Twenty.

BS over Breakfast

 

Tucker returned the next morning with breakfast. He burst through our bedroom door with an expectant expression that quickly fell. “Was I not clear enough? No virgins under my roof, Jens. Rise to the occasion, mate.” He looked pointedly at Jens’s crotch.

Jens threw a pillow at Tucker. “Get out. And what if we had been in the throes? You just bursting into rooms without notice doesn’t bode well for my evil plans concerning this one’s virtue.”

I didn’t love Tucker’s influence that brought out Jens’s crappier jokes. I rolled away from Jens, picked up my pillow and shoved it over his face. He jerked around in faux panic, pretending I was strong enough to smother him with the harmless pink object. “Death by flowers!” I declared. “I killed you with a pillow. I win.”

Jens stayed limp even after I took the pillow away.

“I think you actually snuffed him out, käresta.” Tucker wore fitted khaki pants, a tailored slate dress shirt and the same maroon suspenders. His Newsies cap completed the outfit, making him look infinitely more stylish than any of us ever ventured. “Fancy true love’s kiss to wake him?”

“After the crack about my virtue? He can sweat it out a little while longer.” I thanked Tucker for the croissant he handed me.

Jens sat up in exasperation, leaning back on his elbows. “Come on! I need mouth to mouth! It’s so obvious. Way to let the joke die, guys.”

“They’re buttery,” Tucker warned of the pastry. “Practically dripping with the stuff. You might want to take off your gloves so you don’t ruin them.”

I turned my back on him so he couldn’t read my expression. “I don’t mind. Thanks, though.” I tried not to hate my gloves; they were a necessity, and I understood why I had to wear them. I guess I just never realized how much I enjoyed the use of my naked hands until I didn’t have that luxury anymore. Jens kissed my cheek, sensing the internal battle I was struggling to be cool with.

“It’s almost nine o’clock,” Tucker informed Jens. “If you want to do sneaking that doesn’t look like sneaking, now’s your window. You go invisible, and I’ll find some excuse to make them open the backdoor where they keep the orders. Slide on in and no one’s the wiser.” Tucker turned to me, touching his finger to my nose, which crinkled at the too-familiar contact. “You can stay out of trouble if we leave you alone for a measly hour, right, älskling?”

“Well, I assume I’m allowed to burn your house down, since you singed mine. Where do you keep the matches?”

“Ah, that human wit. Hilarious. I did a lot of things I didn’t want to in order to secure this house. I’d like it to still be in one piece when we get back.” He looked at me sideways, and then cocked his head to the left to examine me anew. “Interesting.”

“What?” I straightened my hair under his scrutiny.

“You have so much magic in your blood, but you can’t perform even the simplest spells? Your human gene, is that what you are most, then?”

“Actually, no. One of my grandparents was human. That’s all.” I shoved the rest of the croissant in my mouth.

Tucker frowned. “It doesn’t measure up. You’re mostly Huldra and elf, right? Well, after Alrik’s arv, you’re mostly elfin.” He set down the empty croissant bag and held up his hands this time before putting them on me. “May I? I just want to see something.”

“Um, okay. What are you looking for?”

“Traces of magic.” He pulled me into the rose-bedecked bathroom where there was more concentrated light. His right hand cupped my chin and tilted it upwards. I had to fight hard to resist the urge to jerk away from him.

Jens stuffed his bulky arms into a fresh black t-shirt and stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “What are you talking about? She can’t do magic. Her twin brother couldn’t, either. He was born with the Huldra tail, though.”

“Whistle for me, love.”

I rolled my eyes and batted Tucker’s hand away from my face. “Game’s over. Hilarious, guys. Make me look like an idiot. Well done.”

“I’m not in on whatever this is,” Jens said, hands raised.

“It’s no game,” Tucker explained, and darn it all, I actually believed his sincerity. Perhaps he was just trying to be scientific.

“I can’t whistle,” I admitted. “So whatever litmus test you’ve got going on here, I won’t pass. Totally human and not even a really talented one. My mom’s the Huldra. She’s the one with the whistle.”

“Give it a try, sweetheart. For me.” Tucker was looking intently into my eyes, searching for something like a roadmap to my brain.

“Um, I don’t know you,” I reminded him. “Don’t call me sweetheart. I’m not your girlfriend, and I’m not five. Jens, you want to put a leash on your boy?”

“Tuck, what are you looking for?”

Tucker dropped my chin. “I would’ve put money on you not being able to whistle. I’m right. You’ve got magic in you, but it’s buried. If you want, I can get it out of you. You’ll have to trust me a little, though.”

I scoffed. “Pass. Have fun on your merry burgling adventure, kids.” I pushed past Tucker, kissed Jens on the cheek and left them to discuss me in ways I’d never thought to myself.