Poison Fruit - Page 89/149

“I don’t know,” I said. “Are you going to the Holiday Stroll this year?”

“Lurine and I promised to take Gus,” Mom admitted. “But I can get out of it if you think it’s too soon.”

I thought about Stefan asking if I was reluctant to be seen with him. “No, you know what? That’s fine. Let’s not make a plan to meet up or anything, but if our paths cross, so be it. Just make sure Lurine agrees to play nice,” I added.

“Oh, she’s just looking out for you, honey,” Mom said in a dismissive tone. “You know she’s fond of you.”

“Oh, I know.” I cleared my throat. “It’s just that Lurine’s idea of looking out for me can be, um, unconventional.”

We passed the threshold of Hel’s territory and I felt a profound sense of relief as the world brightened, coming alive and vital, filled with the promise of wonder and the potential for magic. I let out a sigh and wriggled in my seat, a knot of tension I hadn’t been aware of easing inside me.

“It’s always good to be home,” Mom said softly.

I glanced at her. “You feel it, too?”

She nodded. “Probably not as strongly as you, but yes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mom pulled into the alley alongside my apartment building.

“Thank you.” I leaned over to kiss her cheek. “You really, really didn’t have to do this. But I love it.”

“Good.” She smiled at me. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, and I just thought you deserved something nice for a change. Just promise me . . .” She stopped and gave her head a little shake. “Have a nice time tonight.”

“I’ll do my best.”

True to his word, Stefan arrived promptly at six o’clock to pick me up, disembarking from his car, which turned out to be a silver Lexus sedan, and waiting in the alley to hold the passenger door for me when I emerged. It was the first time we’d seen each other since Janek Król’s death, a fact I tried to ignore.

Stefan gave me an appraising look, his pupils dilating. “Good evening, Daisy. You look lovely.”

“Thanks.” I patted the messenger bag hanging from my shoulder. “The accessories don’t exactly match, but it was either this or the sword belt. I don’t like to leave dauda-dagr unattended.”

“Nor should you.” Stefan ushered me into the front seat. “Such a weapon is a grave trust.” Shutting my door, he went around the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “Are you ready?”

I found myself acutely aware of his proximity and the fact that we were in close quarters. It gave me butterflies in the pit of my stomach. “Let’s do it.”

We drove across the bridge and parked in downtown East Pemkowet, the site of the infamous Halloween parade. Tonight it was aglow with cheer, all the trees and shrubs bedecked with old-fashioned Christmas lights with the oversized bulbs in primary colors. The same carolers who had graced the tree-lighting ceremony were strolling the streets, competing with the music that spilled out of the storefronts every time a door was opened, which was frequently. There were a few tourists, but it was mostly townsfolk who streamed in and out of the stores, blocking one another’s passage as they paused to exchange pleasantries or gathered in groups on the sidewalk.

“Shall we?” Stefan offered me his arm. He’d eschewed his motorcycle leathers for a navy blue peacoat, and his longish black hair brushed the collar.

I took his arm, feeling a little self-conscious. It was a crisp, cold night, feathery snowflakes falling, but I was warm and toasty in my new coat. Scents of mulled cider and gingerbread wafted from the doors as we promenaded past them, pausing to admire the window displays.

“Are you shopping for anything in particular?” Stefan inquired in front of a boutique featuring expensive home furnishings.

“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “I can’t afford to shop here. I just like to look. And all the stores have free holiday goodies,” I added. “When I was a kid, I’d gorge on punch and Christmas cookies.”

“Ah.” Stefan smiled. “Hence the appeal.” He opened the door to the boutique. “Allow me to indulge your fond memories?”

I have to admit, the whole chivalry thing was new to me and I kind of liked it. After escorting me into the store, Stefan proceeded to the refreshments table and procured a cup of mulled cider and a couple of gingersnap cookies. He cut quite a swath, shoppers moving instinctively out of his way as they took in his unnatural pallor and sensed themselves in the presence of an unknown danger.

Okay, I kind of liked that, too.

“Here you are, my lady.” Stefan returned to offer me the cider and cookies with a courtly little bow.

I eyed him suspiciously. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all.” He smiled again, this time with dimples. “I’m enjoying myself, Daisy. It’s been a long time.”

I wanted to ask him exactly how long it had been, but I didn’t want to spoil the mood, so I took a bite of gingersnap before responding. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be ungracious. As long as we’re here, let’s check out those throw pillows,” I suggested. “No offense, but your condo could use a touch of color.”

“Thus has it ever been with women and decorative cushions,” Stefan commented. I shot him another glance and determined that this time he was teasing me. And this time, I didn’t mind it.