Page 19 of Bound By Blood
"You better not. We have a deal—" He lifted his hands. "I mean a trade."
"Good man." She poured the water into the pot. "I'm glad you're learning."
"Hard not to," he grumbled.
"Are there any ingredients that would definitely help restore your magic? Anything else you've thought of?"
Wincing, he shrugged. "I never really did the cooking for that. Just the eating. So I don't know."
"Well…we'll find the answer soon, I'm sure. It's going to be a little later tonight before it's done. I got distracted. I'm sorry about that."
He grunted in response and started to lean on the windowsill, then pulled back. "It happens. What were you reading?"
"I was reading about food and magic. Can blood fae smell the magic of other races?"
Shrugging, he crinkled his nose as if testing the air. "Is there something I should be smelling?"
"No, I don't think so. I was just curious. You said you were unwanted last night. Is someone looking for you?"
He managed a small laugh as he braced his hands against his periwinkle sash. "Not with my luck."
"Is that good luck or bad?" She transferred the soaked beans to the pot.
His smile faded. "Bad these days. More or less. But it has its benefits. If no one is looking for you, no one can find you, good or bad. And that's good ultimately. So you could say my luck is actually good then."
He didn't sound convinced.
She set the cast iron skillet on the stovetop and placed three strips of bacon in it. Whoever Traelan was looking for—whatever reason Traelan was looking for a blood fae—it couldn't be Ryul. Despite his fine clothes and beautiful lavender hair, he looked almost dejected out there. Practically harmless despite his size. He didn't even have prominent fangs. Or really any at all. Not that she could see.
That was strange.
She sliced up the onion, mulling this over. "Do you like traveling alone then?"
"I don't usually. But…for now, it is what it is. After my magic is restored, I won't have to worry about it. Though…" His brow knit with further consternation.
"Though what?"
He shook his head. "It's nothing. Just—I don't know that even if my magic is restored whether I will know what to do. What the next step is."
"The next step for what?"
Finding his family maybe? She stopped short of asking that, not wanting to wound him.
He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Everything," he mumbled. Sighing, he shook his head. "But for now, soup. What kind did you say you were making tonight? Something with beans?"
"White bean with pork and thyme. It has garlic in it too. And I'll add some other spices for good measure."
"How did Buttons do today?"
"Very well. He's quiet when there are customers, so I don't have to worry about him drawing attention. And he doesn't seem to mind the heat. Would you like something to drink? I can offer you water or milk."
"I'm all right." He managed a small but crooked smile. "Your day was good then?"
"Good enough." She almost laughed. Were they really just going to talk about their days? Maybe that wasn't a terrible thing. "What about yours?"
"Hmmm. Can't leave during the day, so it is what it is. Do you really like making soup? I imagine you meet a lot of people out here."
"A fair number," she said. Turning, she picked up a stool and passed it to him through the window. "Here. You can sit on this if you want to. Or, if you don't want to, set it aside. Either way. Doesn't matter to me."
