Page 33 of A Song in the Night

“Haven’t had too many customers these last few weeks,” he admits as he presses keys on the register. “It’s nice to see someone with an appreciation for plant life. I’ve surrounded myself with them my entire life.”

As he speaks, his expression is so open, so polite. It’s impossible to tell if he knows who I am. Maybe he cloisters himself in this shop, where word of banished princesses and royal scandals can’t reach.

“I’m Charlie,” I say finally, cautiously returning his smile. Perhaps he’s simply being kind. Since leaving the mansion, I’ve gotten used to people being the complete opposite, so I guess this is throwing me off.

I hand over the money I’d been planning to use for food today, hoping there’s something left in the fridge at the office I can have instead.

“Would you like a bag or a box?”

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I can carry it.”

The vampire nods, gently pushing it across the counter toward me. “Enjoy, Charlie. I hope to see you again.”

I pick the pot up and hold it against my chest, thanking the man before leaving the store.

Back on the sidewalk, I decide to keep walking, since I’m not ready to be back in that shrinking office. Two or three blocks later, I pass the mouth of an alley and glance toward it automatically, wary of an attack from its shadowed depths. I clutch the blood lily closer as if I’m worried I’ll have to use it as a weapon.Not much of a weapon,the monster cajoles, and I roll my eyes. She’s been more bitchy than usual because she’s hungry again.

I have to remind myself that Henry isn’t waiting in the darkness, but the alley isn’t empty—my attention lingers on a human holding a piece of cardboard with a dollar amount written on it. The price of biting her, I realize a beat later. My footsteps slow.

“Why aren’t you feeding?” an all-too familiar voice asks from behind.

I let out a yelp. As I spin to face Noah, heat is already spreading through my cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just fed,” I tell him.

His gaze flicks down to the flowerpot I’m clutching. His hair lifts in a cold breeze. “Sylvia isn’t going to like that. She says plants attract bugs.”

My grip on the pot tightens, and I hold it against me now as if I’m protecting a child. “Those are easy to get rid of,” I protest. “If you just control the soil moisture or water the plants from the bottom, it isn’t an issue. Or you can replace the top inch of soil with a layer of sand—”

“I didn’t ask for a lesson in botany. Shall we?”

Anger surges through me, quicker and hotter than a burst of lava. I stay where I am, glaring at Noah. My eyes are stinging, and I know that if I don’t hold onto the fury, he’ll see me cry. Noah Forrest has enough derogatory nicknames and I refuse to give him fodder for one more. “You know, I didn’t ask you to buy me at that auction,” I snap. “I’m trying to pull my weight at the office. I keep my mouth shut when you treat me like shit. The least you could do is try and be less of an asshole.”

He studies me, the corners of his mouth tight, as if he’s holding back a smile. Before I can lose my temper, he says, “I’ll take that under consideration, baby vampire.”

We walk the rest of the way to the office together, neither of us saying a word.

Sylvia is waiting for us when we walk inside. “Did you tell her?”

“What’s going on?” I ask, glancing between them as I set the blood lily on the cabinet closest to the window.

Her eyes narrow on the plant, but she says nothing about it. “Noah?”

“Not yet,” he says, dropping into his chair and kicking his feet onto his desk, evidently not caring about footprints on his files. His eyes land on me, and he smirks. “We’re going to be roommates.”

“What?” I squeak, though I know in an instant why they’ve reached this decision. Yesterday night, they’d finally realized that I’ve been sleeping here. I had no choice but to tell the vampires about the attack at Ada’s. At the time, Noah said they would come up with a more comfortable arrangement—another seemingly random act of kindness on his part—but I sure as hell wasn’t prepared for this.

My response just prompts a shrug from Noah. “Normally, you’d stay with Sylvia, but—”

“But I like my privacy,” she cuts in, leveling a glare at him. “Are we done here?”

He flaps his hand. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll call you if we run into trouble.”

“Hold on,” I interject. “Do you guys seriously think I’m going to stay at Noah’s?”

Sylvia doesn’t bother responding. She strides to the door and takes her coat off the hook. “That plant better not be for the office. They attract bugs,” she remarks without turning.

Told you, Noah mouths. To his partner he says, “Where are you off to?”

“Got a text from Kyndra,” she says, shrugging on her coat. “She’s got a Jane Doe on her table.”

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