Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Agreed,” Austin responded. “They also need to look more like actual sunflowers. Helluva concoction, though.”
“Helluva concoction,” Tristan agreed.
The rest of the team wandered toward us, and it turned out Edgar did plan to hang around indefinitely to watch his flowers. I wasn’t sure if that was to protect fair goers, or because he just wanted to see people’s reactions to his display. Either way, I told him he could stay so long as he didn’t get arrested or caught using magic, and he promised to call if something went wrong with the magic containing those flowers.
One thing was for sure, Edgar would not be participating in any more week-long flower competitions in non-magical areas, so he’d better soak it up.
SEVEN
Nessa
An hour and a half or so after the hot mess of the flower show, Nessa jogged out the front door of Ivy House, toward the car, wanting to grab her notepad. On the steps, she stutter-stopped as she caught sight of a large shape sitting by himself, looking out at the empty street.
A too-small T-shirt stretched across Tristan’s mighty shoulders, the seams straining in their fight to stay together. Holes had been cut out for his wings, and the arm holes pulled tight around his biceps. Austin was a large dude, but he didn’t have the height or breadth of this massive gargoyle-monster.
“Hey,” she said, slowing down to stand beside him. “How’s it going? I love your baby doll T.”
He didn’t glance up, and after a moment, it became clear he didn’t plan on responding.
Confused because he rarely missed a chance to tease or be teased by her, she sat down beside him. Elbows on her knees, she looked out at the street with him. Nothing remotely interesting to look at other than a car backing out of a driveway. Niamh was the only one who habitually sat out on her porch in this neighborhood, and she’d removed herself to Austin’s pub after they’d gotten back from the fair. She was largely being blamed for the whole fiasco, including the embarrassing display of that statue and the various little gargoyles perched in the exhibit.
Nessa started chuckling. She couldn’t help it. That flower show had been so aggressively out of the range of normal behavior that if they’d invited mages to witness it, the mages would’ve all thought they’d be murdered in some gruesome way in that pavilion. That’s how much it would have unsettled them.
Actually, that was an amazing idea. After the fair, that statue needed to ride again!
“Just taking in the day, huh?” Nessa asked, calming down a little to match his apparently somber mood.
“Taking a break.”
“Ah.” She nodded and let silence linger for a moment. “Mr. Tom made some sandwiches. Did you get one?”
“No.”
She nodded again, allowing the silence to stretch this time, wondering if he needed to talk. Or maybe needed someone else to talk. He was hard to read.
“I had one,” she said, monitoring him out of the corner of her eye to see if he tensed in annoyance. “They were a little dry because Mr. Tom ran out of mayonnaise. He had to use butter instead. He’d said as much when I first entered the kitchen, but Ulric and Jasper came in late. So on the sly, I asked Ulric—very seriously, of course—if Niamh had dropped off the sandwiches because they didn’t seem like Mr. Tom’s. He, of course, asked Jasper about it, who blurted it out because that’s what he does.” She started laughing again. “You should have seen how indignant Mr. Tom got!”
He turned his head to look at her.
His eyes glowed in that way they did, like embers in a dark night. His gaze roamed her face slowly, taking her in. It didn’t seem sexual, though. His notice didn’t stop on her lips or dip down to her body. Instead, he focused on her eyes, his look deep and soul-searching.
She leaned forward and rested her cheek on her arms, looking back at him. “Do you want a sandwich? I can go get you one. He made…a ridiculous amount of them. I have no idea why. I think he’s a little shaken up about Edgar.”
“Why?” Tristan whispered.
“Well…” She straightened up again, trying to remember Ulric’s gossip. He’d somehow gotten it from Patty, which was insane because they’d only been home a half hour and Patty hadn’t even gone to the fair. Nessa had no idea how she’d pieced it all together so quickly. The woman was a marvel.
“I guess before all of this,” she said, “Mr. Tom kinda looked after Edgar and made sure he didn’t get into any trouble. Before Jessie, I mean. Then Jessie came, and Mr. Tom’s priorities shifted. He still mostly kept track of Edgar, to make sure he didn’t stray too incredibly far from…reality, we’ll say, but lately there has been so much going on that he kinda lost sight of him. First there was the gnome invasion and now the killer flowers. I guess Mr. Tom feels slightly responsible. It seems that Edgar isn’t one to let out of your sights for long. He’s surprised many an enemy, actually. He’s bonkers but incredibly wily in a pinch.”