Illusions (10 page)

“Smell it,” Laurel responded automatically. “I can taste the ones that aren't poisonous.”

“Taste?”

She looked up at Tamani, at his half smile. “No,” she said, instantly knowing what he had in mind. “No, no, no, n—”

Her words were cut off as two pollen-dusted hands cupped Laurel's cheeks and Tamani pressed his mouth against hers, parting her lips with his own.

Stars exploded in Laurel's head, their rainbow ashes coalescing into a torrential pastiche, a rapid-fire flipbook of flower parades and crazy. Through her head, unbidden, fleeting, and difficult to grasp, poured thoughts that made her giddy and queasy at once.
Mix with zantedeschia stamens for a potent antitoxin. Age revitalization in animals if fermented with amrita. Injectable Enticement block, rose petals, photo-resistor, salve daisies balm tincturepoisonnectardeath
—Laurel jerked away from Tamani, too dazed to slap him.

“Laurel? Laurel, are you all right?”

Laurel slumped back into her chair and brought her fingers to her lips.

“Laurel, I—”

“I asked you not to.” Laurel could tell that her tone was flat. Distant. But her mind was reeling. She knew she should be furious, but Tamani's presence barely registered at all, blocked out by the sensations that had assaulted her mind.

“You weren't going to do it. I had to at least try. I didn't mean anything by it—”

“Yes, you did,” Laurel said. Research was a convenient excuse, but Tamani had seen an opportunity and taken it. Fortunately for him, it had worked. Sort of. She looked up, numbly, at Tamani. Gradually it dawned on her that he had no idea what just happened.

“You want me to apologize? I will, if it's that important to you. I'm—”

Laurel put one finger to his lips, silencing him. At the touch of him the overwhelming flow of information didn't return, but the images were fresh in her memory.
Is that how it always feels, for the other Falls?
she wondered.
Or was that a fluke?

Her expression must have been perplexing, because Tamani stepped backward, out of Laurel's reach, and held his hands up, palms out, pleading. “Look, I just thought—”

“Shut up,” Laurel said. Her tone was still flat, but she wasn't feeling quite so numb anymore. “We'll deal with that later. When you kissed me, I got all these . . . ideas. For potions I've never heard of.” She thought of the way the word
poison
had invaded her mind. “I think maybe they're forbidden.”

“Why?”

“I've been doing it wrong, Tamani. I don't need to touch you. I might need to test my potions on you, assuming I find the right plants, but touching you won't tell me how to make potions
for
you.”

It took him a moment to process what she was saying. “What
did
it tell you, Laurel?”

“It told me how to make potions
from
you.”

“Holy Hecate, petals, branches, and breath,” Tamani swore, his face lined with concern. “You can
do
that?”

“With study and practice,” Laurel said quietly. How many times had Yeardley spoken those words to her? “I . . . I don't think that was something I was supposed to know about,” she said softly. “I don't know why.”

“That doesn't make any sense. Surely the other Falls know?”

“I don't know. Nobody's ever said anything. Why . . .” She was having trouble forming a coherent thought. Who in their right mind would think to use other fae as
ingredients
? “Why didn't that happen before?” she finally demanded. “It's not like I haven't . . . kissed you before.”

Tamani's grin was a little pained now. “Um, I may have bitten down on my tongue pretty hard just before I kissed you.”

Laurel's thoughts jerked to a stop. “That's disgusting!”

“Hey,” Tamani said with a shrug, “
you
said you cut things open and taste them, and I knew you weren't going to try either of those things on your own.”

He was right. Clearly it had made a difference. Casually touching him—or even kissing—wasn't enough. And yet . . .

“You should probably go,” Laurel said sternly. The numbness was fading. Tamani had
kissed
her! Without permission.
Again!
She knew she should be furious, but somehow anger couldn't pierce the shock she felt at her new discovery.

“If it makes you feel better, it really hurt,” Tamani admitted, his jaw at a funny angle.

“I'm sorry. And at least this time you didn't do it while David was watching,” Laurel added. “But you shouldn't have done it at all.”

Tamani simply nodded before turning and silently exiting the room.

As he left, Laurel brought her hand once more to her lips and lost herself in thought. Not thoughts of Tamani, for once. Thoughts of potions, powders, and poisons she somehow knew she was never supposed to learn.

THERE WERE FLOWERS IN LAUREL'S LOCKER ON MONDAY.
Not big flashy roses. Just hand-picked wild ones tied with a ribbon, which was how she knew they were from David. He wasn't the kind to make a big deal out of gifts—drawing more attention to himself than to the sentiment.

Which was why she found the jealous, possessive David so perplexing.

“I'm sorry,” David said, stepping quietly up behind her.

Laurel looked down at the flowers, but said nothing.

“I was totally out of line. I freaked out.” He leaned his back against his locker and ran his hands through his hair. “I just don't like him being here. I haven't from the beginning. I've tried to hide it and deal with it, and I guess I snapped last week.”

“I didn't do anything wrong,” Laurel said, avoiding his eyes as she stacked books in her locker.

“I know,” David said. “That's what I'm trying to say and apparently failing. It's not your problem, it's mine.” He turned to her now, his blue eyes earnest. “It's just that I know what he wants, and I don't want him to have it. Trust me,” he added, trying to laugh away the tension, “if you had a girlfriend as cool as mine you would turn into a freak at the thought of losing her too.”

“I had a boyfriend as cool as your girlfriend,” Laurel said, not turning around.

“I'll do better,” David said, leaning against his locker now so he could see her face. “I promise.”

Laurel stared at her locker, not wanting to admit that half of her anger was at herself. She wanted David to trust her, to know that she wasn't going to let Tamani steal her away. But David had every reason to be suspicious of Tamani—and how could she ask David to trust her when she wasn't even sure she trusted herself?

“I should have called sooner,” David said, pulling Laurel from her thoughts.

“I should have replied to your email,” Laurel admitted. “I was going to. I kinda wimped out.”

“So . . . are we okay?” David asked hesitantly.

This was the moment—the moment to tell him everything. To admit that she was in the wrong as much as he was. She opened her mouth, and—

“Hi, Laurel.”

Laurel and David both turned to look at Tamani as he delivered his morning greeting. Laurel looked up at David again, and lost her nerve.

“Yeah, we're okay,” she said quietly.

David released a sigh and wrapped his arms around her. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” Laurel said, guilt smoldering in her stomach.

After a pause he added, “So, we didn't get to do SAT stuff this weekend. How about this week?”

Laurel sighed, wishing with all her heart right then that she hadn't agreed to retake them. “Can't we study for something else? I don't even know why you're bothering with them. You scored more than seven hundred on every section last time.”

“Yeah, but that was ages ago. I really think I can do better this time.” He stopped. “Plus I want to be supportive of you.”

Laurel pursed her lips. She didn't particularly enjoy being reminded that her scores from last spring weren't great. Thus actually preparing this time.

“Anyway,” David rushed on, “we always study together and I wanted to make sure we could still do that.”

“Absolutely,” Laurel said, laying a hand on his arm. “I'm not going to stop doing things with you just because you're a jerk.” Laurel smiled to let him know she was kidding and, after a tiny hesitation, he laughed.

“So, after school?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” He hesitated and then chanced a quick kiss. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” Laurel replied, then wondered where that response had come from.

“I'll walk you to class.”

As Laurel shouldered her backpack she caught sight of Tamani leaning against Yuki's locker, smiling and chatting with her. As if sensing her watching him, Tamani looked over and met her eyes for the smallest of instants before turning right back to Yuki and smiling again.

Laurel didn't realize she had stopped walking until she felt David's fingers pulling her forward. She quickly caught up. “Well, well, well,” she said quietly.

“What?” David asked.

“Tamani's really making . . . progress with Yuki.”

David turned a little and looked across the hall where Tamani and Yuki were still chatting, Yuki clearly hanging on Tamani's every word. David shrugged. “Wasn't that the plan?”

“Sort of,” Laurel said, wondering why Tamani's friendliness bothered her so much. Was it because he had succeeded in befriending Yuki after Laurel had failed? “I guess I thought he was trying to convince her to be
my
friend.”

After kissing David distractedly, Laurel walked into her Government class, took her regular seat, and waited for Tamani to come and sit beside her. She could feel a headache coming on.
Great.
Just the thing to round out her morning.

Tamani came running in and slid into his seat just as the final bell rang. He was wearing a pair of black leather gloves with the fingers all cut off at the first knuckle.

“What are those?” Laurel said, wrinkling her nose. “Fingerless gloves went out of style before . . . mullets. You look like a dork.”

“Better a dork than a freak with glitter coming out of his hands,” Tamani hissed darkly. “As far as these kids know, they're all the rage in Scotland.”

Laurel felt bad for not realizing; after all, it was being around
her
blossom that brought pollen to his hands. “Oh. What are you doing with Yuki? I thought you were supposed to be getting
us
together, not hooking up with her,” she whispered as Mrs. Harms called attendance.

“I am
not
‘hooking up' with her,” Tamani hissed.

“Could have fooled me,” Laurel muttered.

Tamani shrugged. “I have a job to do here,” he whispered. “I do what it takes.”

“Including taking advantage of a clueless fae?”

“I'm not
taking advantage
of her,” Tamani whispered back, a little heat creeping into his tone. “I'm just being friendly. And if it turns out she's completely innocent in all this, then she'll have someone who can answer all the questions she has about herself.” After a long pause he added, “It worked pretty well with you.”

“Didn't work
that
well,” Laurel said caustically. “I'm not exactly
your
girlfriend, am I?” She turned back to the front of her class before Tamani could answer and raised her hand. “I have a massive headache; can I run to my locker real quick?” Laurel asked the teacher. Laurel didn't want to think about Tamani or David right now. It just made her feel worse about everything.

Stupid boys.

“Dendroid,” David said, looking up from his SAT prep book.

Laurel groaned. “Aren't we done yet? I think we've reviewed, like, two hundred words already.” She wasn't even exaggerating. It had been a good day though. Monday and Tuesday had both been a little awkward, but things had fallen back into their usual rhythm and now Laurel was actually getting something out of her studying again. They quizzed each other, rewarding correct answers with kisses, and for a break, finished up some homework for their individual classes in companionable silence. It felt like things were getting back to normal.

Laurel liked normal.

“Just this last one,” David insisted. “It's fitting.”

“Dendroid,” Laurel said, scrunching up her face. “A machine that lives in the ground?” she said with a grin.

David rolled his eyes. “Funny. No, actually, it's something you are.”

“Oh, annoyed. Tired. Burned out. Am I getting warm?”

“Okay,” David said, closing his book. “I'll take the hint before you beat me to death with it. We can be done.” He paused. “I just want you to do well.”

“I really don't think a ton of cramming the day before I take the test is going to help much. No, really,” Laurel insisted.

David shrugged. “Can't hurt.”

“Easy for you to say,” Laurel said, rubbing her eyes. She walked over to the bed, trailing her fingers across David's shoulders, then flopped down next to her own SAT prep workbook.

“You want me to quiz you on anything else? Maybe the math?”

Laurel grimaced. “I hate the math part.”

“Which is why you should work on it. Plus,” he added, “it was your best score last time even with no prep. I think you have a great chance of improving it. I mean, it didn't help that you weren't even in a math class last semester. Being in Trig should help a lot this time.”

Laurel sighed and turned her blossom to the sunny window. “Sometimes I don't even see the point,” she said morosely. “It doesn't matter how I do on the SATs. Why am I retaking them?”

It had made sense to take them initially. At David's prompting she'd looked into the nursing program at Berkley, figured out what she needed to score. Even studied, a little. Sort of. But the test hadn't been what she expected; if nothing else, it was more than four hours in a windowless room. She'd done abysmally on the essay and failed to even finish one of the verbal sections. And she'd just guessed on about a third of the math questions. Even before her below-average scores came back she knew she hadn't done well. In some ways, that made her decision easy—especially since she'd mastered a new potion the same day she got her scores. It was practically a sign. She wasn't going to college; she was going to study at the Academy of Avalon. It was clearly meant to be.

But she knew she
could
do better.

“Laurel,” David said, frustration coloring his tone, “you keep saying that and I still don't understand why. Why can't you go to college?”

“It's not that I can't,” Laurel said. “I'm just . . . not sure I even want to.”

David looked concerned, but he hid it quickly, before Laurel's conscience could prick her too much. “Why not?” he asked.

“I'm getting really good at Mixing,” Laurel said. “Seriously. Tama—everyone's impressed with my progress. My practice is really starting to pay off and I'm totally getting this intuition thing. It works.
I
make it work. It's exciting, David!”

“But, are you sure? I mean, it's not like you have to be in Avalon full-time to get better. You can practice here. Look at your room—you've totally out-geeked me,” David said with a laugh. “You can keep doing that and still go to college too.” He hesitated. “You could do your faerie studies instead of a job, since tuition won't be a problem for you.”

“It won't be for you either, Mr. Straight A's.”

“Well, that's why my mom finally let me quit
my
job.” He grinned. “Financially investing in my future in a whole different way now.”

“And the added advantage of getting to spend more time with your girlfriend is a bit of a plus,” Laurel replied, pulling his head down close and kissing him as much to change the subject as because she wanted to. His arms went to her waist, brushing her petals, but not lingering.

They lay on his bed with Laurel's knee resting on David's hip. Just lying together seemed to soften the frustrations of the past few weeks. She snuggled her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, remembering why she enjoyed being with David so much. He was hers—always had been, if she was honest with herself—right from that first day. And he was always so calm, even in the face of outrageous things like flowers growing out of her back, trolls throwing them in rivers, faerie spies. Things that would surely have sent anyone else running for the hills. And probably to the news stations too. That alone made David one of the most loyal people she'd even known.

She ran her fingers absently over David's ribs and lifted her face so her forehead rested against his cheek.

“Laurel?”

“Hmmm?” Laurel asked, not opening her eyes.

“Can I just say—and let me finish before you say anything—I think you should try really hard on your SATs this time and apply to a few colleges. You've studied a ton the last couple of months anyway. Why throw that away?”

He paused, but Laurel was silent.

“Thing is,” he continued, “applying, getting accepted even, doesn't mean you have to go. But when you graduate and—” He hesitated and Laurel bit her lip, knowing this was hard for him to even say. “And you have to start making decisions, I don't . . . want you to ever feel trapped. Options are good.”

The minutes slid quietly by as Laurel thought about that. David was right—she didn't
have
to go just because she got accepted. And she knew all too well that feeling one way now didn't mean she'd feel the same way later. Lots of things had changed in her life, as well as in her head, over the past several years. Often for the better. “Okay,” she said softly. She knew that when David said, “Options are good,” he was really saying, “Don't make a choice that will separate us for sure.” It was his way of holding on for as long as he could—keeping open the possibility of forever.

But that didn't make him wrong.