Page 32 of The Baker and the Wolf

I slump back in my chair. “She is terribly envious. Even of her children. She hated it when Papa spent time with us.”

“I do wonder how Gerard came to love and marry such a woman.” Rina sighs and rubs her forehead with two fingers.

“Undoubtedly she used magic on him,” Barbaro growls. “And when he got wise to her tricks and resisted, she removed him from the scene and wiped everyone’s inconvenient memories.” He looks at me. “You somehow managed to hold on to some special ones.”

I nod sadly. “So did my sisters.”

When Rina sits bolt upright in her chair, the fire brightens along with her. “I have an idea!” She gives Barbaro a hard look. “It will be dangerous, and we might need to change direction on the fly, but it’s worth a try.”

He nods. “You’re the boss lady.”

I’m almost certain my grandmére smiles before she can hide it.

“Do you think she knows that we know? About the statue, I mean?”

Barbaro escorts me through the city, again taking a roundabout route to the bakery, although this time there’s no ducking into doorways and alleys. The streets are busy, allowing us a kind of privacy amid the throng of busy citizens, and the statue can’t trail us in daylight hours.

“I think we need to assume the worst,” he says quietly, “as your grandmére frequently reminds me. Our plan allows for most contingencies, but there are always unknowns.”

I study his profile, the arch of his nose, the lush blackness of his lashes and brows. He is so handsome, so gifted, and yet an air of sadness permeates even his smiles. He is a prisoner with a dreadful past and a hopeless future.

I don’t know what to think or believe. The flood of revelations, the whiplash of emotions—I desperately need space to think.

But one question must be asked and answered: “Do you know of any way you can be free?”

“Free of being a shifter?” He shakes his head. “I was born this way. It is inherent, like my magic.”

“No, I mean, is there any way you can be legally freed from your life sentence?”

“I know of no other end than my death.” His voice is deep, heavy. “And not even a full pardon could remove the curse of being a beast.”

“If you inherited shifting magic from your mother, you should consider it a gift,” I point out. “You can do things ordinary people can’t do—not even mages like me. What matters is what we do with what we’re given. Will we use our gifts and our time for good or for evil?”

He guides me around a corner without touching me. “Most people don’t view my ‘gift’ that way.”

“Rina told me your surname is Ayad. Do you know your given name?”

After a pause, he says, “My mother called me Ben, short for Benoît.”

“I like that name.” So much that I can’t help smiling. “Do you know what it means? Blessed.”

When he looks at me, his expression is brighter. “I did not know. Thank you.”

“Do you prefer Benoît or Ben?”

“I like both when you say them.”

Distracted by the warmth in his voice, I trip over a crack in the walkway. Only then do I realize we are entering the park. I slip a glance his way and meet a hopeful smile.

I can’t help smiling. “It’s a perfect day. Too good to waste.” I boldly take his arm. “What will you do once we reach the bakery?”

“Further investigation. Spying. Watching over you.”

“Will you walk home with me this evening?”

“Only from a distance. Your mother will be tracking your every move. If the statue follows you, don’t react.”

“I know. Should I take Miette home with me again?”

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