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Chapter seven

Peaches, Lies, and Ants

R ai’s master plan was not working at all.

He was supposed to be bored of Poppy by now, to have left her to her mundane human life while he went back to rampaging across the desert—at least until the monsoon had ended and it was time to move on to another part of the world.

Because her life was boring. From what she had told him, all she did was work on her computer—which he had determined was something like the electricity-infused “phone” she used to text and take pictures, except larger—spend time with her mother, and walk places.

She could not fly. She could not summon lightning.

She could not even do the tiniest bit of child’s magic.

And while it had been diverting to see how the supermarket had harnessed water and electricity, to watch the currents of lightning traveling from the place where people walked on the floor to the controls that opened the door for them, in the end it was passive and disconnected from true experience.

Humans were surrounded by wonders, and they moved among them like they were nothing but insects made of dried, lifeless mud .

But Poppy confounded him. She truly did.

She said things he did not expect, laughed when she should cry.

She spoke of murders and mothers and rules, so his head was a tornado trying to keep up.

And she resisted his every attempt to charm her, in the most irritating way.

As they’d walked toward her house, he’d realized that the entire evening he had been chasing, cajoling, almost begging for her attention, while she had been trying to shed him at every step, like a duck shaking off the waters of a lake. It was frustrating, infuriating.

It made him want to chase her even more. Which was the opposite of what he had hoped to accomplish!

Now they were approaching her home, the home he was not even supposed to enter, and every step was making him sizzle with vexation.

Why could he not enter? He was excellent with mothers!

Besides his own mother—who of course doted on him—he had always been popular with the matrons and matriarchs of the fae communities he visited.

Surely Poppy’s mother would be just as easily charmed.

But no, Poppy was determined against him. As they approached her brightly lit porch—which from the ground Rai could see was choked with neatly arranged pots of succulents and cacti—she turned to him and asked him for his bags.

He clutched them tighter. “They are too heavy. I will carry them.”

She rolled her eyes in a way that made his stomach clench. “For Pete’s sake. Who do you think would have carried them all this way if you hadn’t shown up?”

“You do not want me to greet your mother?”

“It’s not that.” Poppy stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Rai, I…I like you. And I’m super grateful that you helped me at the store and walked me home. But my mom is… Well, she’s fragile. I think she would like you, too, but if you meet her at a bad time, it’s just not going to go well.”

“Fragile? Like glass?”

“Kind of. But not literally.” She smiled, somewhat sadly. “I can see you picturing her breaking into actual pieces. That’s not what I mean.”

That had indeed been what Rai was picturing; thunder rumbled in his chest, but he quelled it.

“I am able to not break things,” he said, thinking of all the things he had resisted breaking at the shop.

He could have done so much delightful damage, and he had barely done any!

Convincing the device that misted the vegetables with water to spray the man who had been furtively ogling Poppy’s lovely breasts did not count. “And people. ”

“I know. Rai, this isn’t about you. You’re good. It’s about what my mom needs. Do you understand?”

He didn’t, but he nodded anyway.

She bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at the house. “Look, just give me the bags. I’ll bring them in and talk to my mom, and… Are you in a hurry? It’s late.”

“There is no hurry.” Except there was. He needed to burn through whatever this was before the desert burned through him.

She smiled. “If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll be back out in just a bit. Okay?”

Rai hated waiting. But perhaps that would be what he needed to wash this ridiculous desire to spend time with Poppy from his mind for good. He handed over the bags and sat upon the concrete porch steps to await her return.

The sky remained clear above; the storm he had ridden into town was still visible far to the northeast, but it was too far for him to reach now.

Winged creatures were wheeling overhead—bats, most likely, or perhaps owls—and from not far away came the wail of a locomotive, the sound of vehicles rushing by on the highway despite the late hour.

It felt entirely alien, cacophonous and irritating, like the buzzing of swarms of bees.

How did Poppy endure it, the constant noise?

Or were her ears not sensitive enough to notice?

She was taking too long.

He rolled to his feet and started to pace.

Poppy’s yard was lined with gravel, a few hardy desert plants spotted around here and there.

They were plump now, from the constant rain; he could sense the water nestled inside them, stored for the arid days ahead.

He’d heard that water fae who stayed in places like these would sometimes hide inside cacti, hibernating in the safety of their water-stuffed confines to last through the hot, dry summers until the rains came again.

It sounded like death to him, remaining in stasis for months just to survive.

Surviving was not living. He would go mad if that were his fate.

His gaze went to the vehicle parked by the side of the house, half-lit by the light angling out from the porch.

He had forgotten to ask Poppy about it, and he wandered over to it now.

It was small and red, the surface of its roof peeling away in places.

There were scrapes here and there around the edges, and as he walked around it, he noticed places where the red pieces had been bandaged with shiny steel-gray ribbons.

Curious! He was leaning in to investigate the bandages further when he heard the door of the house open and close.

The side of the house blocked his view, but he could hear footsteps on the porch.

“Rai?” came Poppy’s voice, hushed, then a muttered curse. “I should have known he wouldn’t want to wait.” She came into view as she approached the stairs .

“I am here,” Rai said, annoyed. “I said I would await your pleasure.”

She was silent for a moment, then laughed awkwardly.

“Oh, there you are. I couldn’t see you in the dark.

” She descended the stairs and came around to join him.

She was holding something in her hands; as she drew closer, he could see the gleam of a sharp knife and a dish holding the two peaches she had purchased.

“Ah,” he said softly. “It is time for the murder.”

“Just a snack.” She looked at her vehicle. “You’re judging me for the duct tape, aren’t you?”

“I am no judge,” he replied. “Is your mother well?”

“She’s all right,” Poppy said with some hesitation. “Not accepting-visitors all right but at least watching-Netflix all right. I told her I was coming out to water the plants and sit for a bit.”

Rai smirked. “So you are a liar.”

“Not if we sit. I’ll water the plants before I go back in.” Poppy set the plate on the vehicle and hoisted herself up to sit beside it. “Come on up. One more dent isn’t going to matter.”

He chose to stand instead, so that he could move about. “This is your vehicle.”

She sighed and slapped a dispirited hand against the red surface. “For what it’s worth, yeah.”

“Why do you not use it?”

“I would,” she said. “But it won’t start.

Pretty sure it’s the battery.” She took one of the peaches and set the knife to it, slicing through the skin.

Rai watched her cut, momentarily fascinated.

He had thought the knife was for protection, that she had finally realized he was untrustworthy.

“Which is not a big deal in the grand scheme of things,” she continued, “but if you hadn’t noticed, I’m… not exactly swimming in cash.”

He thought of the gold coins he’d squirreled away over the years. He did have quite a lot of them, but he could not picture swimming in them. “Of course not.”

“I’ll get it fixed,” Poppy said, determination on her face.

“The transcript market’s been slow, but it usually picks up when colleges start again, and then I’ll be able to spring for Triple A without starving for a week.

Honestly, it probably just needs a jump.

The battery’s only a few years old; I must have left a light on or something.

” As she spoke, she pried the pit out of the peach and set it and the halves on the plate, then began to slice neat half-moons of fruit.

“Why do you not simply bite it? ”

“The battery?” Poppy blinked at him, then looked at the plate. “Oh, the peach. I don’t know. This is just…how I eat them? Less messy, maybe.” She gave him a shy glance. “I don’t have to cut yours.”

“My what?”

“Your peach,” Poppy said slowly, as if he were an idiot. Which was fair, because he was gaping like one. “Be pretty rude of me, eating in front of you and not offering you any.” She took the unsliced fruit and held it out.

Rai stared at her extended hand. He did enjoy fruit, on occasion, but he didn’t need to eat now that he was an adult; he drew his sustenance from the storms, or from the bodies of water where he took his rest. Humans could not do so, and Poppy had been quite concerned the other day about the destruction of her food, and again today about the amount she would be able to purchase.

Why would she offer him part of her precious stores?

“I washed it,” Poppy said when he did not accept it immediately.