Charming (Exiled Book 3) (6 page)

He could see that Ana was thinking that over.

She reasoned that Rosie
had
gone to some trouble to remove her from possible harm. “She knows?”

He nodded. “Intimately. She lived with my family for a time and was planning to marry my oldest brother.”

Ana slowly stood up straighter and looked at the hand Charming held out to her. When she declined to take his hand, he dropped it to his side and waited. He knew that frightened humans had to be treated like wild animals. Move slowly. Be calm and patient.

Looking around she saw that everyone had resumed what they’d been doing before the incident. Drinking. Eating. Talking. Laughing.

She took a deep breath, reclaimed her seat at the bar, and picked up the spoon. Being frightened out of years of her life didn’t mean she wasn’t still hungry. The stew was still warm and tasted heavenly. So heavenly that her eyes closed in overt appreciation of culinary ecstasy.

When she plunged the spoon into the bowl for another bite, she said, “Talk.”

And he did. He told her how the humans of his world of origin had created his kind as an experiment and then, realizing the potential danger, decided to end the research by killing them off. He told her about Kellareal, mentioned that he was a good friend of Rosie’s, and explained how he’d saved them and helped them build a settlement in the hills above the city.

As she ate he continued the story of how they had, at Rosie’s suggestion, formed an alliance with the human population of Farsuitwail to obliterate the mutual threat of the Rautt and were still in the process of restoring life as it had been prior to that world’s own hybrid experiment gone bad.

By the time Charming was finished narrating the background of Exiled and how they came to live in Farsuitwail, Ana was finished with her stew and slathering butter on bread.

He waited for some reaction from her. Finally, she said, “This is good,” and held the bread out toward him. “Want some?”

Charming smiled. “I ate already, but thank you.”

She nodded. “So what all can you do? That’s different.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “No card tricks.” She rolled her eyes. “But in general, hybrids are stronger, faster. Smarter.”

She rolled her eyes again. “All men think they’re smarter.” He laughed. “You do have bigger teeth and louder voices.”

“Yeah. That, too.” With a wicked glint in his eye he added, “And you should probably add sexier to that list.”

She thought she might have to agree with that last part. “Don’t forget lots of humility.”

He smiled and took a swig of ale without looking away.

“And hybrids don’t get mad and rip people’s heads off?”

Charming made a conscious decision to lie. Of course Exiled
had
ripped heads off, but only in battle. Not in civilian life. Truthfully, Exiled loved peace and wanted nothing more than to preserve it. They’d had enough of war. Each and every one who’d sacrificed by serving or losing loved ones treasured the peace beyond all else.

”No.” He immediately felt guilty and decided to amend his answer so that it was mostly true. “We don’t just get mad and rip people’s heads off. We think it through first.” He laughed, hoping that she’d believe he was joking and let it go at that.

Ana studied him while she continued eating bread. After a few minutes, she said, “You said Rosie was going to marry your brother?”

“Yeah. I did say that.” He looked away.

“What happened?”

“He died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Charming shrugged. Seeing that she’d finished off every bite of stew and bread, a portion fit for an adult male hybrid, he said, “You want more?”

She looked at her bowl and seemed to be thinking about it. “I don’t want more stew. Do they have cookies here?”

“Cookies?” Charming looked around the bar. “I honestly don’t know.” He motioned to Scar, who came over at the next opportunity. “Do you have cookies?”

“Listen, Leader. Bloom didn’t come in tonight and I’ve got a full house. I don’t have time for jokes.”

Charming turned back to Ana. “I guess that means no.”

She nodded in agreement. “That was my take, too. I don’t want anything else, but I’ll tell you right now I think it’s a mistake not having cookies on hand.”

Charming seemed amused. “I’m betting that’s the first time anybody’s asked Scar for cookies. So I can see why it would go to the bottom of his priority list.”

“That’s probably just because he didn’t think of it.”

As a small group of hybrids walked by, Ana stopped them. “Say, would you mind participating in a market survey?” They looked at Charming, who shrugged. “You’ve never been asked to answer survey questions before?” They all shook their heads. “Well, it’s your lucky day. This is a new experience for you then. So here’s the question. Do you think it would be a good idea for this place to offer cookies?”

The hybrids looked at each other for a few seconds before one of them said, “I like a cookie now and then.” He smiled. “Okay, truthfully, I’ve never turned down a cookie.” The others nodded and murmured agreement. “I like the kind that have raisins and I like the kind that have nuts and I like the kind that have chunks of candy.” He smiled. “You have some cookies?” He looked over the top of Ana’s head with a hopeful expression.

“No,” she said. “I’m really sorry to say that I don’t have some to offer today, but I know the owner. I’ll pass on your feedback and maybe next time there’ll be cookies. Be sure to ask.” She smiled.

When the hybrids moved away grumbling because there were no cookies, Charming said, “You like to start trouble, don’t you?”

“What do you mean? The big scary guy deserves to know if he’s missing out on a potentially hot selling item! Right?”

Charming smiled. “Those people were perfectly content. Now they’re dissatisfied because they don’t have cookies. For that matter, you’ve got me thinking about raisins and nuts and chunks of candy happily embedded in warm gooey cookie.”

“Happily embedded in warm gooey cookie? You made cookie poetry.”

He chuckled. “It’s as you say. Who doesn’t like cookies? Come on. I know a place where we can get some. It’s a little bit of a walk, but it’s a nice night.”

They had just reached the sidewalk when Charming was stopped by police.

“Sorry, sir. We have a matter that needs your attention.”

Charming let out a deep breath and turned to Ana. “Guess it’ll have to wait. You know how to get back to the apartment?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Don’t be afraid. No one will bother you.”

Charming hadn’t returned when Ana went to bed and was gone when she woke the next morning, but there was a note with instructions on how to reach him and a sack of cookies that made her smile. She wasn’t used to small kindnesses or consideration, so small things meant a lot and made her think that perhaps she’d not only escaped an ugly death, but landed on her feet. Maybe in a place that was better than she’d ever dared to imagine. Street kids don’t get many breaks in life and no one was more aware of that fact of life.

CHAPTER FOUR

Over the next couple of weeks Charming and Ana communicated mostly by leaving notes. She spent her days hanging out in the park watching people and was amazed at what could be learned just by observation. Though neither of them ever made plans to meet for dinner, Ana fell into the routine of showing up at A Far Scar around eight o’clock. Most nights Charming would slide onto the barstool next to her, steal something from her plate, order what she was having, and ask about her day.

She felt like there was never anything worthwhile to report. When she asked about his days, he was evasive and said he’d much rather hear about a dog fight, or a spilled ice cream cone, or lovers who were so into each other they forgot to watch where they were going and tumbled into the fountain reservoir.

One morning, instead of rising whenever she felt like it, Charming banged on her door. “Get up. Get dressed. And come out so we can talk,” he shouted.

She searched her memory for something she might have done to endanger the serenity of her days and came up empty, but she pulled herself out of bed, stepped into clothes, and threw water in her face.

While she was doing that, he started banging on the bathroom door. “Come on. I don’t have all day!”

She stared at the door for a minute before stomping down the hall. He was waiting in the middle of the kitchen.

“God,” she said. “Keep your pants on! What’s the freaking matter?”’

“Don’t call me god. That’s weird even for you.” He motioned to a chair at the dinette. “Sit down.”

He set a cup of tea and a scone in front of her along with butter, jam, and honey.

“It’s time we find something useful for you to do.” He sat across from her and took a swig of tea from a mug.

“Okaaay,” she said.

She’d skipped past the suburban experience of being a petulant adolescent testing the emotional boundaries of parents who cared enough to set rules, but she’d seen enough TV to mimic the scenario.

“What can you do?” he asked.

His yellow-green eyes seemed intent on looking straight into her mind, as if he could extract information that was not forthcoming with extra sensory perception.

Ana was trying to decide how to answer the question.

What could she do?

She could carry messages and keep quiet about what she saw, whatever that was. She had instincts good enough to detect potentially dangerous situations on the street and either avoid or diffuse. Usually.

She could sleep with one eye open, figuratively of course. When survival depended on it, she could give a decent blowjob or a well-timed knee to the crotch. She had a vicelike grip that had been useful for crushing balls on more than one occasion. But after mentally reviewing her skill set, she didn’t come up with anything she thought Charming would care to hear about.

“Nothing,” was what she finally chose for an answer.

“Nothing,” he repeated.

She nodded.

“That’s impossible. There’s no such thing as an adult person who doesn’t know how to do something. What were you doing when Rosie brought you here?”

“Running from people who wanted to torture and kill me.”

After staring for a few seconds, he said, “Well, that’s a start,” slowly and painstakingly. “So you know how to run. What else?” She shrugged. “Do you know how to cook?”

She barked out a laugh. “Cook?” She shook her head vigorously. “Nooooo. I do not know how to cook.”

“Have you ever had a job?”

“Not the traditional kind.”

“What does that mean? Traditional.”

“Legal.”

“Well, what kind of illegal job did you have?” He was beginning to sound exasperated. Her level of discomfort was also escalating, keeping pace in direct proportion with his rising impatience.

She stood up. “None of your business.”

He stood up. “None of my business? Everything you do is my business. Unless you decide to contribute, every bite of food you eat is my food. Every sip of tea you take is my tea. Every breath you take while you sleep is on
my
pillow on
my
bed in
my
home because of
my
generosity is my air.”

Ana felt a flush begin at her neck and creep upward. She didn’t have to look in a mirror to know she was beet red. She wished she could grab that beautiful tawny-colored hair that usually begged to be touched and yank on both sides of his head at once.

Everything he said was true and she couldn’t argue with it. She also couldn’t manufacture skills she didn’t have.

Ducking her head in embarrassment, she said, “I’ll get my stuff.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he challenged taking a step forward.