Chapter Fourteen
Blondy, of all people, saved her by bursting into song. He had a great set of pipes, Addy would give him that. A pure tenor that darkened and deepened as he caressed the lower notes and soared bright and clear on the top notes of the cheerful little ditty he sang. Or at least it sounded cheerful. She couldn’t understand a word he said, probably because he wasn’t speaking English . . . or any language she recognized. Not that it mattered. The guy could sing right out of the phone book and nobody would care. He was that good.
Evie gazed at Blondy all limp and dewy eyed. It made Addy want to slap her. But then she’d have to slap herself, too, wouldn’t she, because hadn’t she looked at Brand the same dopey way a few seconds ago? Truth was she owed Blondy one. If he hadn’t started wailing she might have forgotten who and where she was and dragged Brand off to the ladies’ room, and there would have been wailing of a different kind. And Mama would have found out—’cause Mama always found out—and all her years of being a good little girl and a rule-follower would have been for nothing, ’cause it would be all over town that she had sex in the Sweet Shop bathroom with a man she’d known less than twenty-four hours.
Her secret identity would be revealed once and for all, and everyone in Hannah would know that boring Adara Jean Corwin was Super Slut Puppy in disguise.
Addy glanced around the restaurant. None of the other diners seemed to mind the impromptu karaoke. In fact, they seemed spellbound, gazing at Ansgar in rapt adoration. The farmers at the next table clapped and stomped their booted feet in time to the music. Things shot into hyper-weird when Pauline spun out of the kitchen like a jewelry box ballerina. She twirled across the black-and-white checkerboard floor, set two chocolate pies in front of Brand and Ansgar, and pirouetted away, Anna Pavlova in sensible, slip-resistant rubber-soled waitress shoes.
She floated up to the table of farmers, executed a graceful attitude en pointe, and refilled their tea glasses.
“Uh, is it me, or is Pauline acting a little strange?” Addy said.
Brand helped himself to half a pie. “It is Ansgar’s singing. It has that effect on some humans.”
“Look at Evie, for crying out loud. She’s practically a puddle.”
Brand glared at her over his plate. “What about you, Adara Jean? Does Ansgar’s singing make you puddle?”
Addy wrinkled her nose. “Jeez, dude, leave a girl a little mystery, won’t you? That’s kind of personal.”
His scowl deepened. “That is not an answer.”
The room became dark and airless. A deafening clap of thunder rattled the tin roof overhead. Startled, Addy looked out the window. The blue sky had darkened to an ominous gray, and a stiff wind bent the heavy branches of the live oaks on Main Street. A sudden change of weather in the summertime wasn’t unusual in steamy, sultry Hannah, but even for the Deep South this was freaky. Almost as if . . . She took a quick peek at Brand. Nah, couldn’t be. That would be too bizarre. What was she saying? Like everything in her life right now wasn’t bizarre.
“Relax, big guy,” she said. “Blondy doesn’t do it for me.”
Brand’s expression cleared. “Good,” he said, returning his attention to his pie.
At once, the heavy sense of oppression lifted from the room. Addy looked back out the window. The heavy, black thunderclouds thinned to ragged wisps and blew away, and the trees stopped whipping around. Note to self. New boyfriend’s moods may affect weather.
Ansgar launched into another verse.
“What’s he singing?” she asked. “I mean, it’s not English.”
“A Gorthian folk song. Ansgar has a fondness for the place.” Brand shrugged and slid the rest of the pie onto his plate. “Why, I do not know. Gorth is an inhospitable clime, beautiful but harsh. A land of treacherous mountains and raging seas, infested with dwithmorgers and other dangerous beasts.”
“Dwith—” Addy shook her head. “Never mind, I’m not going to play your silly little game.”
Ansgar stopped singing and reached for the other pie. Beside him, Evie stirred, like Sleeping Beauty waking from a centurylong nap.
Her eyelids fluttered. “My goodness, that was wonderful.”
“Huh,” Addy said. “While you were making goo-goo eyes at Blondy you missed Pauline grand jeté-ing through the kitchen door.”
“What?”
“Pauline was dancing. On her tippy-toes.”
Evie gave a deep sigh. “It’s Ansgar’s voice. It does things to you.”
“Didn’t do a thing for me. And a good thing, too. Somebody has to keep a level head around here, what with you mooning over Blondy, Pauline dancing Swan Lake, and Jim Bob and Clyde over there doing the River Dance.”
Evie giggled. “Now who’s being the fun sucker?”
Addy stiffened. “I am not—”
“Good pie.” Brand pushed aside the empty plate. He watched with an expression of dreamy indulgence as Ansgar devoured his dessert. “Is it not excellent, brother?”
“In truth, I have not tasted anything like it.” Ansgar scraped the last bit of chocolate off the plate. “Quite extraordinary.”
Brand grinned. “I knew you would like it.”
To Addy’s astonishment, a mini jungle of thorny, green vines sprang from the wall next to their table. The vines produced buds and burst into full bloom, perfuming the air with the fragrant scent of tea roses. On the other side of the dining room, cracks opened in the rough wooden panels and thick ropes of wisteria slithered out, festooning the wall and rafters with purple clumps of sweet-smelling blossoms. The scents of jasmine, honeysuckle, and gardenia filled the room. The black-and-white tile floor erupted in a profusion of poppies, buttercups, daisies, blue bonnets and foxgloves, transforming the interior of the Sweet Shop into a garden wonderland and a living hell for allergy sufferers.
Jeez, the guy smiled . . . and jungle city.
“Pretty,” Evie said with a rapturous smile.
Evie was slack faced, her pupils dilated. Great, best-est buddy was stoned out of her gourd. Whether from the intoxicating floral miasma that hung over the room or the happy hormones Brand and Ansgar shed like a St. Bernard in Miami, Addy did not know. Evie was smashed, pickled . . . loaded to the gills. She looked around the room. Clyde and Jim Bob were making daisy chains. Over in the corner, Edith and Mildred Judson, the prim retired twins who’d taught Addy and Evie math and science in high school, held hands and danced in a circle. Their cousin, Myrtle Glenn, pranced around the room on a pretend pony, her spray-starched, lavender-tinted beehive hairdo bobbing up and down as she galumphed. Miss Vi, Del, and Pauline came out of the kitchen and joined the Judson twins in a noisy game of ring-around-the-rosy.
“This is nuts,” Addy said. “Where am I supposed to get fried chicken now that you’ve turned the Sweet Shop into the Dalvahni freaking botanical gardens?”
Brand gave her a lopsided grin. “You worry too much, little one. Have some pie. Pie is good.”
Ansgar nodded. “Pie. Good.”
Addy gave them a narrow-eyed glare. “You’re drunk.”
Brand sat up straight in his chair. “You are mistaken. The Dalvahni are not affected by stimulants of any kind.”
“Hey, I was a sorority girl at Alabama. I know a drunk male when I see one. You’re loaded.”
“Inconceivable.” Brand waved his hand at Ansgar. “Ansgar, another song.”
“Yes, brother.” Ansgar pulled a giggling Evie onto his lap.
Taking a deep breath, Ansgar launched into a bawdy English chantey that made Brand grin and slap his thigh in time with the beat. Vi and Del broke into a vigorous jig. Blondy reached the third verse about a farmer’s daughter and a tin peddler, and Brand threw back his head and laughed.
The sound left Addy feeling breathless and wobbly. Or maybe it was the earthquake. The building shook, and a white tree shot out of the floor and grew to the ceiling. Bright silver leaves formed on the branches and unfurled in a glistening canopy. Miss Vi and Del giggled and ran to dance under the tree.
“Way to go, Miracle Grow.” Addy scowled at Brand. “You’ve gotten my friends high on Dalvahni pheromones and destroyed the only decent place in town to eat.”
“Do not distress yourself, Adara.” Brand tried to prop his elbow on the table and missed. “Once we abandon this place, all will be as it was. Ansgar and I would not dream of doing anything to cause Mistress Vi or her excellent spouse a moment’s distress. She gave us pie.”
Addy smacked her forehead. How could she be so stupid? “It’s the pie, of course! You said you’d never had chocolate before, right?”
Brand’s eyes crossed in thought. “That is correct,” he said at last. “It has been some ten or eleven centuries since last I visited this realm. What about you, brother?”
Ansgar still held a starry-eyed Evie in his lap. His glacial hauteur was gone. He blinked sleepily, but did not answer.
“Ho, Ansgar!” Brand waved his hand in the other warrior’s face. “How long since last you hunted the djegrali in this place?”
Ansgar stared at him, uncomprehending.
“Toasted.” Addy shook her head in disgust. “Whacked out on chocolate. A thirteen-year-old girl with PMS could eat both of you under the table in M&M’S.” She got to her feet. “Come on, big guy, let’s get you out of here before you have a fit of the giggles and throw a rain forest or something.”
“Dalvahni warriors do not ‘giggle,’ ” Brand said with great dignity. “It is not manly.”
She pulled him out of his chair. He was very heavy. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He swayed and almost fell.
“Hey now, none of that.” Addy grabbed him and placed both of his hands on the table. If he crashed and burned, she’d never get him out of here. “Hold on to this while I get Evie and Blondy up and moving.”
Keeping one eye on Brand, she walked around the table and tugged Evie out of Ansgar’s lap, ignoring the blond warrior’s protests.
“Pretty,” Evie mumbled, giving Addy a glassy-eyed stare.
“Right. You’re hammered, sweetie. Let’s get you some fresh air.”
Addy guided the unresisting Evie through the flower-strewn restaurant and outside to a wrought-iron bench.
“Deep breaths,” she ordered.
Evie obeyed. After a moment, some of the stupor faded from her expression. Addy was relieved. Zombie Evie was scary.
Evie put her hand to her head. “I feel funny. What happened?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Uh uh.”
“Oh, boy. Well, uh . . . Blondy started singing and you went stupid on me.”
“Addy!”
“Sorry, but it’s the truth. The smell from all the flowers was pretty intense, and Brand’s smiling didn’t help, but I think it was mostly Blondy’s singing that fried your brain.”
“Flowers? Brand smiling? Addy, you’re not making any sense.”
Addy sighed. “You do remember Ansgar and Brand?”
Evie gave Addy an as if look. “Two guys. Big. Beautiful. Musk-cally.”
“I think ‘muscular’ is the word you’re looking for.”
“That, too. Who could forget a couple of hotties like that?”
“Do you remember coming to the Sweet Shop for lunch?”
Evie frowned. “Yes, but after that things get fuzzy.”
“Long story short, Ansgar started singing, and you lost your beady little mind, and Brand got happy on chocolate pie and smiled the place into the Hanging Gardens of Hannah.”
“Addy, what are you talking about?”
“No time, Evie. Got to get back in there before Brand and Ansgar hit the sauce again. The chocolate sauce, I mean, not the drunk sauce. If you don’t believe me about the flowers, take a gander through the window. And don’t leave. I’m going to need your help.”
Addy hurried back inside. To her relief, Brand and Ansgar were right where she’d left them. She hesitated, unsure which one to tackle first.
Ansgar lifted his head, his eyes bleary. Poor Blondy, Addy thought with a reluctant pang of sympathy. Drunk on chocolate pie. So much for the mighty Dalvahni warriors. Felled by a simple bean.
“Whersh Evangeline?” he mumbled.
“Outside.” Addy pointed to the window framed by wisteria and climbing roses.
With an obvious effort, Ansgar turned his head. Evie blinked at them in astonishment from the other side of the window.
Ansgar’s expression darkened. “Evangeline, wharsh you doing out thersh?”
“She can’t hear you,” Addy said. “Come on. I’ll take you to her.”
Brand pushed off from the table. “Allow me.”
He reeled, and Addy leaped around the table to catch him.
She guided him to the wall. “Don’t move.”
“Feisty.” Brand closed his eyes. “I like it.”
“Uh huh.” She returned to Ansgar’s side and took him by the arm. “Come on, Blondy, you first.”
Brand opened his eyes and pushed upright. “No, Adara, this I cannot allow.” He removed her hand from the other warrior’s arm. “I will take him.”
Brand ignored her protests and helped Ansgar to his feet. The two warriors lurched toward the entrance. Addy darted ahead of them. She held open the door, and they reeled outside.
Ansgar grinned and waved at Evie. “Greetings, fair one.”
Evie’s frowning gaze moved from the blond warrior to Addy. “He’s plastered.”
“Told you,” Addy said. “So’s the other one.”
Brand swayed but managed to keep a grip on Ansgar. “The other one is right here, and he can hear you.”
“And they got this way on chocolate?” Evie asked.
“Yep,” Addy said.
Evie shook her head. “Unbelievable. Addy, did you know there’s a tree in the middle of the Sweet Shop? A great big silver tree.”
“Yeah, I know, Eves. I’m not a happy camper about it, either. How in the world are we going to explain this to people?”
“Do not be troubled,” Brand said. “The tree is no more.”
“But I saw—” Evie looked back through the window. “It’s gone,” she gasped. “It’s all gone, the flowers, the trees. All of it.”
“Thank God,” Addy said. “That’s one problem solved.”
Brand gave her a crooked grin, and the sidewalk at her feet exploded with flowers. “I told you all would be as it was. You worry too much.”
“For goodness’ sake, stop smiling!” Addy scolded. “When you smile, something sprouts. What about Vi and Del and the others? They’ll think they’ve had a mass hallucination. How you going to fix that?”
“Peace, little one. They will remember nothing but a sense of contentment and well-being.”
Addy gave him a black look. “You mean you messed with their brains.”
“I altered their memories.”
“I don’t like it, but I guess it can’t be helped.” She turned to Evie. “Come on. Let’s get them out of here before something else happens.”
“We could go to my house,” Evie suggested. “It’s not far.”
“Good idea.” Addy patted Brand on the shoulder. “Come on, big guy. Bring Blondy. We gotta walk off some of that pie.”
Brand’s handsome features assumed a blissful expression. “Pie.”
“P-i-e,” Ansgar echoed.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Addy caught them at the door to the Sweet Shop and turned them around. “No more chocolate for you. Not so much as a Milk Dud. You’re quitting, cold turkey.” She gave Evie a pleading look. “Help. Blondy likes you. Talk to him.”
“Sure, Addy, sure.” Evie hurried up and took Ansgar by the arm. “Would you like to see where I live?”
Ansgar gazed down at her, his silver eyes unfocused. After a moment, recognition seemed to dawn.
“Evangeline,” he said.
With a drunken grin he burst into song. Evie’s face went slack.
She mooned up at Ansgar. “Pretty.”
“Good grief,” Addy said.