Poison Fruit

I temporized. “Well, he’s in Poland. Outcast business.”

She sighed. “Oh, baby girl!”

“I thought you were okay with Stefan.” I was feeling a bit defensive. “Look, he’s been a strong ally. You helped him rescue me last summer! And if it wasn’t for Stefan, that Halloween debacle would have been a bloodbath.”

“I’m fine with Stefan, but I can handle myself. It’s you I worry about.” Lurine’s cornflower-blue eyes began to take on a stony basilisk stare. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be for you to consort with a ghoul?”

I kindled my mental shield between us, something I’d never done before. “Yeah. I do. Apparently, I’m drawn to dangerous things.”

Lurine’s expression was unreadable, and she held her silence long enough that I began to fear I’d crossed a line. But at last she gave me a rueful smile. “Touché.” She nodded at the shield of energy I wielded, invisible to the mundane eye, bright and shining to the eldritch. “Just tell me you don’t actually think you need that with me.”

“No, of course not.” I let it dissipate. “I just wanted to show you that I can take care of myself, too.”

“Daisy—”

“Look, Stefan knows you’ve declared me under your protection,” I said to her. “He knows you’d crush him to a pulp if he ever did anything to harm me.”

Lurine folded her arms over her baby pink Juicy Couture jacket, managing to emphasize her admittedly spectacular cleavage in the process—maybe an attempt to distract me, probably just reflex. Lurine knows perfectly well that her human bombshell form doesn’t faze me. But her real one . . . that’s something else.

Perverse, but true. What can I say? Eldritch tendencies manifest in unexpected ways.

“I don’t think he’d hurt you on purpose,” she said. “But if you send him ravening, all bets are off.”

“I know, I know!” I said. “Lurine . . . I’ve got to make my own choices. And you’ve got to decide whether you’re going to treat me like a child or a grown woman. You can’t keep doing both.”

“Oh, cupcake.” She laughed softly. “You can’t tell people how to feel. You know, I like the young woman you’ve grown into very much. You’re determined and brave and loyal. But you’ll always be that impetuous, hot-tempered hell-spawn toddler I first knew, too, and I’ll always worry about you. You’ll just have to live with it. You and your mother are the first mortals I let myself care about in a long, long time.”

It’s kind of hard to argue with a declaration like that, especially when you’re a bit misty-eyed.

“Thanks,” I said. “And I’ll be careful. I promise. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about Stefan anytime soon. Like I said, he’s off on some mysterious errand in Poland.” I strapped my messenger bag across my chest. “And I’m off hunting a Night Hag.”

“Good luck,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said again. At the door, a thought struck me, and I turned back in curiosity. “By the way, what were you and those undines singing?”

“Naiads,” Lurine corrected me. “They’re prickly little bitches, but they can sing. It was a hymn to Helios.”

“Really?” I don’t know why it surprised me. It’s not like I ever forgot what Lurine was, but I guess sometimes I lost sight of exactly what it meant, and where and when she came from.

There was a faraway look in her eyes. “Some of us try to keep the old traditions alive, Daisy. At least when we can.” Her gaze returned from the distance. “Off-season is the only time I can greet the dawn properly.”

“It was beautiful,” I said honestly. “Truly.”

“Thank you.” Lurine smiled, looking genuinely pleased. “Sorry about accidentally luring you into the lake.”

I shrugged. “Totally worth it.”

“Don’t mention it to your mother.”

“I won’t.”

      Nine

Back in my car, I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Sinclair inviting me to attend his ritual tattooing at noon today, which was perfect. Well, mostly perfect. If you wanted to talk to one of the fey, especially a nature elemental, without spending hundreds of dollars on cowslip dew, Sinclair Palmer was the man to see. He ran Pemkowet Supernatural Tours, and thanks to the generous support of the Oak King, there were almost always nature fairies along his route.

Obviously, there weren’t as many around this time of year—it’s a seasonal thing—but there were a few species hardy enough to endure the winter. Plus, it helps that nature fairies freakin’ love Sinclair.

I can’t blame them, since Sinclair’s a great guy. He’s also my ex-boyfriend. That would be the less than perfect part. Okay, it’s not like we dated that long—it was only about a month—and I’m the one who broke it off, but still.

It’s not that I regret ending things with Sinclair, but the relationship didn’t have a chance to run its natural course. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that it involves his secret twin sister, obeah magic, and a Jamaican duppy.

Anyway.

Since I had time to kill, I drove over to East Pemkowet. Realizing I was starving, I got a cheese Danish to go at the Sit’n Sip and ate it on the way to the library.