Page 81 of Roses Are Dead
Only then did I break the circle and let the magic flow into the world. Carl would get what was coming to him. I had to trust the universe with that.
As I cleaned up, I found several more caltrops. The total hit seventeen. Either they were sold in batches of six and I’d missed one, or possibly tens, and I’d missed three. But it was too dark to find anything, and I needed to get dinner ready for Bear.
In fact, he should have arrived by now.
I cleaned my muddy hands, changed clothes and brushed the brambles out of my hair.
Still, no Bear.
Ah, well. I was hungry. I made short work of a quick chicken stir fry. And waited on the rice I’d tossed into the cooker. I should have timed it better. The vegetables softened as they simmered.
Then the distinct rumble of motorcycle and the clatter of the garage door announced Bear’s arrival.
The door opened as the rice cooker beeped, letting me know the food was done.
“You’re just in time.”
Bear sniffed at the air. His eyes scanned the house like there were threats in every corner. “Dinner’s ready?” His tone was cautious, as if he didn’t trust the timing.
I ignored him and set two plates on the table. “You don’t have chopsticks, do you?”
He grunted and bumped me as he shoved his way to the sink to wash his hands and face. “I don’t fucking use chopsticks.”
“I take that is a no. Rough day?”
He glared at me like his bad mood was my fault.
I sent him a placid, but neutrally firm stare back, daring him to start the fight. His body was tense. It caused his movements to slice through the space around me, leaving a wake of anger.
Something had set him off.
I quickly gathered utensils and pulled out two beers.
It had been that kind of day for both of us.
He sighed as he studied the table and the food I plated.
“How’d you know when I was coming home?”
“I didn’t. Just coincidence.”
He glanced at the clock. His forehead creased, grooving the narrow path between his eyebrows deeper.
“Do you think this is enough? Should I heat up—” My hands fluttered through the air as I spoke.
“Rose. Stop. I’m not fucking Carl.”
I swallowed. He picked up on that? I hadn’t even clued in on my nerves until he bludgeoned me with the truth. “Okay.” I slid into my chair and tried to calm my mind to thank the Gods for the fortune I had.
Bear was a little more vocal. He cracked open the beer first, raising it high. “Hail, Thor Odinson. I raise my ale to you. Grant me strength through nourishment and grant me peace through alcohol.” He slugged down a good portion of the can, then burped loudly. The can rattled, near empty, as he set it on the table with a heavy sigh.
I lifted a forkful of food. “I call to thee, Freya, the mistress of bounty and war. Thank you for your blessings of food and insight. May both bring this house peace.”
Sure, that was a subtle hint. One that wasn’t lost on Bear.
He shoveled food into his mouth, pausing as he chewed. The next bite was slower, more reverent. After the third, he set his fork down and looked skyward. “Thank you, Freya.”
His eyes fell upon me, studying me as I ate.
