“Thanks again for your help with my car the other day,” he said. His hair was tousled, falling over his forehead in a way that was severely and seriously adorable.
“No problem,” I replied when I reminded myself that I actually had to say words out loud.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, falling into step beside me. I struggled to think of something to say as we ducked under one of the many banners reminding us that the dance was later this week. “Are you going?” Edward asked.
“Um.” I usually didn’t bother going to dances. But if I said that he might think I was morally opposed to them on principle. And did it even matter? Maybe he was just making conversation.
“Well,” he said when we entered the cafeteria. I’d waited too long to answer. I smiled awkwardly. “Would you like to go?” he asked quickly. “With me?”
My smile suddenly didn’t feel awkward at all. I knew I was turning red, but I couldn’t help it. “Yes, I’d love to.” I said, my words practically tripping over each other. “I’d love to.”
“Cool.” He met my eyes. I felt it all the way down to my toes. The din of the noisy cafeteria receded. It was uncomplicated. I didn’t have to question it, not like that moment in Pierce’s room. I’d been wanting this for years. This was how I was supposed to feel. “Okay. See you later?”
I nodded and he sauntered off to sit with his friends as I blindly made my way to the table where Pierce and I usually ate our lunch. He was watching me steadily. I couldn’t read his expression. “You’re bright red. Are you sick?”
I sat down, grinning like an idiot. Maybe I wouldn’t turn crazy or feral after all. “I’m going to the dance.”
“So, yes, to that then.”
I stared out the window to the grass of the quad and the small slice of sky visible behind the trees. “What are you doing now?” Pierce asked.
“Looking for my swan,” I answered softly, staring through the glass.
Unfortunately, I found a swan after all.
The next day was one of those perfect autumn days, all sunshine and fading leaves and most of the school would flood out onto the grass to eat lunch outside. We anticipated the bell, skipping out of study hall. Pierce had his nose in a book, reading as he crunched into an apple. When I stopped abruptly, he walked right into me. “Are you thinking of Ed—” He broke off, swearing softly.
I couldn’t move. There was screaming in my head, but the rest of me was strangely calm.
A swan lay in the grass, long white neck limp and quivering. I couldn’t tell if it had any wounds. Adrenaline pinched me with cold fingers as Aisha’s training kicked in. I glanced around, assessing escape routes, locating my cousins. Pierce stood very close to me, his fingers hovering over the pocket knife he always kept in his pocket. He mostly used it to fix various parts of his trucks, but at the moment he looked perfectly willing to stab anyone who got too close. He was shielding me, and I had only a few minutes before everyone else came out and saw it.
I took a handful of dried comfrey and mint leaves from my bag and sprinkled it around. I stroked its breast feathers, singing softly. “Thus sang the maiden, her sorrows bewailing; Thus sang the poor maid in the valley below; Oh don’t deceive me, Oh never leave me, How could you use a poor maiden so?”
Heat tingled through my fingertips and the swan took a long shuddering breath, but it wasn’t enough. I could taste tears in the back of my throat as I tried to force another song out. Pierce touched my shoulder. He jolted slightly when the magic prickled between us.
“It’s gone,” he whispered.
“No.” I pressed the herbs tighter between the feathers, shaking my head. “I’ll try harder.”
But there wasn’t time.
It was already too still, like one of those ice sculptures at posh weddings.
Dead and placed there for all to see.
The lunch bell rang before we could do anything else. Pierce pulled me back. I held onto his hand tightly and he squeezed my fingers. Mei Lin was faintly green as she elbowed through the crowd already gathering. Someone sobbed but it wasn’t one of us, just a girl who was sad over a dead bird.
Wind ruffled the swan’s feathers. I didn’t know if this was the same swan from the river. I didn’t see a gray van. Just a dead swan. There were too many small coincidences, but I couldn’t see the story they told, not yet.
“Is it one of us?” Mei Lin asked, her voice cracking. “Can you tell? I can’t tell.”
I started counting off cousins: Rosalita who looked furious, several of the younger cousins. Ansuya prowled around the swan looking deadly. Story was trying not to weep. A couple of teachers pushed through, alerted by the strangely quiet and still students. People murmured about pranks, or cars going too fast, or glass windows that confused birds in flight.
“Where’s your brother?” I asked Pierce, even though Jackson hadn’t mentioned swans since I’d shot him. Liv wasn’t here, either. I couldn’t tell if there were other Renards in the crowd.
“Home,” he replied. “He stayed behind to help Nana hunt for winter meat.”
I wanted to ask if they hunted swans. I’d never asked before and Pierce had never told me. I knew most of what they ate was a result of his grandmother’s ability to take down deer and wild turkey. His part-time work at the café was hardly enough to pay bills and feed a family of four. Not to mention his book habit, but he mostly went to libraries and used book stores.
“Don’t touch it,” Ms. Pritchard snapped at a boy. He snatched his hand back. “It might’ve been sick.”
It could be someone I knew, someone I loved. I counted cousins again to reassure myself.
“They were tagging and treating swans last week,” she continued to another teacher. I looked at Pierce. He raised an eyebrow. I really wanted to believe these coincidences were adding up to something that had nothing to do with us after all.
“Everyone, back inside,” Ms. Pritchard said, pointing at the school. “Cafeteria, now. You, too, Rosalita.”
Rosalita was as still as the swan. She couldn’t look away. I nudged her softly. “Rosa, come on.” Tears trembled on the edge of her lashes. “Keep it together,” I said, using Aisha’s favorite training phrase.
Aside from “everyone is trying to kill you,” of course.
That one seemed a little obvious.
Pierce
I was going to ruin everything.
And I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.
Ana
Pierce came over before the dance. He was jumpy and distracted, pacing my tiny bedroom like he was a wolf in a cage. I, on the other hand, was so excited to finally be going out with Edward that I practically sparkled inside. I changed in Dad’s studio, careful not to get paint on my dress. This would probably be the only item in my entire wardrobe that didn’t have paint or dirt from the garden on it. I felt a little odd in it, as if too much of me was showing in the wrong places.
“I look stupid, don’t I?” I asked, practically colliding with Pierce who was basically marching between my closet and the end of my bed. I tugged on the neckline of the dress. “I don’t have the boobs for strapless. What if it falls off?”
Pierce blinked at me. I grimaced, turning to look at myself in the mirror. “That bad?” It was red with a type of tutu material poking out from under the short hem. Mei Lin had lent it to me, promising I would not look stupid. I wasn’t sure if she’d lied. She was a lot perkier than me. She could pull off a tutu. “I wish I could wear my overalls to the dance.” Or even my white eyelet dress for the moon dancing, but it was forbidden.
“So wear them,” he said. His voice was hoarse. I wondered if he needed any of my honey-Echinacea tea blend.
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh right. Hi Edward, nice tie, I’m just going to wear these overalls and maybe some hay in my hair. And here, hold my banjo.” Pierce looked away from me, then back again. His gaze continued to bounce all over the place. “Did you drink all of the coffee at work again?”
?
??No, I’m fine.”
“Well, get out of my way then, I want to see if it’s too cold outside for this tiny froufrou dress.” He yanked open the sliding glass door overlooking the back garden. I brushed past him and he jerked back as though my dress was composed entirely of spiders. “What is with you?” I asked, partly amused and partly exasperated. It was a little chilly, but not too bad. I was pretty sure I could pull off my leather jacket with the dress. It didn’t look like it was going to rain, either. I looked up, tracing constellations out of habit.
“Orion.” Pierce pointed at a group of stars, three of which formed a line like a belt. Orion’s head was shaped like a triangle. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve never sung like you did today. Not like that.” He started to pace again. “Even when you healed my cuts.”
“This was more than a cut. But it didn’t do the poor swan any good, though, did it?” I made a face. “Just think what I’ll be able to do when I finally get my cloak.” I thought of dancing with Edward, of the way he smiled at me. “Maybe tonight.”
Pierce stopped abruptly, turning to look at me. “Ana, I love you.”
“I love you, too, Pierce,” I returned easily.
He made a sound of frustration then advanced so quickly I took a step back. I bumped into the side of the house. “No,” he said very clearly. “I love you.”
Everything stopped then sped up. The stars were miniature spotlights aimed at every detail of my expression. Pierce was in shadow but his eyes glittered. “Pierce, this is because of the song spell,” I told him softly, even as part of me tingled when he said it. It was like a comet in my belly, leaving a trail of sparks. I ignored it. Firmly. “Magic sometimes wanders. But it’s not real.” I was reminding myself as much as Pierce. I wouldn’t risk our friendship to the uncertainties of magic. He’d thank me later, when it wore off.
He shook his head. “I felt like this before tonight. The magic only gave me the courage to finally recognize it.” He stepped closer. “I hate seeing you with Edward.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I knew the magic was twisting things inside his mind. “Pierce, swan magic can be really powerful. It makes people love us just enough to protect us, just enough to befuddle them. I’m so sorry you got caught in the song.” Even though it had been a healing song. I wasn’t sure why he was reacting this way. Mind you, my cupcake spell hadn’t worked, either. Maybe I just wasn’t very good at this.
“You’re really not going to believe me, are you?”
I forced a smile. “You’re going to laugh at this tomorrow.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up, but his eyes were solemn, intense. “May as well make it worth our while then,” he said, wrapping his hand over the back of my neck and pulling me into a kiss.
Startled, my mouth opened under his as if I was under the same spell. I could blame it on being taken by surprise if I wanted to, but the kiss burned through everything until it was just the two of us in the dark. Like that comet I’d apparently swallowed, pulling us in its wake. His thumb stroked along the length of my jaw. Our tongues touched and I felt it everywhere. Heat curled languidly in my chest, tingled in my belly. The parts of me that weren’t touching him ceased to exist. He kissed me as though he’d been thinking about this very moment for as long as we’d known each other. As though he was the sea, returning over and over again to the shore.
When he pulled away, his hands were still in my hair. I was gasping. My mouth had forgotten it was made for breathing, not just kissing.
“If that’s all I get,” he said quietly, his lips barely brushing mine as he spoke, “then I’ll make it be enough. But I had to try to make you understand.”
He walked away without another word, without even glancing over his shoulder at me. I stayed where I was, the wall propping me up because my knees were surprisingly unsteady.
Pierce had kissed me because of the magic.
But why had I kissed him back?
A few hours later, Pierce was on his way back to drive me to the dance.
Because things weren’t awkward enough.
Edward would never be able to find the farm through the shield spell, and I could have gone in the family van, but Pierce insisted. He’d already said he’d drive me, and now he was trying to prove things weren’t that awkward.
And I was trying to pretend the kiss hadn’t affected me.
Epic fail.
How were you supposed to forget a kiss like that? Especially since it was so unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated liking it. Or wondering who he’d been practicing with to get that good. It better not be Liv.
I walked down the driveway to wait for him at the gate. I was already glad I’d traded Mei Lin’s heels for my converse sneakers. The dress was enough to deal with. One little breeze and I was practically showing my butt to the world. How did girls wear stuff like this all of the time and get anything done? Of course, most girls didn’t accidentally call the wind up when they hummed. I was already dreaming of the comfort of my jeans, even though I was thrilled Mei Lin had lent me the dress.
Green eyes glinted at me from inside a wire cage on the side of the lane.
“No.” I stopped in my tracks. “Hell, no. This is not happening.”
The fox pressed against the bars, fur bristling. He yelped and growled when he saw me. I crept closer, moving slowly. He eyed me, his panic and fear shaking the cage. Who had trapped a fox on our property? And so close to the road? That was taking the feud to truly epically stupid proportions. Someone might have literally invited a Renard into our shielded hidden farm. There was no logic to it.
And if I showed up to the dance stinking of fox piss I was going to be so very, very angry.
“I’m going to let you out,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. Because I was feeling quite the opposite. “And I refuse to take this as a sign for the rest of the night.”
I could go back to the house and figure out who had done this, or I could take care of it. Because there was no way for this to go but badly. It would only feed the feud, bloating it on more violence and relentless retribution. They attacked us, we attacked them. It had to stop.
And it would stop right now so I could go on my date and have a lovely normal time, after kissing another boy.
At least they’d used a live cage trap. Liv’s brother had already accused us of maiming them with claw leg traps. The thought nauseated me.
I reached for the cage, but the fox growled and attacked the metal, teeth glistening. I snatched my hand back nervously. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you? You’re definitely a Renard.”
There was a handle on the top of the cage and it took a surprising amount of courage to reach over and grab it. I curved myself over it so the fox couldn’t scratch or bite at me. It was an awkward way to maneuver it and it was heavier than it looked. By the time I’d dragged it out to the road, I was sweating and cranky.
Pierce rolled up in his red truck just as I was catching my breath. He poked his head out of the window. “Do I even want to know?”
“Getting ready for a date.” I blew a lock of damp hair off my face. “Isn’t this how it’s done?”
He hopped out, eyeing the cage warily. “Renard?”
“I don’t know. There’s not enough room for it to shapeshift in there. Help me get it into the bed of the truck.”
“And what are we doing with it, exactly?”
“It’s my new pet. I’m taking it to the dance,” I replied drily. “I’m letting it go, what do you think?”
“Says the girl raised on blood feuds, with a fox in a cage.”
“Just help me. I can’t release it here. It’s too close to the house.”
He hauled the cage up and the fox stiffened, watching him quietly. There was no snarling or biting. I took a closer look, wondering if it was Liv, but I couldn’t tell. Pierce pulled over on the edge of town and took the cage out. The fox was breathing heavily. I felt sorry for it, if it was just a regular fox. If it
was a Renard… I still felt sorry for it, I realized.
Not sorry enough to get bitten, though.
“We need a long branch,” I said. “Something to open the door without being close enough for it to attack.”
“Rabies?” Pierce asked. “Or…magic rabies? Is there really such a thing?” He shuddered. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
I momentarily enjoyed the image of Liv with fleas.
He tugged a long branch off a maple tree as I hopped up into the truck bed. He vaulted in beside me. I couldn’t help but replay the kiss for a moment. A short moment. Okay, long moment. Damn it, why couldn’t he have been a bad kisser?
I leaned over, trying to hook the door with the end of my branch. I felt like I was wielding a really long uncooperative magic wand. Poorly.
“You are terrible at that,” Pierce said, amused.
“I know how to use a spear though,” I muttered. “You try.”
Of course he got it hooked on the first try and lifted the gate. The fox froze for a moment, nose working furiously. There was a flash of green eyes, the rattle of metal, and then he took off into the undergrowth.
“Remember this, you mangy beast,” I called after it. “I let you go.”
When we got back in Pierce’s truck and there was no caged fox to use as a distraction, a strange sort of silence settled between us.
I pulled a copy of Ulysses out from under my leg, where it was threatening to cut off all circulation. “You only read James Joyce when you’re upset.”
“You don’t have to freak out,” he said. “I’m not going to try to convince you to like me in that way. You do or you don’t.”
“But what if it’s not that simple?”
“In the end, it’s always that simple.” He flipped on the radio. “Let’s talk about something else.”
In the end we didn’t talk at all. I spent most of my time trying not to replay the kiss.
“Have fun,” he said when I hopped out of the cab. He drove away before I could reply. I was feeling a nauseating mixture of worry, anxiety, and excitement as I walked into the school. The dance was like a miniature contained explosion within the dim, silent halls. Music and lights spilled out at the edges.