Page 44 of A Fate of Ice and Lies
“There was flan, fruit bombs, and merengues all over the kitchen counters,” I continued.
“Until Brenton went over,” George added with a grin.
With a sheepish look, Brenton rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “You know me,” he said, his tone self-deprecating.
His shame washed over me, and I paused to wonder if I was telling the right memory to pull him out of his funk.
He hadn’t seemed to mind when he took the blame for what I’d done. Had even teased my mother when she’d playfully patted what she thought was his full stomach. And had hugged her tight when she made extras just for him the following day.
“Except you didn’t do it,” I retorted.
One side of Brenton’s lip turned up in a small half grin as he rubbed his hands together. “You’re gonna tell George your dark secret?”
“We weren’t even sixteen yet, and you swore you’d take my secret to the grave,” I reminded him.
Brenton held up his pinky. With a shake of my head, I laughed and reluctantly linked my pinky with his.
“I’d never break a pinky promise.” While his tone wasserious, his lips spread into a broader smile that showed his pointy canines.
“The truth is”—I looked at George—“Brent found me hiding under my bed. I was so angry with myself for ruining my mother’s desserts. Just as I was getting ready to tell my mother what a fool she had for a son, Brent covered for me and told my mother he’d been the one to take a single bite out of every dessert she’d made.” I turned to Brenton, who sat a little straighter on the chair with that smug grin. “You didn’t let me call myself an idiot for what I’d purposely done, and I’m not gonna let you be hard on yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
Brenton grunted.
“Okay,” George said, his eyes narrowed at us. “But why’d you put the half-eaten desserts all over the castle? We found one between the couch cushions a week later.”
Brenton laughed. “That was all me. If we were gonna make Mama Renee believe I’d taken a bite of every dessert, we needed to do something absurd.” When Brenton reached for his ankle this time, he lifted the bottom of his pants. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she wanted to kill me or laugh.”
“I’d say a little bit of both.”
I sank back to my knees, and he let me slip his shoe off before he removed the sock. While I didn’t see any bones sticking out, it was swollen with black and purple bruises lining the ankle to the curve of his foot.
“I know you’d rather use your own magic to heal yourself, and I’m sorry you don’t have it,” I said.
Brenton stopped me when I wrapped a hand above his ankle to heal it.
“Don’t,” he gritted out.
Red spread from his neck to his cheeks, but I wasn’t sure if it was in anger, shame, or frustration.
“What would you have me do, then?” I asked.
He glared at his foot as if it’d betrayed him. “It’ll heal on its own.”
“That could take weeks.” I roughed a hand over my face. “I know you hate not having your magic. I hate it too, Brent, and fuck, I wish the Elder hadn’t taken your magic.”
Brenton shifted on the chair and waggled his brows at me in a way that told me he’d found something to tease me about. “Sounds like you’re taking on the humans’ colorful expressions just like Everly.”
I scoffed, not bothering to admit how much I enjoyed the way the humans swore. “Allow me to heal your foot.”
The stubborn brute pushed himself up, forcing me to stand with him. He balanced on one foot, and when he went to put pressure on his other foot, he hissed out his own colorful curse.
“It could be broken,” I said patiently.
When he stayed silent, I paced in front of him as he carefully sat back down.
Everything around me was a constant reminder of everything I’d screwed up. The cottage my friends had built and the calluses they carried from the labor I put them through every day.
I ran a hand through my hair and pulled on the ends. “I don’t think the human doctor will see you unless I enchant him,” I said slowly. “We can try, though.”
