The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) (12 page)

“I can’t help it. Sprites have to eat constantly.”
The Discovery Channel also taught me monkeys never stop searching
for food either.

My stomach had stopped growling hours earlier, as
though realizing it was pointless since no food was forthcoming.
The night before, Sprig had eaten everything in our fridge, which
wasn’t much.

“Okay.” I grabbed some clothes out of the dresser.
“But only to get something to eat and come right back.”

“Oh, can we go to Izel’s?” He bobbed up and down on
his feet.

“No.” I slipped on my flip-flops, tying my hair back
into a ponytail, and scribbling a note for Ryker in case he woke.
“We’re only grabbing something at the corner store and coming
back.”

“The churro cart is only a couple of blocks
away.”

“Okay, churros, shop, back here.” I grabbed a
reusable shopping bag and the keys to the room. Sprig hopped on my
shoulder. No point asking him to stay behind. He wouldn’t. And
besides actual sit-down restaurants like Izel’s, no one seemed to
care I had a monkey on my shoulder.

I checked the door twice to make sure it was locked.
My stomach knotted the farther my feet took me away from the
sleeping man. Leaving him defenseless didn’t sit right with me. We
had each other’s backs, and I felt like I was leaving his
exposed.

The sun beat down on me as I rushed to the store.
Halfway there I noticed people stringing Christmas lights and
decorations along the main drag. You could feel an excitement in
the air and watch children running around wearing layers of clothes
in vibrant reds, pinks, teals, yellows, and oranges, a vast rainbow
of colors and patterns with headdresses and hats.

“
¿Qué está pasando?”
What’s going on? I asked
the shopkeeper as I pointed to the street.

“Celebration,” he replied in Spanish. “There is going
to be a huge parade and party tonight. The whole town comes out.
It’s a commemoration of an Inca leader, his supposed day of
death.”

Good reason as any.

“You must join in.” He placed my groceries in my bag.
I couldn’t wait to get access to the money Daniel left me. These
people would be getting what I owed them plus a whole lot more.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” I smiled.

“You won’t be able to avoid it.” He laughed. “Takes
over the town.”

I glamoured him into adding the cost to the growing
bill, thanked him, and headed out.

“Churros!” Sprig sang into my ear.

“Oh, cork it.” I stuffed a banana chip into his
mouth.

He batted at it and spit it out. “Ugh, yuck.
Banana.”

A banana-hating monkey? Go figure.

I bit into my piece. “It’s sweet.”

He watched me curiously, then grabbed the end of
mine, breaking it off. His tongue licked at it with hesitation.
“It’s okay. Better than the real fruit. But only give me one of
these if I am close to death and there is nothing else around.”

“So in an hour.”

By the time we got the churros, the streets were
filling with people. The late afternoon had turned into evening. A
flyer hanging from a pole told me the parade started at six and the
fireworks at ten. I hurried back to our room. Panting, I unlocked
the door and stepped in.

The bed was empty.

“Ryker?”

No answer.

“Ryker!”

“
Bhean
, listen.” Sprig tapped at his ear,
settling himself on top the TV.

Trying to hear past the beating of my heart, I
finally took in the sound of the shower.
Jeez, Zoey, overreact
much?

The water shut off and eventually Ryker came out of
the bathroom, steam trailing after him, only a towel around his
waist. The memory of him taking my hand last night needled at me. I
looked away, putting the groceries on the table.

“You’re back.” He walked over to the dresser.

“I only stepped out for a moment. Sprig was going to
die
if I didn’t get him food.”

Ryker snorted and glanced over at Sprig stuffing
churros into his mouth.

“True story,” Sprig garbled out.

“Yeah, freaked me out when I first woke up, but the
note plastered to my forehead kind of let me know you hadn’t been
kidnapped.”

Actually, it said:
Ryker, haven’t been kidnapped
except by a monkey and his stomach. Be back soon.

“How are you feeling?” I pointed to his calf. The
wound had finally closed, but it looked puffy and raised.

“Fine.” He frowned. No doubt he’d noticed he was
slower to heal. “What I really need is a drink.” He pulled a black
T-shirt over his head.

A moment of neither of us speaking suddenly felt
awkward and heavy
. Why am I nervous around him now? Why can I
only think about what’s under his towel?

“Uh. Th-there’s a parade tonight, and I guess it’s a
big deal.” I waved to the windows. “Fireworks and a big party in
the streets. Whole town is involved.”
Shut up, Zoey
. “The
owner at the market said we couldn’t avoid it.”
Please,
shut up
. “Think the parade is at six and the fireworks are
at ten or something.” And then the worst thing possible happened. A
nervous giggle broke from my lips. I usually had a deep laugh. I
didn’t giggle.

Kill. Me. Now
.

Ryker tilted his head, examining me. Even Sprig
stopped eating and stared at me.

“Are you all right,
Bhean
?” Sprig’s forehead
folded in lines. “You look flustered.”

Yeah.
“No.” I pinched the space between my
eyes, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn’t look up as another beat of
silence pounded in my ears.

“Sounds fun,” Ryker finally said, drawing my
attention over to him. He stepped into a pair of clean boxer
briefs, his towel still wrapped around his waist. “Want to start
early? Get a drink down the street?”

Drink. Yes. Good idea.

“Uh... yeah.” I nodded. “Where are you going?”

“Tulio’s.”

“The bar we crashed into? The one where he called the
cops on us?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already been back there. Tulio
will leave us alone, I promise.”

Ahh. That’s where he came back from the other night,
stumbling drunk. Poor Tulio got glamoured.

“Okay, but I’ll meet you there. I want to do
something first.”

Ryker’s brows lowered as he tugged on his last pair
of green cargo pants. The other ones were in the trash. Ryker
slipped on his boots and snagged a churro out of Sprig’s hand,
biting down on it. Sprig gaped at his empty hand like he lost his
best friend. “You know where to find me.” Ryker grabbed a set of
keys and left.

“He took my churro...” Sprig’s bottom lip quivered as
he stared at his empty hand.

“Uh-oh. Will I have to break out the banana chips
soon?”

Sprig sniffed. “Maybe.”

I shook my head and walked to the bathroom, holding a
box I purchased at the store. When I saw it on the shelf I knew
what I had to do. Even if it only fooled people for a moment, it
would be worth it. I set the package on the counter. A girl with
plum hair stared back at me from the carton. Arlo was the one who
pointed it out. Right away people would know I wasn’t Amara, only
cementing the gossip about Ryker being magic-less and traveling
with a brunette human.

Thirty minutes later, my hair was a rich shade of
purple. I turned my head back and forth, admiring my new look. My
figure was curvier and shorter than Amara’s lean modelesque one,
but people would notice my shape a lot less than the hair.

Sprig hopped into the room. “Your hair looks like an
eggplant.”

“I know.” The colored locks fell around, framing my
face. I actually liked it. A lot. I felt even more like a badass.
Sexy badass.

“It actually looks good on you.” Sprig leaped on the
sink.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Making me crave eggplant lasagna. Or berry pie.”

“How about honey-dipped mango chips and a Spanish
soap opera?”

Sprig’s eyes widened in excitement, then tempered.
“You’re leaving me behind again, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Sprig tilted his head and shrugged. “For honey mango
chips I will agree.” He sighed heavily. He straightened up, eyes
growing wide again. “Oh, Senorita Rosa... I wonder if she will find
out whose baby she’s carrying.” He bounded off the counter and ran
to the TV, stabbing at the buttons.

I clicked it on for him. Instead of the soap opera, I
found a reality show, which was as good. He climbed on the bed, Pam
in hand, and settled onto a pillow. I grabbed a honey bear full of
sweet liquid, grasped the stash of mango chips I bought at the
store, and handed it to him. He was already in his happy place by
the time I finished dressing.

Uncomfortably, I tugged at my skirt.
Was it this
short when I got it?
It was an impulse buy. One I was
regretting. My nerves rattled around, clenching at my chest. Why
was I edgy? It was simply a drink. We’d shared plenty of them
before. And it was only a skirt.
My shorts and cargo pants are
dirty. This is only thing I have clean
, I rationalized.
Not
like I’m dressing for a date or anything.
But with my violet
hair, cute A-line, cotton, flared skirt, and tight tank, I felt as
if I were wearing a neon sign, like I was
trying
to impress
Ryker. Before I overthought anything and changed my outfit, I
proceeded to the door.

“We’ll be back later.” I rubbed Sprig’s head on the
way out. He grunted and shoved another chip in his mouth as I
closed the door.

My nerves doubled the closer I got to the bar.
Participants in the parade were starting to gather at the end of
the lane. Music swayed down to me as the dancers practiced their
routines. Excitement ran like a current through the people. Kids
ran around squealing with delight, waiting for the festivities to
begin.

It only intensified my knotting gut. “Relax, Zoey.
Simply a drink. No big deal,” I muttered to myself. What would he
think of my hair? Would he think I wore the skirt for him? Did
I?

Holy shit! I need a drink
.

Inhaling a huge slug of air, I took a step into the
bar.

It was packed. Tourists and locals mixed with each
other, cheering and singing to the jukebox tunes. People were ready
to let loose and have a good time. The excitement and happiness in
the air was tangible. I could feel it move across my skin. The
parade moved past the bar, and everyone cheered in anticipation of
the more “adult” festivities later.

Ryker was easy to spot sitting at the bar. Even with
all the other tourists, he stood out. Girls stood behind him in a
group, giggling and trying to catch his notice. If he wanted to go
invisible, he pretty much could, but he obviously didn’t care
tonight.

I nibbled at my lip as I made my way over to him.
Sensing my approach, he swiveled around in his chair. His mouth
dropped open and his eyes grew wide.

“Hey.” I pushed through the throng of girls and
wiggled in next to him. Several of the girls said something in
German and frowned in my direction.

“What the hell did you do?”

My hand grabbed at the ends of my hair. “What? You
don’t like it?”

He adjusted in his seat, really taking me in. “I
didn’t say that.”

“Arlo was right. With my brown hair no fae would ever
take me for Amara.”

“Why would you want to be mistaken for Amara?”

I turned to the bar, searching for the man who stood
between me and the alcohol.

Ryker stood up, motioning me to sit. He leaned over,
mumbling something in the man’s ear next to him. The man got up and
walked away. Ryker sat in his vacated chair.

“That was wrong.” I scowled.

“Out of all the things we’ve both done, that is what
you think is wrong?”

I smiled and plopped on the barstool. “No. Not
really.”

“What I thought.” His eyes grazed over me again. “You
didn’t answer my question.”

He motioned to the bartender. I recognized him as the
man who ran out of the bar the day we arrived, the owner, Tulio. He
reacted instantly to Ryker’s summons.

“Beer?” Ryker asked.

I nodded.

Ryker held up two fingers and motioned to his
bottle.

I looked forward, not wanting to face him. “I’m a
liability. They hear the rumors, but until they see me they
probably doubt the truth of them.” I picked at a napkin on the bar.
“If more people learn you don’t have your powers, they will come
for the stone. In droves. If for one moment they see me and think
I’m Amara and hesitate, it’s worth it.”

Ryker grabbed my arm, turning my chair to him. He
reached out, twirling my hair between his fingers. “You did this to
protect me?”

“Yeah.”

Ryker’s mouth opened and closed, his fingers trailed
through my hair, his gaze growing so intense I stopped
breathing.

Tulio set the beers down, the glass bottles clanking.
Ryker and I jerked back, turning our attention to the objects in
front of us. He reached for his beer and I did the same.