crossed his face.

Desire dared to be there, and I couldn’t deny it also throbbed in my chest.

I wanted to respect his wishes and get out of his private space, but I wasn’t quite ready for the night to end if he wasn’t.

“I think we should get a drink,” I said, smoothing my dress back into place.

Hesitantly, he took my hand as he stood.

“I want to take you somewhere. A place where we don’t have to think about the column, my father, or our bargain. In fact, we both should promise not to think of those things at all.”

“Another bargain, Miss Pierce. Didn’t we learn our lesson the first time?”

“I’m not sure what lesson you’ve learned, but our first bargain has only left me wanting more.” Maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

We’d been spending so much time prepping for my thing—the article—I hadn’t had to consider the price of our current agreement.

I pushed away the thought, wanting to enjoy this moment, this side of Vincent I’d only started to glimpse .

“A bargain of only benefits. We both agree to have fun in the city by the bay.”

He looked at me like he didn’t think he deserved the offer.

Like he was ready to refuse.

“Before you say no, please remember your parents said terrible things about me today.”

He looked horrified, his face paling.

I smirked, squeezing his hand tighter as he tried to snatch it away.

“I’m kidding.” I tilted my head.

“Well, I’m not kidding. They did that, but I would never hold it against you. I’m teasing. You can, of course, say no if you want.” He opened his mouth, and I rambled: “If it makes a difference, I really don’t want you to say no.”

His smile lit up the dark room.

“What about your foot?”

I waved my hand.

“It’s fine, and I’m sure your wind will help me if I need it—maybe even if I don’t.”

He laughed at that.

“Indeed. Alright. Where are we going?”

I shimmied with glee as I slid my foot back into the slipper.

“It’s a surprise,” I said, not letting go of his hand as I dragged him back into the night.