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Belle: Are you alive?? You’re not answering your phone!
Eddie: Sleeping. I’m sleeping.
Belle: I’m calling you now.
...
Belle: You’re still not answering ☹
Eddie: Woman, I’m trying to sleep.
Belle: You were almost dogfood last night. We need to talk about it.
The next message from Eddie simply said Me, attached with a selfie shot that gave her an embarrassing burst of hot tingles everywhere. He looked asleep, face-up in bed, with one arm bent beneath his head. He was shirtless.
Eddie: Now you.
And the next text from him was a GIF of a Pomeranian yapping away in its sleeping owner’s ear.
Fine, she thought, miffed. Two can play that game.
She grabbed her big scissors from her desk and posed as if she were threatening to stab him with it. She snapped a picture but hesitated before sending it. If she really wanted to make him suffer.... She pulled off her pajama shirt revealing a strappy white tank top that was a bit low-cut. She resumed the same pose, scissors in hand like a knife, and her Imma-stab-you face.
The response was immediate.
Eddie: Dammit, siren, I hate cold showers.
After she recovered from her fit of giggles, she texted, See you later?
Eddie: Definitely.
Before she could analyze the origin of the goofy-grinned sigh that slipped out of her, she hopped off the bed to get ready for school.
Two odd things happened as soon as she stepped out of the house: a black cat zipped past her feet and into the first-floor museum. After ten minutes of not finding the cat, and Candy beeping the car horn at her from the driveway, she gave up and exited the house.
Two, a single, long-stemmed red rose was waiting for her on the porch swing. She held it up to show Candy, who put one hand over her mouth as if gushing. She laid it back down on the swing. Either Eddie or Liam had to be responsible for that rose. The thought filled her belly with butterflies, but she couldn’t figure out if it was one or both boys who launched those butterflies.
At school, the red-rose mystery was solved as soon as she set foot in the school. Random guys, some of them in the school’s royal blue football jerseys, each handed her a red rose and said, “From Liam.”
Even G handed her one, with Kat at his side.
“Oww!” Belle cried out when she closed her hand over the rose. She peered more closely at it. It was laden with thorns. The other roses had clean stems.
G threw her a sinister grin. Kat drawled over her shoulder as they continued past Belle, “Later, loser.”
Belle looked at the rose again. It was different from the others. It was a pinkish-red compared to the deep reds of the others. G or Kat must have swapped it out for a thorn-filled one. She tossed the offending flower into the nearest garbage can and washed her bloody palm in the girls bathroom. Thanks to her mutant healing ability, the cuts healed quickly.
In the afternoon, Belle plopped into her seat with her lunch tray. She lay the bundle of roses on the seat next to her.
“Let me guess. From Liam?” Cindy was back in her hoodie, but the silver eyeliner, pink lip gloss, and constant smile on her face happily reminded Belle she was seeing better days now. And Cindy was stunning, without even trying; just her smile was adornment enough.
“That’s what each flower-guy said.” Belle popped open the chocolate milk carton. “It’s a really sweet gesture.”
Cindy detected the hesitation in her tone. “But?”
“Well, it’s kind of embarrassing. The football team giving me flowers, and everyone’s looking and talking about it. I just really don’t like the attention.”
“That’s exactly what I told him.”
“Wait, so you knew about it beforehand?” Belle tried to ignore the stab of jealousy in her gut. “I mean, I guess maybe you would know, since you two live in the same place now.”
“I rarely see or talk to him. Yesterday we had an actual conversation when I ran in to him in the garden, and it was about you.”
Another green needleprick. She missed that garden. “Oh, sorry then. That must have been awkward.”
“No, it’s okay really. Fair warning though: Liam is set on winning you back.”
“I-I know I still like him, I can’t help it, but...he won’t explain why he left me hanging without a word all this time.”
Cindy finished off her fruit cup. “Maybe I can get it out of his assistant, Beatrix.”
“What is she like?”
“I try to avoid her like the plague.”
“Why?”
Cindy paused, giving it some thought. “She gives me the creepy Stepford-wife vibe.”
Belle half-choked on her bite of chicken wrap.
Q looked warily over his laptop at Belle. “Do you require the Heimlich maneuver?”
She shook her head and downed some chocolate milk.
“Good.” He looked relieved. “FYI, we have D&D tomorrow at 7:00 p.m. sharp.”
Belle perked up. “Where?”
Q and Cindy looked at each other with matching smiles before they both said, “Rawlins Castle.”
At her wide-eyed expression, Cindy hurried on. “Liam’s not going to be there, if that helps.”
Belle found that it did help. While Liam’s physical presence was titillating, engaging with him at this point made her way too anxious. Yes, Liam was making an effort with the roses, but she couldn’t get past his secret for deserting her. That was the wall that Liam would have to knock down between them if he was actually serious about winning her back.
And the several times she’d wanted Eddie to kiss her? For that, she blamed whatever hunter-magnetism he exuded to lure her in as prey. She was sure of it. He was a walking pheromone to her. That resting smolder look, his insanely unnatural good looks, and just his whole being was alluring to her. The perfect predator.
Why was she kidding herself? Eddie wasn’t preying on her; he was practically her friend at this point, even though he reminded her sometimes that she was still his Jäger-target. Or more like he kept reminding himself. Jeez, she must really have a bad case of Stockholm syndrome if she kept thinking of her potential assassin as a potential bestie.
“Why don’t you come over earlier, and we can hang out?” Cindy grew more excited as she spoke. “I can get your measurements for the pageant dress, and I can show you the designs I’ve been working on. You can tell me which ones you like best.”
“That sounds amazing!” Belle could see herself now. Re-visiting Grandmere, the name she’d given the wisteria tree in the rose garden, and sitting in the alcove of the library that she thought in her humble opinion was worthy of a king’s palace.
The girls agreed to walk together tomorrow after school directly to the castle. After bagging the rest of her lunch and getting directions from Q for the quickest way to the Peacock Fountain, Belle excused herself from the table.
As she made her final turn around the corner past the boys locker room, excitement began to fill her. She and Eddie were going to ditch class and go to the planetarium where he was going to tell her all about the Fae. All at once, she felt like a rebel and a geek.
The white circular stone fountain was big enough for a children’s pool party. A statuesque peacock with its tail feathers fanned out stood in the center, a stream of water arcing from its mouth. Around the fountain was nothing but patchy grass and clay tiles overgrown with weeds. Beyond it in the distance lay the athletics field.
There was one other sight by the fountain that stole Belle’s attention. Eddie sat on the fountain’s ledge, leaning forward on his elbows, staring pensively at two big red ants duking it out on the ground before him. His midnight hair fell over his forehead. He was out of school uniform and in an army green crewneck sweater and dark jeans. Belle herself was wearing a tan cardigan over her uniform shirt that brought out the light brown color of her hazel eyes.
A crisp chill invaded the air. It was the start of a Rhode Island winter, but according to Candy, not yet cold enough to pull out the Ugg boots.
Before she piped up with a cheery hello, she recalled the way things had last been left between them: flirty text this morning, and before that, Belle dreaming of Eddie battling it out with a beast, a werewolf actually.
Eddie looked like he’d had the upper-hand in that fight, but the werewolf had shredded his chest. Maybe the Jäger hadn’t been hurt by it, but was Eddie hurt and just downplaying the severity of the injury?
“You coming any closer, siren?” He was looking at her, one eyebrow arched in amusement.
Apparently, she had been standing some feet away, lost in thought while staring at him.
“Oh, of course.”
He stood as she approached, and she couldn’t help the way her eyes tracked him as he did.
The very air between them felt magnetized. She bet if she closed her eyes, she could still find him. No Marco Polo necessary.
That Jäger juju was strong.
“Keep looking at me that way, siren, and you’re going to cost me the progress I’ve made without my rosary.” His eyes flashed gold before settling back to their normal caramel.
Right. Tread lightly. No flirting, intentional or not. She didn’t want to be accosted by his kiss. Or did she?
“Who’s your other admirer?” He was eyeing the roses cradled in her arms.
“Other?”
He raised an eyebrow as if the answer was obvious. Oh, right. Him.
“But you are more stalker than admirer,” she corrected, nonetheless blushing from head to toe.
Ignoring that, he asked, “So you are giving the Rawlins boy a second chance?”
“Um,” she definitely didn’t want to have this conversation with him, so she deflected. “I brought you a chicken wrap, in case you still haven’t eaten.” She handed it to him. “Well, half of one, anyway. I ate the other half.”
He gave her his wide, side grin and slipped into a crisp, British accent. “Ah, milady, you come bearing gifts.” He unwrapped it and said before biting into it, “Allow me to reciprocate this evening with dinner.”
Oh sugar. He can’t be milady-ing her in that fancy accent. Didn’t he know that was a shortcut to her heart?
She cleared her throat. “I would be delighted, milord.” And she curtsied. Actually curtsied. “So you’re not leaving right after the planetarium?” Why, oh why, was she feeling something ballooning in her chest?
He polished off his last bite and said in plain old American English, “Not with a werewolf around. Especially one controlled by Violet Wickeby. It’s already massacred a slew of peafowls, and it was mighty interested in the campers last night, so I have to capture it soon.”
“I want to help you.”
He balked. “You’re helping me by staying with Candy and her grandmother until your uncle returns home. Please, promise me this.”
“But Violet’s not allowed to harm me. It’s a deal she made with my mother. I should be safe in my own home.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Crime’s up in this town. Shadow Spawn are spreading faster because of the evil magic present with Violet and this werewolf. Yes, you can defend yourself with your electrical power, but if you lose control and kill an innocent? I-I don’t want to do what I would have to do, Belle.”
He’d said her name. There was a sadness and urgency as he said it, which is why she said, “Fine. I’ll ask Candy if I can stay with her. But you know I can still help you. Last night was the second time I dreamt as the werewolf. I was able to see through Violet because it was my mom’s body and connection with her mind, but I have absolutely no idea why I’m seeing through this creature now. And Violet didn’t seem to be aware of my presence like she had been when I would see through my mom.” She reached out and absentmindedly brushed a fuzzy lint off his sleeve. “I wonder if my mother has anything to do with this now. I know that before, my mother used the connection to help me see what Violet was up to, so now, she’s letting me see what this creature is up to. So I can stop it. See? This is why I need to help! Isn’t the werewolf supposed to be a human? Maybe I can help by dealing with its human counterpart.”
Eddie released a deep breath. “Okay, siren, you’ll be the Watson to my Sherlock.”
She beamed, and he grinned back, so they were both left momentarily bedazzled by the other. Just as he was finally going to say something else, his attention snagged over her shoulder, and he frowned. She turned to look and felt stones drop in her stomach.
The football team had emerged from a backdoor near the boys locker room. She saw Dmitri’s red-haired, hulking figure leading the team out to the field. About half of the tail end of the group, led by G, spotted Eddie and Belle, and started heading toward them. The expressions on their faces spelled trouble.
“Siren,” Eddie said in a low voice, “whatever happens, try not to lose control.” He nodded towards a security camera posted nearby. “In fact, why don’t you wait for me by my Jeep in the school parking lot.”
“It’s a good thing you can’t compel me then because I’m not leaving you to face them alone.”
He threw her a smirk, but a softness invaded his eyes. “Admirable sentiments, but you might not like what you see, and I don’t want to go super saiyan in public if you somehow get hurt.”
“Super-what?” She shook her head. “Can’t you just tell him to go away like you did on the bus?”
“I could, but what would be the fun in that?”
G, with his spiky dark hair and frosted tips, stopped in front of Eddie. “Second time I find you trying to put the moves on the Beast’s girl.”
Eddie’s brows snapped together in confusion. “Beast?”
“He means Liam,” Belle said. She turned on G, “Did he put you up to this?” Outrage was filling her like a noxious gas.
“All we know,” G gestured to the group behind him scowling like a pack of dogs, “if we help Liam with you—like with the flowers and shit—then he said he’d come back as quarterback, starting with the upcoming Homecoming game.”
“Unbelievable,” she seethed.
“So that means,” G stepped close enough so that he was almost nose to nose with Eddie, “back off, punk.” At the last word, he shoved his index finger into Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie’s lips twitched, containing a smile. He looked past G at the five football players closing in, rubbing their fists, and then at Belle’s wide-eyed, don’t-do-it look. She knew he wanted the fight like a kid wanted a toy, so when he sighed and showed his palms in surrender, she understood he’d done it for her sake.
“You’re right,” Eddie said, backing away. “I’ll go now. See you later, Belle.”
“Eddie, wait—” She only got two steps in Eddie’s direction before G’s hand closed over her arm, hard.
“Where do you think you’re going?” G said.
Belle was just about to rip her arm out of his grip and give him a piece of her mind, but Eddie was already by her side, peeling G’s hand away from her arm and bending it sideways in a way that made him cry out and sink to his knees.
“The lady goes wherever she wishes,” Eddie said, his tone like a blade’s edge and the British accent emerging with the last few words.
He was losing control.
She had only enough time to step aside as the other guys lunged for Eddie. Unfortunately, she tripped over her own feet, tumbled backwards over the fountain’s edge, and landed with a great splash. The frigid iciness of the water shocked her senses like a Russian slapping contest. She scrambled to her feet, thoroughly soaked, her roses fanning out all over the water’s surface.
A breathless Eddie was already there, extending a hand. “You okay, luv?”
She wanted to say yes as she took his hand and stepped out, but three things robbed her of speech: first, her body was a frozen ice sculpture; next, glancing at her surroundings revealed students now changing classes in the hallways, with some of them venturing towards them with cell phones poised as cameras, so they were officially about to become a scene, especially with four football players sprawled on the ground, including G, groaning in pain and cradling various body parts, all thanks to super-ninja Eddie; and finally, the biggest thief, was Eddie’s face itself just inches from hers, eyes abnormally luminous with concern, and his strong hands stroking her arms, trying to rub heat into them.
“Are you alright, luv? Talk to me.” And full British now.
She shook her head, reaching out a trembling hand toward his yellow, fluorescent eyes.
Understanding, he squeezed them shut. He pulled his glasses from his pocket and slid them on. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Hey!”
Belle saw it coming, and she was sure Eddie did too, but when he didn’t move to defend himself, only to stand protectively in front of Belle, she knew he was letting it happen, whether it was because his self-control was on a razor’s edge, or the spectators with phone-cameras were closing in, or probably both.
As soon as Eddie turned to face the shouter—who turned out to be Shawn from literature class, one of the two remaining football players still standing—a large fist connected with Eddie’s jaw, sending his glasses flying off.
Shawn stepped back and shook out his hand. “Dang, dude’s got a jaw like Kanye.”
“Stop it!” Belle shoved him, and her eyes, and everyone else’s, popped open with how far he flew back.
Eddie grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Don’t.” His lips were pressed into a hard line, but he wouldn’t raise his eyes.
She felt her nerves jittering as much as the goosebumps racing over her icy skin. The second football guy—Corey, as he was called by a bystander—was helping Shawn up, while the crowd was starting to take on the frenzied energy of a ringside MMA match, egging on more violence. She also noticed some of the other football players starting to make their way back from the field.
Hastily, she whipped off the rosary, and before Eddie could object, drew it over his head and tucked the cross into his shirt.
Immediately, a deep sigh escaped him and he lifted his eyes. They were still glowing.
She shook her head. “Th-They’re still...you need your glasses.” She pointed at where they lay, and when Eddie bent down to retrieve them, Corey drove a vicious uppercut into his stomach.
Just as Belle launched herself toward the cretin, Eddie collared her by the stomach. She struggled against his hold, her back to his chest. “Let me at ‘em!” she cried.
The crowd roared their approval, but her ears honed in on the crackling sound coming from her hands.
Eddie heard and saw, too. His hands immediately relinquished her hips to cocoon her hands. He put his lips to her ear, “Belle, it’s not worth it.”
And with his fingers tightly laced through hers, she felt the heated energy in her palms extinguish, and she huffed out a deep breath that had her curving back against him. It was only a second of full body contact. Like the flicker of lights briefly plunging the room into darkness, everyone around them disappeared, and it was just her and the all-consuming, protective male pressed in close behind her.
And the second was gone. The scene unmuted, the din hurt her ears again, the crowd’s faces recrystallized, and all those phones pointed at her and Eddie, recording the next juicy piece of gossip, especially considering the romantic-looking position they were in.
She tore from his grasp and ignored the sharp stab of pain that reverberated through her body.
What was that?
She’d have to analyze that later because at that moment the first football player reached them from the field, parting the crowd right behind Eddie. It was Thiago. And from Belle’s peripheral vision, another figure shoved through and came running toward them, calling out, “Eddie!”
Was that Millie?
Just as Thiago opened his mouth, “What’s going—” Millie tackled him, both hitting the ground with a thud and another roar from the crowd. She scrambled off him, and Thiago, still flat on his back, yelled at her, “What the hell?!”
“You were going to attack him from behind!” Millie shouted back. “Your football thugs were already beating him up!”
Thiago slapped Shawn’s helping hand away and shot to his feet. “Are you kidding?! Then why are all these other cats on the floor, huh? We were watching from the field—your boy kung-fu dropped them all in a matter of seconds!”
“Millie,” Eddie said softly, “please, stay out of it.”
Millie’s eyes flashed to Belle. “What happened?”
There was something about her tone that made Belle grimace, as if she were really asking, “Why are you here with my crush?”
“Excellent question, Millicent Kwan-Yin,” Dr. Earheart announced from behind. The crowd parted further as she approached, a red-headed thundercloud, eyes narrowed behind her glasses. She stood in their midst, hands primed on her hips, and glared at every single one of them, including the injured on the ground. “Why don’t we all have this conversation in my office. Follow me, now!”
While following the principal through the thick of the crowd, Eddie grabbed Belle’s hand and they slipped away, oblivious of Millie’s incensed stare.