“Laurel? Laurel, are you all right?”
Laurel slumped back into her chair and brought her fingers to her lips.
“Laurel, I—”
“I asked you not to.” Laurel could tell that her tone was flat. Distant. But her mind was reeling. She knew she should be furious, but Tamani’s presence barely registered at all, blocked out by the sensations that had assaulted her mind.
“You weren’t going to do it. I had to at least try. I didn’t mean anything by it—”
“Yes, you did,” Laurel said. Research was a convenient excuse, but Tamani had seen an opportunity and taken it. Fortunately for him, it had worked. Sort of. She looked up, numbly, at Tamani. Gradually it dawned on her that he had no idea what just happened.
“You want me to apologize? I will, if it’s that important to you. I’m—”
Laurel put one finger to his lips, silencing him. At the touch of him the overwhelming flow of information didn’t return, but the images were fresh in her memory. Is that how it always feels, for the other Falls? she wondered. Or was that a fluke?
Her expression must have been perplexing, because Tamani stepped backward, out of Laurel’s reach, and held his hands up, palms out, pleading. “Look, I just thought—”
“Shut up,” Laurel said. Her tone was still flat, but she wasn’t feeling quite so numb anymore. “We’ll deal with that later. When you kissed me, I got all these . . . ideas. For potions I’ve never heard of.” She thought of the way the word poison had invaded her mind. “I think maybe they’re forbidden.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been doing it wrong, Tamani. I don’t need to touch you. I might need to test my potions on you, assuming I find the right plants, but touching you won’t tell me how to make potions for you.”
It took him a moment to process what she was saying. “What did it tell you, Laurel?”
“It told me how to make potions from you.”
“Holy Hecate, petals, branches, and breath,” Tamani swore, his face lined with concern. “You can do that?”
“With study and practice,” Laurel said quietly. How many times had Yeardley spoken those words to her? “I . . . I don’t think that was something I was supposed to know about,” she said softly. “I don’t know why.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Surely the other Falls know?”
“I don’t know. Nobody’s ever said anything. Why . . .” She was having trouble forming a coherent thought. Who in their right mind would think to use other fae as ingredients? “Why didn’t that happen before?” she finally demanded. “It’s not like I haven’t . . . kissed you before.”
Tamani’s grin was a little pained now. “Um, I may have bitten down on my tongue pretty hard just before I kissed you.”
Laurel’s thoughts jerked to a stop. “That’s disgusting!”
“Hey,” Tamani said with a shrug, “you said you cut things open and taste them, and I knew you weren’t going to try either of those things on your own.”
He was right. Clearly it had made a difference. Casually touching him—or even kissing—wasn’t enough. And yet . . .
“You should probably go,” Laurel said sternly. The numbness was fading. Tamani had kissed her! Without permission. Again! She knew she should be furious, but somehow anger couldn’t pierce the shock she felt at her new discovery.
“If it makes you feel better, it really hurt,” Tamani admitted, his jaw at a funny angle.
“I’m sorry. And at least this time you didn’t do it while David was watching,” Laurel added. “But you shouldn’t have done it at all.”
Tamani simply nodded before turning and silently exiting the room.
As he left, Laurel brought her hand once more to her lips and lost herself in thought. Not thoughts of Tamani, for once. Thoughts of potions, powders, and poisons she somehow knew she was never supposed to learn.
Chapter Thirteen
THERE WERE FLOWERS IN LAUREL’S LOCKER ON MONDAY. Not big flashy roses. Just hand-picked wild ones tied with a ribbon, which was how she knew they were from David. He wasn’t the kind to make a big deal out of gifts—drawing more attention to himself than to the sentiment.
Which was why she found the jealous, possessive David so perplexing.
“I’m sorry,” David said, stepping quietly up behind her.
Laurel looked down at the flowers, but said nothing.
“I was totally out of line. I freaked out.” He leaned his back against his locker and ran his hands through his hair. “I just don’t like him being here. I haven’t from the beginning. I’ve tried to hide it and deal with it, and I guess I snapped last week.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Laurel said, avoiding his eyes as she stacked books in her locker.
“I know,” David said. “That’s what I’m trying to say and apparently failing. It’s not your problem, it’s mine.” He turned to her now, his blue eyes earnest. “It’s just that I know what he wants, and I don’t want him to have it. Trust me,” he added, trying to laugh away the tension, “if you had a girlfriend as cool as mine you would turn into a freak at the thought of losing her too.”
“I had a boyfriend as cool as your girlfriend,” Laurel said, not turning around.
“I’ll do better,” David said, leaning against his locker now so he could see her face. “I promise.”
Laurel slumped back into her chair and brought her fingers to her lips.
“Laurel, I—”
“I asked you not to.” Laurel could tell that her tone was flat. Distant. But her mind was reeling. She knew she should be furious, but Tamani’s presence barely registered at all, blocked out by the sensations that had assaulted her mind.
“You weren’t going to do it. I had to at least try. I didn’t mean anything by it—”
“Yes, you did,” Laurel said. Research was a convenient excuse, but Tamani had seen an opportunity and taken it. Fortunately for him, it had worked. Sort of. She looked up, numbly, at Tamani. Gradually it dawned on her that he had no idea what just happened.
“You want me to apologize? I will, if it’s that important to you. I’m—”
Laurel put one finger to his lips, silencing him. At the touch of him the overwhelming flow of information didn’t return, but the images were fresh in her memory. Is that how it always feels, for the other Falls? she wondered. Or was that a fluke?
Her expression must have been perplexing, because Tamani stepped backward, out of Laurel’s reach, and held his hands up, palms out, pleading. “Look, I just thought—”
“Shut up,” Laurel said. Her tone was still flat, but she wasn’t feeling quite so numb anymore. “We’ll deal with that later. When you kissed me, I got all these . . . ideas. For potions I’ve never heard of.” She thought of the way the word poison had invaded her mind. “I think maybe they’re forbidden.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been doing it wrong, Tamani. I don’t need to touch you. I might need to test my potions on you, assuming I find the right plants, but touching you won’t tell me how to make potions for you.”
It took him a moment to process what she was saying. “What did it tell you, Laurel?”
“It told me how to make potions from you.”
“Holy Hecate, petals, branches, and breath,” Tamani swore, his face lined with concern. “You can do that?”
“With study and practice,” Laurel said quietly. How many times had Yeardley spoken those words to her? “I . . . I don’t think that was something I was supposed to know about,” she said softly. “I don’t know why.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Surely the other Falls know?”
“I don’t know. Nobody’s ever said anything. Why . . .” She was having trouble forming a coherent thought. Who in their right mind would think to use other fae as ingredients? “Why didn’t that happen before?” she finally demanded. “It’s not like I haven’t . . . kissed you before.”
Tamani’s grin was a little pained now. “Um, I may have bitten down on my tongue pretty hard just before I kissed you.”
Laurel’s thoughts jerked to a stop. “That’s disgusting!”
“Hey,” Tamani said with a shrug, “you said you cut things open and taste them, and I knew you weren’t going to try either of those things on your own.”
He was right. Clearly it had made a difference. Casually touching him—or even kissing—wasn’t enough. And yet . . .
“You should probably go,” Laurel said sternly. The numbness was fading. Tamani had kissed her! Without permission. Again! She knew she should be furious, but somehow anger couldn’t pierce the shock she felt at her new discovery.
“If it makes you feel better, it really hurt,” Tamani admitted, his jaw at a funny angle.
“I’m sorry. And at least this time you didn’t do it while David was watching,” Laurel added. “But you shouldn’t have done it at all.”
Tamani simply nodded before turning and silently exiting the room.
As he left, Laurel brought her hand once more to her lips and lost herself in thought. Not thoughts of Tamani, for once. Thoughts of potions, powders, and poisons she somehow knew she was never supposed to learn.
Chapter Thirteen
THERE WERE FLOWERS IN LAUREL’S LOCKER ON MONDAY. Not big flashy roses. Just hand-picked wild ones tied with a ribbon, which was how she knew they were from David. He wasn’t the kind to make a big deal out of gifts—drawing more attention to himself than to the sentiment.
Which was why she found the jealous, possessive David so perplexing.
“I’m sorry,” David said, stepping quietly up behind her.
Laurel looked down at the flowers, but said nothing.
“I was totally out of line. I freaked out.” He leaned his back against his locker and ran his hands through his hair. “I just don’t like him being here. I haven’t from the beginning. I’ve tried to hide it and deal with it, and I guess I snapped last week.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Laurel said, avoiding his eyes as she stacked books in her locker.
“I know,” David said. “That’s what I’m trying to say and apparently failing. It’s not your problem, it’s mine.” He turned to her now, his blue eyes earnest. “It’s just that I know what he wants, and I don’t want him to have it. Trust me,” he added, trying to laugh away the tension, “if you had a girlfriend as cool as mine you would turn into a freak at the thought of losing her too.”
“I had a boyfriend as cool as your girlfriend,” Laurel said, not turning around.
“I’ll do better,” David said, leaning against his locker now so he could see her face. “I promise.”
