Page 12 of Bound By Blood
"What does it look like, blood fae?"
"Good." He folded his arms, his gaze tight on her. "Because I'm not eating anything I don't watch you prepare."
"You're going to watch me prepare soup?" She raised her eyebrow even higher. "Do you think I'm going to poison you?"
"I wouldn't put it past you," he said coolly.
She found a mischievous smile pulling at her mouth as she adjusted her broad white apron. Faint soup stains across the front indicated so many pots of soup over the past few years. Most had faded from memory, but she was probably going to remember this one even without an interesting stain.
"First, if I wanted to poison you, I would probably have already done it. Second, I would never put poison in one of my soups. Cupcakes, maybe. My business doesn't revolve around them. Third, if I did decide to poison the soup, you wouldn't know until it was too late. There are far too many ingredients in here for you to know all of them, and you won't be able to follow my every move."
"You do your part, and I'll do mine."
"So does that mean you don't want me to poison you? I would appreciate clarity about what this soup is supposed to do."
His brow tweaked as if he was either offended or surprised. "No. Don't poison me. Just fix my magic. If you can."
"Well, I'll do my best. You just can't come in."
"Fine. I don't want to come into your shabby little cottage anyway." He folded his arms as he glared in at her through the window.
She pulled out her cutting board and then removed one of her favorite knives. Gesturing toward him with the blade, she shrugged. "Besides, I wouldn't even begin to know how to poison a blood fae."
"But you know how to replenish my magic with soup?"
"I said I would try to figure out a way, and I made no guarantees. Just best effort." She started slicing up the onions. "And you agreed to it."
"You sounded more confident last night." He then shook his head as he folded his arms. "Not that it matters," he muttered, casting another look at the dog.
"His name is Buttons."
He rolled his eyes. "Why? Why would you name him that?"
"You think he should have another name? What would you name him?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
He grumbled, the words indistinct.
Buttons cocked his head, then yipped at him.
"Yes, I know you are a real dog now. Stupid curse." He looked up at her then. "You do know that you'll have to feed him. Just because he is magic doesn't mean he doesn't need real food."
"Really?" She smirked. "Does he need water?"
"Yes! Have you not given him water in this heat?" He stopped short, then lifted his chin. With a sharp clearing of his throat, he continued, his tone far calmer. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"
She twitched her shoulder at him as she continued chopping. This was one of her favorite parts of making soup. The neat and even slices. She'd gotten fairly quick at this over the years.
"Maybe. But yes, set your mind at ease. I have fed him and given him water."
"And let him play?" He sounded a little more tentative.
"You know, for someone who was going to reabsorb the apparition in some way, you seem very concerned."
"If he's going to be a real dog, he should be treated like a real dog. Well, treated like a real dog who is treated well."
"Even if he's not a garm?"
He scoffed, then nodded. His arms remained folded tight over his chest. "Even if he's useless." He started to lean forward on the windowsill, then pulled back. "Oh. You changed it."
