Easy Bake Coven (20 page)

A date with Cheney
. This was either a very good or a very bad idea. I unpacked my suitcase, putting the clothes in drawers so they wouldn’t wrinkle any further, while I thought.

I had no idea where he’d take me. I couldn’t imagine Cheney in a suit, at a club, or really in any public place. I stuck my head out the bedroom door. “Cheney?” I said at a conversational volume, not wanting alarm him.

He appeared around the corner of the kitchen, pulling a cell phone from his ear, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Sorry. Where exactly are we going?”

He only smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen. He wasn’t going to tell me.
Jerk.
I eyed the clothes still strewn across my bed. Somewhere in the mess, there was the perfect outfit. I just had to find it. I took the cream Cheney gave me and absentmindedly smeared it on every red mark on my legs, arms, and body that I could reach as I inspected my choices.

Finally I pulled out a pair of snug black pants and a mauve silk and chiffon strapless top with a sweetheart neckline and a ribbon accenting the waist. The outfit was simple and easy to move in yet alluring. In my bathroom, I was amazed to find that every single mark I’d put the cream on was healed. I finished my hair and makeup.

Cheney was still on the phone when I entered the living room, but he’d changed into a pair of dark jeans and a crisp white button up shirt that complimented his muscular arms and chest. He looked back at me and the phone disappeared from his hand. “You look lovely.” He produced a bouquet of sunflowers.

“My favorite,” I said. Cheney smiled and I had a sinking feeling. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Tonight we aren’t talking about what I know about you. Let’s call it a lucky guess.”

I smiled. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

I handed him the jar of cream he’d given me. “I can’t reach all the spots on my back. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

I turned my back to him, lifting my hair. The cold cream and Cheney’s rough fingers made contact with my flesh, and I tried not to hold my breath.

“Where are we going tonight?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“Um . . . ” His thumb ran down my spine, making me bite my lip. “What was your question again?”

“Tonight, where are we going?”

He stepped back. “Well, officially we’re in hiding and it would be irresponsible to leave.”

“Oh.” I struggled to keep disappointment from my tone.

“But I think I can make it work. I need a little more time, however.”

“So you want me to leave?”

“I will come to your door and pick you up.” His eyes twinkled with excitement.

I didn’t want to disappoint him with my doubts, so I forced a smile and went back to my room. I grabbed my headphones and lay on my bed, wishing Cheney hadn’t confiscated my cell phone. I really wanted to talk to friends. I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away.

Fingers ran down my cheek in a slow caress. I blinked my eyes open.

“Did I fall asleep?”

He smiled and nodded. The expression on his face stole my breath. Such naked, undisguised love and tenderness shone in his eyes. It made me feel radiant. I traced his cheek line with my hand, mimicking his touch. What happened between the two of us? Why would I ever have left?

He sighed. “Are you ready?” I flashed my most dazzling smile and nodded. He helped me up and tugged me into his arms. We appeared in the same forest where the day’s exercises had taken place, only it didn’t look same. White lights sparkled from every tree branch as if Chaney had pulled stars from the sky just for me. It took me a moment to realize it, but they were moving, twinkling, and dancing across the branches.

“Is this magic?” I breathed, amazed at the amount of power it would take.

Cheney laughed. The musical sound made the lights move faster. “No.”

I looked at the small, white table with a small lantern in the center. He hadn’t used candles had he? He’d burn the place down.

Cheney put his hand on the small of my back and leaned in. My head tilted toward him and his breath tickled my ear. “Don’t look so worried.” Those unimaginably soft lips, contrasting with the rough stubble, brushed just behind my jaw and I thought I might melt. His hand drifted around me and pulled me tighter to him. “Wood nymphs.”

“Mmm.” I had no idea what he was talking about and didn’t particularly care at the moment. I leaned against him and he continued his trail down my neck.

“Do you know what that is?” he asked between soft, fluttering kisses.

When he paused, I remembered he’d asked me something. “What?

Cheney chuckled and released me from his embrace. “The lights are wood nymphs.”

I still wasn’t sure what those were, but I took in the beauty surrounding me. “Are they always here?”

“No, they’re doing me a favor.”

“Are they elves?”

He shook his head. “Fae. Part of our kingdom.”

I let that sink in as he pulled out a chair for me. “But they had a choice to come, right? You didn’t make them?”

He smiled and sat down across from me. “No one makes wood nymphs do anything they don’t want to do. They’re romantics, though. It wasn’t a hard sell.” He removed the silver warming dishes from over our plates. Before me sat a thick steak, grilled asparagus with a butter sauce, and new potatoes. The wafting aromas made my mouth water. “So how do we do this? I haven’t dated in,” he raised his eyebrows, “a while.”

I smiled back. “You’re doing fine. Everything looks perfect.” I picked up my knife and cut a small piece off the steak. Pink juice seeped from it, and my stomach turned. I wasn’t a vegetarian, but I couldn’t handle meat rare. It disgusted me. “Tell me about yourself.” I discretely removed the piece of steak from my fork and moved on to the asparagus.

He shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Well, how old are you? How long do elves live?”

His mouth twisted in amusement. “Hoping I’ll make you a widow?”

I gave a half shrug. “At least we’d stop fighting.” We both laughed, and relief that he got my humor settled in my core.

 “Elves live a very long time. Too long for you to conceive the duration.”

“Are you immortal?”

“No, I can die. However, we’re the closest living thing to it.”

“But you only had one sibling?”

“Yes. There are very few elf children.”

“What about your mom? You have spoken of your father, but never your mother.”

“She died during childbirth with my sister. She had a weak constitution.”

“I’m sorry.” I squeezed his hand and he watched me like I was a fascinating creature he had never seen. “Did you know my mother?”

He took a bite of his bloody steak, and I struggled not to retch or look away. “She died before I met you.”

“And she was human?”

“Yes.”

“But she lived with elves?”

He shook his head. “No, humans cannot live with elves. After she died, your father made arrangements for you.”

“So before that my father lived with the human world?”

“Elves do not live in the human world,” he said carefully.

My eyebrows pulled together. If humans couldn’t live with elves and elves couldn’t live with humans, how was I here? Before I could ask any more questions, he cut me off.

“By the time I met you, you were an adult. You didn’t have a relationship with your father, and your mother had been dead for decades.”

“So when you found my grandma—er, Edith—was that because of the changeling thing?”

“Not exactly. You were so disconnected from your elf family that I thought maybe you would have more of a connection with your human relations and it would calm your wild streak.”

 “Is that why you didn’t tell Sy I was alive? Because I wasn’t close to him?” I took my last bit of potatoes and laid my fork down.

Cheney sighed. “Is there something wrong with your steak?”

I looked down guiltily at the untouched slab of meat. “I’m not very hungry.”

He frowned like he wanted to argue, but he pressed his lips together instead and looked down.

I let the other questions bubbling inside of me fall dormant. I wasn’t being a very fun date, questioning him about the past, but I didn’t know what else to talk about. What did I have in common with a thousand-year-old, or whatever, elf? Everything we had in common seemed to be rooted in the past. A trickle of jealousy streamed through me at the thought of how much he must have loved her to be here with me now.

“Did I lose you?” Cheney’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I looked up, surprised by the sadness in his voice. “I’m still here.”

 “Are you?”

Any sympathy I had washed away. He wasn’t talking about me. I swallowed my sigh. “I feel a headache coming on. Do you mind if we go back up to the house?”

He stared at me for several moments, then stood and offered his hand. Back in the living room, I escaped from his touch as quickly as I could. I was falling much too fast and hard for someone who was in love with a person I would never be.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other romantically,” I said, staring out the window with my back to him.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?”

“I’m not mad.” I just wasn’t the one he wanted.

“Was it the food?”

His statement was so absurd, I turned around. “What?”

“It was always your favorite. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“You think I’d be upset over something that petty? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, you’re upset about something. I’m doing the best I can. Damn it, do you think this is easy? Do you think I want to
have
to woo you again?
Everything
is not about you. I’m part of this relationship, too. You’ve never been able to remember that.”

Cheney’s eyes flashed and his features smoothed as his glamour slipped. I stepped back as he continued to talk with his hands.

“If I can move beyond all the mistakes
we
both
made in the past then so can you. If you don’t want to date anymore, that’s fine with me, but you’re still my wife and always will be,” Cheney’s voice grew louder, and the room filled with static.

“Maybe we just aren’t meant to be,” I said quietly.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You may not want to admit it, but memories or not you still want me.”

“I don’t think I do,” I told him flatly, holding back angry, sad tears.

Cheney became still—too still. His entire body was tense as he looked at me with wild eyes. At least when he was yelling I knew what he was thinking. This quiet stare down made the hair on my neck stand up. I forced myself not to look down as a feral anger burned in his eyes until there was nothing else left. He started to speak a couple times but stopped himself. Finally, he threw his hands up and disappeared.

My heart thudded in my chest, and my hands and legs shook as I went to my room. Curling myself into a fetal position underneath the covers, I still didn’t allow my tears to fall.

This was for the best.

You couldn’t start a relationship with so much baggage you needed a moving company to carry it.

My headphones were on the nightstand, waiting for me like an old friend. I wouldn’t allow myself to wallow in self-pity, so I changed my clothes and took my iPod with me. Once outside I began to run. It was dark out, with only the moon and stars providing the light, yet I could see fine. The realization that something else had changed in me against my will fueled my anger. All the sadness about Cheney not loving me evaporated. How dare he yell at me?

I pushed myself harder and faster. The thump of my feet striking against the ground was the only thing that soothed me. I went in and out of trees, low hanging braches slapping against me, but I didn’t care—I only ran faster. I wanted nothing more than to be free of the skin that bound me.

The forest ended and I continued to run at top speed, not knowing what I would find on the other side. It was exhilarating. Faster and harder, I propelled myself forward—away from the thoughts of Cheney, away from the desire to call my friends, away from the destiny I did not want. Out of nowhere, something collided with me, rolling me across the ground and knocking the wind from my lungs. Gasping for breath, I found that my shoulder and leg that took most of the impact burned. I struggled off the ground to face my attacker. My few days of training failed me, as I was completely unaware of my surroundings.