Page 47 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

Not more than a mile later, Scarecrow parked the bike in front of Hubert’s Tavern & Inn. The painted letters had faded from what I had supposed to be a brilliant scarlet to muddy brown.

I wasn’t even confident that the place was still running.

What was it with Scarecrow and seedy bars?

He pulled my helmet off, “You hungry?”

My stomach answered for him, and he laughed. Taking my hand, he tucked it in his, and we approached the door. It came sprawling open, and two drunk idiots came flying out on their asses.

“If you come back, you won’t be leaving!”

The commanding tone of the bouncer had me taking a closer step into Scarecrow. He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around me.

“Hey, Steele looks like business is booming,” Scarecrow lifted a brow in amusement.

He was always amused about something. I was beginning to love that about him.

Love—that word had a very inconvenient way of popping up when I least expected it.

“Scarecrow, what are you doing out here?”

I turned to get a better look at the giant of a man when I locked eyes on his face.

All of the colors seemed to leach out of it, “El?”

His voice cracked, and his jaw hardened.

I shook my head, “No, I am her sister Indy.”

The relief was evident as his harsh features softened. The man had thick brown hair with the bluest eyes imaginable. His square cut jaw had a cleft in and when he smiled, two dimples appeared, making him seem much more accessible.

Scarecrow frowned pushing me slightly behind him, “We need a place to stay for tonight and something to eat.”

Steele grinned, “My door is always open for you Scarecrow, you know that. I am sorry, Miss Indy, for startling you. I had no idea that El had a sister, much less a twin. You are startlingly alike in image.”

I smiled at him, “Yes, we often traded places as children, causing our parents and tutors a great deal of grief.”

Scarecrow scoffed, “You are nothing like your sister. I have known you for years and have never had trouble telling you apart.”

He had surprised me. Even our parents sometimes still confused us. But as I thought back over all the time I had known Scarecrow, he was right. He had never called me by her name nor her by mine.

Steele shrugged and invited us inside, as he turned I whispered up to Scarecrow, “How?”

“Hmm?” he said absent-mindedly as his hand lingered on the small of my back.

“How can you tell my sister and I apart?”

I didn’t know why it was so crucial to me. But right at that moment, I needed to know.

Scarecrow’s cheeks pinked a little, and he scowled, “She’s not you, Indy.”

“What does that mean?”

He pressed me up against the door frame.

“It means that I don’t have the slightest desire to fuck her the moment she walks in the room. It means that I don’t dream about the sounds she makes when she is begging for my touch. I know you, Indy. I know your scent, your smiles, your insecurities, and your heart. Your sister is great, but she isn’t you.”

His minty breath mixed with mine as he pressed his forehead against mine.

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