Page 8 of Bargains with Benefits
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Had I heard that right? Was that an apology? She hadn’t turned to meet my gaze.
“I didn’t mean to—” She continued to stare at the moon like she was demanding an answer to some unspoken question. “Well, I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean for it to.”
“You threw a drink at me,” I said flatly.
She turned to face me and shrugged like she wasn’t surethat was accurate. I didn’t know why she’d deny it. It had been clear she was angry. I’d thought her displeasure was for whatever had brought her into the tavern in a huff, but the way her brow still pinched at me, I wondered if it was personal. What had I done?
“Did I do something to offend you?”
She sighed. “It wasn’t actually about you, but I supposed your words about this place struck a nerve.”
I felt like an ass, instantly deflating as I realized how pompous my comment had sounded. “I didn’t mean to insult this place.” I’d let Daisy’s words get in my head, willing to say anything to prove them wrong.
Her gaze was perplexed like she was trying to read something written in another language. “You’re old fae, aren’t you?”
I straightened. “I’m not sure why that is relevant.”
She pushed back the sleeves of the crème sweater she wore. The style was familiar but didn’t mix with the rest of her outfit. I’d guess it was from the boutique where my sister worked—an establishment I’d recommended a few months ago. It was the only recommendation I’d made that I regretted. Seeing the top on the bartender, I regretted it further. The sweater was all wrong on her. It seemed too timid, too reserved for someone whose eyes still raged like a summer storm.
“Were you angry at someone who was old fae?” I crouched closer to the water against my better judgment.
She pursed her lips before letting out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I apologize for ruining your jacket.” She looked...well, not peaceful but perfect, standing there in the water. The bartender was a tempest at sea and I watched from the safety of shore. With her chin still lifted high, she was crashing waves and swirling clouds at the cyclone’s center. I couldn’t look away. My wind was a gale force inside me, straining to get out. I wanted to let it. The water rippled aroundher, and I thought for a second I had. The pattern on the water was too precise to be from her jump into it.
“Why are you standing in the moat?” I asked.
The smell of moonflower struck me again, and I realized what it was as the small waves circled her—her magic. She must be Norden, water fae.
She laughed, and the sound was lyrical. I was drawn forward, wanting to hear more. “I find it calming, and I’ve had a bit of a day.”
“What caused your day?”
It was an impertinent question. This female—this fae—was a stranger. She didn’t seem to like me. Maybe I’d earned some of it, but certainly not all of it. Either way, there was no reason for her to answer. Still, I wanted to know, and she didn’t seem the type to let propriety hold her back. Her bright red lips, messily knotted hair, and even the high slits of her bright blue skirt were choices a little bold for most fae in Sandrin. I held back a smile, deciding that was precisely why she’d chosen them. She seemed so sure of her place in that moment. My wind surged with longing, like a squall in my chest.
It must be nice. I might be old fae, but I no longer knew where I fit in this city.
“My father.” Her gaze was downcast, and the word, the change in her demeanor, struck like an unexpected cut. She was showing me too much.
“He’s who I’m angry with.” She held my gaze as if forcing me to hear her words. Little did she know there was no chance I could look away.
Her mouth opened like she was about to say more, but then someone called from the backdoor, “Luna Pierce, are you done wallowing? Or do I have to run this place myself?”
She gave me a fleeting smile and stepped from the water. “I’ve got to get back. I’m sorry again I spilled on you.”
I was still unsure why we were calling it a spill. She’dthrown the drink at me. Before I could say so, my wind surged toward her feet without invitation, sweeping around them and drying them off.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, mortified.
Apparently, it was a night of apologies. My cheeks heated again as I stepped toward her, my hand reaching out to fix something that couldn’t be undone. I could only hope my flush didn’t show in the dark. It had been a long time since I’d lost control so blatantly.
“For an old fae, your wind is kind of alright.” Jamming her foot back into her boot, she glanced up at me. Daring me to argue.
We were too close. I’d invaded her space, but she hadn’t retreated. She stood there, a smirk tugging at her lip due to my obvious discomfort.
Though it wasn’t all discomfort, was it?
She was breathtaking. Our faces were so close I could see flecks of dark blue in her irises. They looked like crashing waves. I glared at her, unamused by her words but intensely distracted by our proximity, even as I fought to stop my lip from lifting into a matching smirk.
