Ferrous (Fae's Folly Book 1) Read online

  I rise and climb onto the bar chair across her. “First things first. Have we ordered pizza yet?” She nods. “The usual?”

  Another nod. “The usual.”

  I blow her a kiss. “You are a beautiful, perfect angel and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

  She rests her elbows on the table. “Tell me what my costume’s from and I’ll deem you worthy.”

  I have no clue what her costume is from. It’s rare that I do. We didn’t watch a lot of TV growing up. I remember a lot of books… and flashcards. Most of my TV and film exposure occurred during visits with my grandfather or when I lived with him later on. Since then, I’ve done my best to catch up on the world, but some gaps remain.

  “How about I buy the next round instead?”

  “Fine.” She rolls her eyes, but agrees to my peace offering. “I’m Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, by the way.”

  I blink. “Right, totally my second guess. Whoever she is, you did a beautiful job. Was it worth having gold hands for a week?”

  She snorts and looks over her shoulder, where a group of guys have been failing to sneak glances her way. They’re nailing the glancing part, but not so much the sneaky bit. “100%.” She flashes me a conspiratorial grin before uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “But tonight’s about you, my litt—”

  “Speaking of that,” I interrupt. “I found out Balcony Bae’s name today.”

  Clara uncrosses her legs and braces a hand on either side of the table. Her beer nearly topples over, but her eyes stay glued to mine. “Go on.”

  I rescue her beer. “You’re scary sometimes.” Holding a napkin I’m about to twist to shreds, I begin the account.

  She predictably squeals when I describe the dramatic hood reveal. “Two balcony baes for the price of one?”

  Now it’s my turn to snort. “That one’s name is Bash, and I’m pretty sure his biceps are bigger than all my muscles put together.”

  Clara dismisses me with her hand. “I’ll take him if you don’t want him!”

  I unfold the napkin and smooth it over the table. “I…I didn’t say that.” She cackles. “Anyway, they said some really weird stuff. Like they were practicing for a Halloween skit or something.”

  Clara tilts her head to the side in consideration while polishing off the last wing. “Well, maybe they were. If your descriptions are accurate, they could be aspiring actors.” She licks her fingers. “I’m so jelly!”

  I consider Bash’s costume and how detailed it looked from afar. Most people living on our block can’t afford something like that for a one-off like Halloween. Looking at the surrounding people, I know it’s true. And there are multiple small theaters nearby. She might be right.

  Clara finishes her beer with a contented sigh and my chest burns with longing. I forgot to order one. Swiping her glass, I make for the bar as she’s hitting her mouth with a wet-nap.

  “Same ol’?”

  “Please!”

  I get lost in the menu. It’s been so long that the entire selection feels new. I’ve barely decided when the group in front of me clears the bar. My pulse spikes for a hot second handing over my credit card, but it feels a lot better returning with two icy beers in hand. I try to remind myself that hours ago I was picking regurgitated carrots out of my hair and I thoroughly deserve this.

  When I return to the table, there’s a greasy pizza in place of Clara’s wings. She finishes her conversation with a suitor and he respectfully dips out. Thank Jesus, because he need not see what’s about to go down. My body is ready. We clink our beers together to celebrate the masterpiece before us, and then we get dirty. Well, I get dirty. Clara, full-up on wings, nibbles her way through one piece and declares herself full. I’m only two and a half slices in, myself. Leaning back, I study the mountain of food remaining, feeling like the crop top is making me choose between two lovers. At what point does the food baby start to show? There’s still so many beers to try. Would it be better to quit with the food while I’m ahead?

  Clara leans forward on her elbows, chin resting on her thumbs. Her lips press into an impish smirk. I know what’s coming. Cupid of House Stormborn or whatever has arrived.

  I lean forward, mirroring her pose. “Yes?”

  She bats her eyelashes. “I know a way we could get rid of the rest of that pizza.”

  “Oh?” I say ever so sweetly. “Do tell.”

  “I have observed many hungry-looking men tonight. Why don’t we feed a few?”

  I pretend to throw up a little in my mouth, but I owe her some fun. “Alright,” I say after a healthy gulp of beer. “You choose this time. But no more dreadlocks!”

  Needing no further permission, Clara scans the room for eligible bachelors. My leg decides it needs to bounce, and she shoots me a warning with her eyes. I mouth an apology and try to quench my nerves with more beer. Finding little, I escape to the bar for refills. It’ll be easier if I let Clara reel them in on her own, anyway. Honed to perfection through years of cosplay meet-and-greets, few can ignore Clara’s come-hither look.

  3

  Mallory

  Swiping my credit card the second time is cake in comparison to the nerves that foment in anticipation of what awaits at the table. Meeting people at bars isn’t something I do. Between school and looking after my grandfather, I either met someone tangentially or didn’t meet them at all. Now I’m playing catchup to learn the unwritten rules of modern dating. Part of me hopes I’ll stumble into someone equally clueless and we’ll bumble off into the sunset. For tonight, I’ll just cross my fingers and pray I don’t zig when I should have zagged.

  Two men are with Clara when I enter her line of sight. The larger one tosses his head back in laughter. Their cloaks rival her own quality of work. Gangster recognizes gangster. She beckons me over, “Mali, I made friends!”

  My stomach flip-flops as two familiar faces turn to greet me. I am not prepared. Bash’s eyes crinkle in amusement as he lays waste to our pizza. Kai surveys me with a vigilance that betrays his polite smile. Their unexpected—yet awaited—presence stirs my heart to clobber so violently it drowns out the sounds of the crowded room. The fifteen feet between us feels like a gauntlet as the glasses threaten to slip from my grasp. Damn it, Mal. It’s just pizza and beer with a side of dicks.

  Bash raises a beer to me. “Veranda girl! Your endorsement of Tap Garden was not misguided.” He raises a slice of pizza, both that and the beer held before him as if to say, “Look what I caught.” His wide form makes the bar appear smaller, but it’s his goofy smile that fills the room.

  I near the table without falling victim to my sweaty palms. “Already double-fisting, I see. Glad I could help.” Clara’s jaw drops and she shoots me a loaded look. It’s them?! I manage a micro-nod.

  Bash’s eyes narrow, head tilting. “Double what?” I wiggle both of my beers at him. He looks down at his hands and lets loose another boisterous laugh. Kai’s shaking his head as Clara giggles.

  Kai pulls my chair from the table when I arrive, a kind gesture considering my hands are full. I peer up to thank him and almost balk. His features are striking and dynamic, details given little justice by the distance between our buildings. Glacial eyes measure me from beneath straight, dark brows. I lose my nerve, dropping my eyes to the week’s worth of stubble lining his face. Squeaking out my thanks, I set the beers down. He passes Clara hers as I crash back into my seat.

  Beer in hand, Cupid Clara takes aim. “So…how do you guys know Mallory?”

  Kai answers first. “We don’t.” Oof. And I called you my Balcony Bae.

  Bash is more generous. “But we would like to!” He extends his hand, honey-brown eyes meeting mine. “Hello, Mallory of Meadowbrook. I am Sebastian Ankerstrand, but friends call me ‘Bash.’” He says this with such sincerity that I double over in mirth mid-handshake. Meadowbrook is the name of my apartment complex, which boasts neither of its monikers. I respect the commitment to his character.

  I’m not sure if i
t’s the beer or Bash’s endearing disposition that’s responsible, but I’m compelled to play along. “And from where do you hail, Bash Ankerstrand?”

  Kai interjects. “We’re from Spokane, originally.” I guess he isn’t a method actor.

  I nod. “Right on.”

  “My aunt lives there. It looks gorgeous,” Clara says. Bash goes back to decimating the pizza.

  “I definitely prefer it to Meadowbrook,” Kai replies. I’ll give him that. His lips quirk, revealing faint dimples set low beneath the stubble. “Bash and I are driving down there tomorrow, actually.”

  Clara exhales through pursed lips, eyebrows knitted together. “That’s a long drive, isn’t it?” Kai continues, but his words don’t reach my ears. He’s reminding me of someone. I fiddle with the ring hanging from my neck. His dark brows and light eyes look a lot like my neighbor’s husky growing up, but that’s not it. This is going to bug me the rest of the night.

  “…so we have an early start tomorrow, right Bash?” Name conjured, Bash resurfaces from the pizza. He’s putting a hurting on it.

  “Aye, we’ve a long journey ahead.” He raises his glass and downs the rest. Something in his hair catches my eye and I can’t help but to edge closer.

  “Clara, do you see his prosthetics?”

  She shakes her fists in defeat. “I know! They’re flawless.” She addresses Bash. “Are they silicone or neoprene?”

  “Pardon?” Bash asks with an air of befuddlement once more.

  “Your ear prosthetics. How’d you get the seam so invisible?”

  He brushes the tip of one ear. “Ah, these ancient things?”

  “Mhmmmmm.”

  He dons the royal blue hood of his cloak and throws a finger to his lips. “It’s a family secret.”

  Clara lobs a napkin at him in protest. “Booooooo.” The napkin doesn’t travel as intended and dive-bombs in my direction. I shield my face, not realizing it’s my ale that’s in danger. Kai realized, for he seizes the napkin midair. He saved me.

  No. He saved my precious.

  I cradle the beer in appreciation. “I owe you a blood debt, sir.”

  A half-smile forms. “You must owe countless blood debts,” he deadpans. Clara snorts into her glass.

  “Mostly financial,” I lament. “I reserve blood debts for the most heroic deeds, I assure you.” I search his eyes for any inkling he’s thinking about cashing in the blood debt later on tonight.

  “Then I humbly accept your boon.” He drops eye contact and tucks some hair behind his ears before finding something on his cloak way more interesting than me.

  Looking like a no, then.

  Clara cranes her neck toward Kai. “No elf ears for you? I thought you guys were dressed the same?”

  “He won’t disclose the secret to me, either. Stubborn bastard.”

  “Hey!”

  “I think you’re more of an Aragorn type, anyway,” Clara states.

  I pound my fists onto the table. “Holy shit, that’s who he reminded me of!” I see it now in context. His lived-in hair and sage green cloak. “It was going to drive me nuts all night.”

  Kai stretches his legs, Middle-earth boots and all. With a grin that finally reaches his eyes, he pulls the cloak’s hood around his face and adopts a gravelly tone. “Not all those who wander are lost.”

  Huh?

  Clara mirrors my confusion. “Isn’t that a Shakespeare quote?”

  He removes the hood, brows furrowed. “The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter 10?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, I’ve only watched the movies.”

  The tension in his face relaxes. “Ah. There’s a poem summarizing Aragorn’s legacy in the first book. Bilbo writes it long before the movies take place—”

  “Like in The Hobbit?” Clara asks.

  He presses into his temples. “Not…quite. I think he’s a child during that time, actually. No, they meet sometime after.” Fresh out, Bash eyes Kai’s untouched beer across the table. Kai bows briefly in permission as Bash full-on Hellen Keller’s it with a snatch. He’s already sipping by the time Kai’s head resumes its natural tilt.

  My barista friend used to say that drink orders tell a lot about a person. “What did you order?”

  His lips press together as he shrugs. “I let Bash order for me, actually.”

  “I guess you got what he wanted, then.”

  Bash exaggerates the delight of his sip with a drawn-out sigh. My lips twitch.

  Kai resumes. “Anyway, Gandalf sends a letter to Frodo with the poem enclosed to confirm Strider’s true identity as Aragorn. The first line of the poem you may be familiar with. ‘All that is gold does not glitter?’”

  If Clara were on a game show, she’d be slamming the buzzer right now. “The Merchant of Venice?” Kai nods.

  “I’m more familiar with the line’s Smash Mouth appearance, myself,” I mumble.

  “That line is Shakespeare’s creation, which Tolkien seems to have adapted. The line about wandering is second, which gets lumped in with Shakespeare’s work due to proximity. The rest of the work is his own.” He turns to me. “The poem not appearing in the films probably doesn’t help, either.”

  I rearrange my hair. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to read them…”

  Bash pats my left arm. “It’s alright. He’s been meaning to watch them.”

  “What?” My voice jumps an octave. “You haven’t watched the best trilogy of our era?”

  It’s Kai who rakes a hand through his hair this time. “Neither of us have. We just—”

  Cupid Clara intercepts. “Then it’s settled. We’ll form a Fellowship of Meadowbrook movie night at Mali’s!” Ooo, she’s good. “When works for you guys?”

  Bash sucks air through his teeth.

  “No?” Clara probes.

  He lowers his head apologetically before looking to Kai. “Our trip to Spokane is Kai’s permanent homecoming, I’m afraid. He’s moving tomorrow.” I catch Clara’s look of concern in my periphery.

  Kai confirms. “I’ve been summoned to handle the family business. Bash is only here to assist.” My stomach clenches as I wilt into my seat. I was dreading this outing all week, but meeting these two has been the most pleasant turn of events. I pick at my cuticles in defeat.

  “Aw, that’s such a bummer!” Clara whines. “Well, a bummer for the Fellowship, but a good opportunity for you. What’s the family business?”

  He looks to the side, pausing before his answer. “My father runs a military boot camp of sorts. I’ll be returning as an instructor.”

  “Oh! That explains the shadow boxing and stuff!” Clara spills. This girl has the heart of a lion, but excitability of a Labrador Retriever. She’ll defend me to the death in one breath and divulge all my secrets unwittingly with the next.

  Kai arches a dark brow while Bash fights the return of his shit-eating grin by pressing a fist to his mouth. My cheeks burn, and I resent them immediately. I fold my arms before me, trying to cover the space made vulnerable by my ridiculous crop top as Clara’s eyes convey she realizes what she set into motion. I suck in a breath as if the air is laden with confidence and straighten my posture.

  Totally faking it, I cusp the back of my head with a sheepish shrug. “That would be my bad. A girl can’t help but notice when the balcony across her is occupied by a shirtless man the same time every day…”

  Bash saves me with his uproarious laughter. Thank God for Bash. “No wonder you aren’t reading books,” he rasps.

  Hand pressed to my heart, I mock injury. “You’ve got me there.” We all look to Kai, whose cheeks betray his otherwise stoic countenance. It’s adorable. And honestly, it’s refreshing not to be the shyest person at the table for once.

  He leans in. “Mallory of Meadowbrook, I’ll receive those words as your boon. Consider the blood debt resolved.” His words are smooth, but his cheeks still look like they just came in from the cold.

  I can play casual, too. “Deal,” I agree.

  Kai looks
to Bash and dips his head. Message received, Bash rises from his seat above the barren pizza platter. “Ladies, thank you for the outstanding hospitality and cheer this night. We have a lot to do before setting out tomorrow, so I’m afraid we must be going.” Clara boos again, prompting me to cover my beer on reflex.

  Bash turns to me. “I am so relieved there was more to my trip than bickering with Kai in transport. Don’t ever stop spying,” he says, pulling me in for a hug. I accept it greedily, burying my embarrassment into his chest. One intake of breath transports me to a memory so vivid I can almost feel the cool timber under my feet.

  I’m twelve and standing in the grand hall of a Japanese temple. My hair sticks to my neck, brined from the ocean fog. I don’t really hold interest for what’s inside the temple—I’m just happy for refuge from the merciless summer sun. A stick of incense burns lazily before an altar while my parents examine a set of scrolls nearby. The smoke hangs in the thick air, making me question if the punishing rays outside are the fairer alternative. But then an ocean breeze flutters in and lifts the air, taking my wrinkled nose with it.

  I haven’t thought of that family vacation in years.

  We part, and my head spins from the memories brought by the salty and smoky sandalwood that is Bash. I face my former Balcony Bae as he’s shaking out his cloak. He isn’t what I expected, which makes his premature departure all the more disappointing. Even with our hiccups.

  I school my features to suppress the caustic sensation plaguing my mind and gut. “It was lovely meeting you guys tonight. Feel free to stop by any time you’re in town.”

  “Hey, are you guys on social media?” Clara isn’t going down without a fight.

  Kai winces. “Sorry, I’m…more of an analog guy.” He addresses me. “But I’ll be sure to visit Meadowbrook if I find myself here again.”

  I force a rigid nod. “We’ll be waiting. Unless I win the lottery or something. Then I’ll be in a place with actual meadows and brooks nearby.” The four of us exchange a few more closing pleasantries before they exit the bar. Clara wraps an arm around my waist as we watch their caped figures advance down the street. The bar’s noise trickles back into my consciousness as if it were on mute the whole night and only now permitted to resume. It’s immediately too much. It’s too loud and there are far too many people. I want to go home.