Page 93 of My Queendom for a Horse

“That’s the problem,” I practically hiss. “You’re not nearly shy enough. I have a boyfriend—”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve heard you dance around the word. And I’ve heard him say ‘I love you’ a few times without a response from you. If I’m not mistaken, the two of you haven’t—”

I throw my hand out, palm toward him. “Stop.”

“Look, I need to explain a few things.” He clears his throat. “I have clothes on, now. You can turn around.”

I do, but I really shouldn’t have. “Trousers are not the same as clothes,” I say as grumpily as I can muster. But I don’t turn back around. I can’t help staring as much as I can. After all, starting tomorrow, I won’t be able to see all that rich, golden skin. Those rippling muscles. The swollen shoulders and burly arms.

I don’t even have any photos of him. The thought makes me kind of sad, but taking any now would be beyond obvious.

He clears his throat again. “You okay?”

I snap my eyes up to meet his. “Your time is ticking.”

“Ah, yes.” He snorts, and it sounds just like when Obsidian does it. “First off, I just want to say that, while you are angry with me for things like biting your dumb wannabe boyfriend, consider the things I could have done and didn’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“I was in horse form, but I was standing right next to you. I could have leaned against your arm, and while we were in contact, I could have sucked him down into the earth, for instance.”

My jaw drops.

“I didn’t do that,” he says. “Nor did I use my powers to prematurely age him.”

I blink.

“We haven’t really gone over what I can do, but I can accelerate the growth process of things like plants. . .and people. It’s tied to my ability to heal, but it also means I could have done some real damage. I’d like you to at least acknowledge that I exercised some restraint.”

I think about the men he buried alive, and I want to argue that leaving a huge bruise on Sean’s arm isn’t really exercising restraint, but to him? I think it actually may have been. “Fine,” I say. “Now, what else?”

“You asked, sort of, how I got the stones.”

I shrug.

“Care to follow me outside?” He throws up his hands. “I’ll be quick. I know, you have a date tonight, and I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”

When I arch one eyebrow, he grins sheepishly.

“Not again, anyway.”

I gesture for the door, and then I follow him out.

We don’t go far—a few dozen yards past the parking lot. Then he stops, glances around, and satisfied that no one is close, he hunches down toward the ground. Then he reaches his hand back toward me.

“What?”

He rolls his eyes. “I have to be touching you.”

“Is this some kind of trick?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. I promise.”

I shuffle just close enough for our fingers to touch, and then I stop.

He compresses his lips but doesn’t argue. His fingers take mine, and then he turns toward the ground.

He swears under his breath, and then he exhales gustily. “You know, anywhere else on earth would be better for this demonstration. I’m not sure whether it’s the vast number of people who have lived here for so long that they picked it clean, or whether it’s just not a great area for gems, but it feels like there’s nothing valuable here for miles and miles.”

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