Page 18 of Fire in Stone

“Um, you can’t go out in public without a shirt. Not to mention, it’s March, and the weather is rather chilly here this time of year.” It was warm enough in this tiny concrete place. But outside, the spring had just begun.

He glanced down at his torso. “I don’t get cold.”

“Even if you don’t, it’s just not very appropriate to prance around in public half-naked like this.” I waved my hand in front of his chest, trying not to touch him. “No need to attract any unnecessary attention.”

We had to get him a shirt.

I gave his torso an assessing glance. Elex didn’t look bulky, just proportionally well-built. With his height, however, his proportions added size to all of him, everywhere. There was nothing in my duffel bag that would fit over all those muscles.

I yanked the hem of my t-shirt from the waistband of my skirt. It was the oversized comfy t-shirt I slept in.

“Turn around.” I rotated a finger in the air. But he just kept staring at me, unmoving.

With no time to argue, I turned my back to him and took my sleeping shirt off, then grabbed another, smaller one from my bag and put it on instead.

Facing Elex again, I handed him my sleeping shirt.

“Here. This should fit.”

He took it, stroking the soft material between his fingers. His brow furrowed, however, as he unfolded the t-shirt and held it in front of him.

It was a white t-shirt, with a picture of a gray cat standing upright and holding a pink balloon on a string in its paw. One of Elex’s eyebrows arched higher the longer he stared at it.

“It’s the largest thing I have,” I explained, fidgeting impatiently. “With those shoulders of yours, you’d burst out like the Hulk from any of my other clothes. Come on. Put it on and let’s go.”

With a slow breath that looked very much like a sigh, he pulled the t-shirt over his head, then smoothed the material down his torso. As expected, the t-shirt stretched over his shoulders precariously, threatening to pop at the seams. The cat in the picture on his wide chest suddenly looked like it should be put on a low-carb diet. And the balloon turned from a circle into a horizontal oval. But at least Elex was fully dressed now.

“Great. It works. Let’s go.” I grabbed my hoodie and my bag off the floor. “Breakfast first. Then, we’ll talk and think.”

Thinking on an empty stomach was always so much harder. Not to mention I still hadn’t had any coffee.

Five

AMBER

The S-Bann train station was already busy with morning commuters. People rushed along the open platforms to the trains that passed by every few minutes.

Here, we were far enough from the storage unit apartment for me to relax a little. No one knew me in this country. No one paid me any attention when I came out of the coffee shop across the street from the train tracks and carried two cups of coffee and a paper bag to the bench where Elex was waiting for me.

It was a sunny morning, but the early spring air remained crisp. I felt the chill on my bare legs and huddled into my fleece hoodie. In my short-sleeved t-shirt, Elex wasn’t dressed for the weather, but he didn’t seem affected by the cold. Even the skin on his bare arms remained goosebump-free. It also didn’t glow in the sunlight as much as it did back at the apartment. Only a light shimmer would run over it occasionally when he moved.

Passersby still stared at him, but probably mostly because of his size and good looks, not because they suspected he was a magical being from another world.

“Breakfast.” I handed him one of the ham and cheese sandwiches I’d bought at the coffee shop, then put a paper cup on the bench between us. “And here is your coffee, black as you wanted.”

Elex placed the wrapped sandwich on top of his thigh, then lifted the coffee cup and took a sip. His lips curled before flattening into a straight line as he sat the cup down.

“What? You don’t like it?” The coffee was really good here, in my opinion, buthis highnessclearly thought otherwise.

He schooled his features into a neutral expression. “It’ll do.”

I shrugged, digging into my breakfast. At least, he held back from complaining or ‘questioning my choices’ as he did with the storage apartment before.

He peeled some of the paper wrapper away from the sandwich, then inspected the sandwich layer by layer.

Irritation tugged at me again. I felt like snapping,“Sorry, I couldn’t provide you with gourmet food and top accommodations.”But I managed to hold on to a few shreds of my patience.

“Is something wrong with the food?” I asked, instead, when he sniffed the croissant that the sandwich was made with.

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