Reflection Pond (21 page)

Callie curled her fingers into a fist so she wouldn’t touch. “How do you know what it means?” All the imprints were beautiful, flowers, trees, plants, delicate lines, but none of them made sense, pretty pictures, not some roadmap to the future.

Jack tugged his tunic down and smoothed the front. “The prophetess tells us.” He held out his arm again and Callie tucked her hand there, comforted by his light, cheerful energy. “Sapphire is a great prophetess, you know.”

Her lips dipped into a frown. “Actually, I don’t know. What exactly does a prophetess
do?”
They stepped into the cover of trees. The air cooled and filled with the green scent of leaves and damp earth.

“She focuses mostly on bringing the fae home. When a child comes of age, trackers
are sent to retrieve them. Or in your case, you klutz-fall into the pond.” He flashed a smile. “She’s involved in the births, divining the futures, spelling the amulets…” he trailed off with a little shrug. “She watches for threats to the city, not that there’s been much to see. Until you, of course.”

Callie sighed. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“People are jealous. I wouldn’t worry overmuch. Between the guards, the increased ward strength, and Rowan as your personal protector—”

She arched an eyebrow, not liking the part about Rowan. “He’s not—”

“Have you ever heard the saying about jumping in front of a speeding bullet?”

“It’s not like that,” she argued.

“It is.”

Quiet settled around them, heavy as a blanket, as if forest held its breath, waiting for Callie’s response. She chewed her lip, irritated that everyone noticed what she didn’t.
First Willow, now Jack. “And why does it matter to you?” she asked eventually.

“Gossip, darling, was created by the fae. Along with vengeance, greed, envy, gluttony, a million other things that involve glamour and magnificence.
Though I only consider myself envious, well, that and magnificent. I’ve been here years and nary has a head turned in my direction. Honestly, what’s a boy to do?”

She smiled and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’ll turn my head your way.”

“Ah,” he patted her face with a cool palm, “a pity turn. Lucky me.”

It was the most relaxed Callie felt in weeks. Maybe it was because she knew Jack wasn’t interested in her, or being away from the palace, but she found herself talking. “I was running from a guy when I fell through the pond.”

“A hot guy?”

She shook her head. “Not your type. Football sort, you know,
my muscles are bigger than my brain.”

“Too bad, kind of ruins the mental picture—continue.”

“We’d dated for months—but I couldn’t,” she swallowed the monster in her throat, hating its claws, “I could never…”

“Seal the deal?” Jack supplied.

“Yes. That.”

“I imagine it was his loss, not yours.
Men,”
he made a disgusted sound,
“pigs.
I’m assuming he’s not the one who…” Jack let the question hang between them, and she knew he was thinking of the day he’d found her in Sapphire’s cabin surrounded by broken glass.

Callie was silent for a long time.

“There’s more to this story, isn’t there?” he asked.

They’d reached the northern gate. Four guards stood watch; though Callie wasn’t sure how
effective they’d be with their hands empty, unless they thought their surly expressions would maim any fae that attacked. She wondered if they had offensive powers like hers, a monster hidden beneath their skin.

Jack nodded at the guards and they turned around, headed back for the city.

“I don’t have to tell you about the
more
, do I?” She could still feel the cold porcelain against her thighs. The impossible, never-ending pain.

“Of course not.”

They didn’t speak until they emerged into the sunlight. Her skin warmed and she turned her face upward. “What kind of power do you have?” She wanted to ask every fae she saw, hardly restraining herself. Ash had said that most fae have one power, not a handful as she did.

“I sense things. I guess you’d consider me an empath. I can read emotions.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Not very cool.”

“No—it’s not that.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. In the grand scheme of my life, it makes sense. It works both ways, though. Because I already know what you’re feeling, it puts you at ease. People will tell me anything I want to know.”

“So that’s why I told you all that stuff about Nate!” she said.

“The meathead has a name,” he crowed. “I shall hunt him and pluck his nose hairs individually, with blunt tweezers.”

It was Callie’s turn to laugh. The sound died on her lips as the cottages came into view along with harsh male grunting. They reached the final bend just in time to see Rowan slam Ash to the ground. Ash’s head bounced off the grass and his teeth snapped together with a crack.

“Rowan,” Callie yelled, letting go of Jack and running to them. “What are you doing?”

Rowan squinted and pushed a damp tangle of hair off his forehead.
“Teaching.”

Callie gaped at him. “What?” She dropped to her knees and lifted Ash’s head. Dirt smudged the side of his face and a bruise highlighted his jaw. He moaned.

“Ash?”

He moved his head slowly, first one side, then the other. His neck popped and he sighed. “I’m fine.”

“See?” Rowan said, smug.

“He’s not fine,” she argued, glaring at Rowan. “Heal him.”

“No.”

“What is your problem? Heal him.”

“I don’t need healing,” Ash grumbled.

“Besides, he asked for this,” Rowan said.

Callie stilled, fingers in the middle of brushing dirt from Ash’s cheek. “Asked? He
asked
for you to be a dick?” Anger gathered in her veins, hot as molten lava. Jack took a few steps away and rolled back on his heels, clearly sensing her emotions. Callie stood and shoved Rowan’s shoulder, hating the firm resistance. He took a tiny step to regain his balance. “You want to fight?” she yelled. Several fae turned in their direction, pausing on the path between the cottages and the city.

“Callie,” Ash said from the ground, “I asked him to teach me how to fight.”

“You
what?”
She held out a hand and pulled Ash to his feet. He wavered, unsteady, and Jack came to the rescue, keeping Ash upright. “This isn’t funny.” She pushed Rowan again. “You could’ve really hurt him.”

“I’m fine,” Ash repeated, forcing a smile. His teeth were bloody.
“Really.”

“He’s
fine,”
Rowan mocked.

Ash stepped away from Jack and Callie and straightened his shoulders, wincing. He blew a breath through his teeth. “Let’s go again.”

Rowan gestured for Ash to make the first move.

Callie stepped between them. “You’re not doing this. You’ll kill him,” she said.

Ash rolled his eyes. “Rowan is teaching
you
to fight. I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

“How about two-on-one?”
Rowan suggested.

“You’re on,” Ash said, limping forward.

Callie stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Stop it. What is the matter with you two?”

“You don’t see me fighting anyone. I’m more of a lover than a fighter,” Jack interjected.

Rowan smirked. “Me, too. Let me prove it.”

“No. No one is proving anything. Go
away
Rowan. I need to train with Ash.”
Before you kill him.

Rowan looked disappointed.
“Tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, nodding.
“Tomorrow.”

***

“Why would you possibly think this is a good idea?” Callie demanded, opening Ash’s door and waiting for Jack to go inside and search the place.

Ash sulked. He leaned against the wall and refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t know why you have to make a big deal out of it. No one said anything when you wanted to learn to fight.”

“That’s different,” she said, though she didn’t have a good reason why. She wanted to fight to protect herself, maybe that’s what Ash wanted too.

She didn’t believe it.

Looking back, she’d probably overreacted. Rowan was volatile. She might’ve made it worse for Ash. A midnight blue bruise covered the top of his foot and the sleeve of his tunic was torn from the seam. “What did he do to you?” she muttered.

“All clear,” Jack said, returning from the depths of the apartment. “I’ll just wait out here.” His expression said,
no way am I getting in the middle of this.

She dragged Ash inside and left him on the couch, nursing his wounds. Callie scrounged up a towel and used a sweating pitcher on the counter to wet it. When she touched them to Ash’s jaw, he flinched.

“Ow.” His eyes flew open.

“Rowan’s good,” she said.

“I’m realizing that.” He covered Callie’s hand, pressing it harder to his face.

“Why do you need to fight, Ash? You’re a teacher.”

“Not a warrior, thanks for reminding me.” He sighed. “I like you taking care of me.”

Callie stilled. She wished Jack had come inside with them. Suddenly Ash’s apartment felt cramped and close. She wanted to be back outside, in the sunlight. “You could’ve just asked me over. You didn’t have to get beat up.”

“I know it’s stupid. I just—I see the way you look at him. I fought Rowan to get to you.”

Callie’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“God, I’m a moron,” he muttered. “I don’t even want to admit it.”

Ash was beautiful, not in the dark and dangerous way that Rowan was beautiful, or in the innocent and carefree way of Jack. Ash’s skin had a gentle glow from the sun, not quite golden, but pink. Freckles peppered his nose and tiny blue veins snaked the skin on his eyelids. She slid her hand from beneath his, touched the darkening bruise.

“The night he saved you, I wished…I wished it were me. That I could do something like that,” Ash said softly. “I thought maybe I could learn to be more like him. Stronger…better, somehow.”

There was a long pause before Callie said, “You’re
jealous?”

His lips curved. “I have a concussion. I’m not liable for anything I say.”

Ash’s cheek was prickly beneath her hand. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not—” she mumbled.

“So don’t say anything.” He sat up now, catching her fingers. “What are you so afraid of?” He pressed a finger to her mouth when she tried to answer. “It’s a rhetorical question. I have zero expectations here. If you want to run away,” his hand slid from her lips to cup her cheek and finally to the back of her neck, “run away.” He searched her face.

Callie thought of Hazel’s advice.
Face your fears.

She took a deep breath. She could see the gold rings in the center of Ash’s irises as he leaned in closer. His eyelashes were darker than his hair and cast shadows on his cheek when his eyes closed. Her heart thudded.

There was indecision and panic. She felt hot and cold all at once.

Then their lips met.

His mouth was warm, soft, and despite his fight with Rowan, he smelled sweet. He didn’t drag her into him or deepen the kiss, just waited until she either accepted or denied him. Callie surprised herself by returning the gentle pressure. She didn’t know what she felt for Ash, yet this felt okay. She waited for the instinctive reaction to push him away or Ash’s cry of pain when she accidentally exploded him, but they never came.

Ash pulled away first and rested his forehead against hers. Callie’s heart pounded beneath her ribs, she felt lightheaded. Ash’s hand still claimed the back of her neck. He kissed her again, quickly.

***

It was very late into the night when the quiet knock filtered through Callie’s dreams. She
came instantly awake, heart pounding a frantic tempo. The sound came again. Callie kicked free of the sheets tangled around her legs and climbed from the bed. She found Rowan waiting on the other side of the door.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, looking over his shoulder at the dim, empty hall, expecting someone to be with him. “Where’s Jack?”

Rowan lifted a shoulder. “Around.”

“What did you do to him?” Callie opened the door wider. “Did you decide to
teach him how to fight, too?” She was still furious with Rowan for how he’d treated Ash.

Rowan eased himself into the gap, forcing Callie back into her bedroom. “He’s fine. I need to talk to you.” He closed the door without a sound.

“About what, Rowan? It’s the middle of the night.” She sat on the bed and folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him.

Rowan stood backlit by the fireplace. The flames gave him a rust-colored halo. He looked as though he hadn’t yet been to bed. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been to see Sapphire.”