I choked on my tart, and he thumped my back.
“Okay there, Briallen Bananatree?” he asked, a crooked grin lighting up his face.
My eyes were watering. “I’m good. How do you know I don’t hate bananas, too?”
“Well, we could put it to the test.” He reached in the box and pulled out a muffin. “It was the last one. I’d really hate to eat it alone, but if you dislike them that much…”
Sylvaine made a killer banana walnut muffin. I twitched my fingers. “Hand it over. I get the first bite since I almost choked to death.”
Gwyn complied, his grin widening.
It was a heavenly muffin. I gave him the other half and realized I hadn’t smiled this much in a while.
Not even since before Ioin had ditched me for the sylph. I’d always been on my toes, trying not to make him feel lesser than me for not being Fae in Avilion. Everyone kept humans at arm’s length, unless the human had lived here for years and was part of the fabric of life.
It felt nice to not have to pretend anymore.
“Why did you get me breakfast?” I asked. There was something about Gwyn that told me he wouldn’t be upset about a Lesser Fae questioning the motives of a Gentry. He might’ve been Unseelie, but he felt… warm and open.
He polished off the muffin and looked over, giving me a slow once-over that made me feel completely exposed. It wasn’t an entirely unwelcome feeling.
“I took the last lemon twist yesterday,” he finally said. “You were stuck with apples. Ugh.”
A snort escaped me. I was really in top form this morning. “Well, thank you. I’m sorry I walked on your toes.”
“And ran into my chest.” He looked down at the broad expanse. “You could’ve broken my ribs.”
“You should be glad you didn’t catch an elbow. They’re the most dangerous part of me.” I waved one around. I could kill a man with one of these bad boys.
“They’re pretty pointy, yeah.” Gwyn scooted the box onto the wall between us. “But somehow I don’t think your elbows are the most dangerous part of you.”
He was looking at my mouth when he said it. I was convinced I was halfway to becoming a tomato by now, my face flaming.
I looked down at the box, at the street, anywhere but at those dancing eyes. “Right. I’ve also been told my head’s as hard as a brick, so you should watch out for that, too.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Was it my imagination, or had his deep voice gotten… silkier? “If I ever run into your face, I’ll do it gently.”
When I looked up, his grin was wider than ever.
“You’re a bad man, Gwyn,” I told him, but it was impossible to hold back my own smirk.
“But you’re smiling.” He raised an eyebrow. “So how bad am I, really?”
I glanced at his arm, and the vine of wolfsbane inked around his wrist onto the back of his hand. “You tell me.”
He saw where I was looking and shook out his hand, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. His hands hung between his legs where I couldn’t see them, but his smile had dimmed a bit.
I felt oddly guilty for putting a damper on a moment that had felt like sitting in the bright sun after months of rain. “Well, you got me tarts, so I’d place my bet at… no more than twenty percent bad. The rest of you must be sugar and rainbows.”
His grin came back in full force, and I exhaled. I’d been worried that I’d driven him off.
“And spice, and everything nice.” Gwyn raked his hair back, sending it spilling down his back. The easy movement revealed a black leaf of hemlock tattooed on his neck.
I wanted to touch his hair. The thought confounded me; I didn’t like Gentry Fae. They were rude and haughty.
Except Gwyn. It’d been sweet of him to care if this morning was better than yesterday’s.
But I was Lesser Fae, and he wasn’t; this was just an inexplicable act of kindness, nothing more. I pulled my eyes away and caught sight of the clock on the building across the street.
“Blessed Branches, I’m late for work!” I jumped to my feet and brushed crumbs off my bare legs, praying they didn’t stick to the body glitter. The last thing I needed was swarms of midges following me down the streets. “Thanks for breakfast, Gwyn.”
He handed me the box. “Tart for the ride?”
I started to shake my head, but he jiggled the box. “Mmm. Blueberry. So delicious.”
A laugh burst out of me. “When you put it like that, I can’t say no.” I took the box, suddenly feeling shy again.
He stood up to his full height, towering over me. I ignored the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in my stomach, turning towards my glittery pink bike and looking down. Somehow, I hated him seeing this bike and the idiotic fake fairy wings bouncing on my shoulders.
It just drove the differences between us deep. No Gentry would ever work for Fairy Ferry or a boss like Numa.
Gwyn fell into step next to me, his hands in his pockets. “See you tomorrow morning?”
Surprise lanced through me. He wanted to meet up again?
Had I actually died and woken up in a different reality?
“I… yeah.” I tried not to sound so shocked. “But you have to let me get breakfast next time.”
With an extra paycheck coming in from Robin, we’d be absolutely rolling in tarts. The king and queen of Tart Castle.
“Try to come a bit earlier,” was all he said. “Give us more time to talk.”
My face was probably a permanent shade of crimson. “I’ll be here.”
I placed the box in my bike basket and swung my leg over. Before taking off, I waved once, curling my fingers once I’d dropped my hand.
“Bye, Briallen Bananatree,” he called with a bark of laughter, but when I glanced back, he was gone.
I turned the corner towards Fairy Ferry, and a roar ripped through the air.
A motorcycle breezed past, the body lacquered glossy black. Several bones were mounted over the handlebars.
And Gwyn waved back at me with a grin as he passed.
I stopped pedaling, slowing to a halt. Everyone in Avilion knew those bikes; they belonged to a notorious Solitary Fae gang, who answered to no laws and neither Queen. The bike, the tattoos of poisonous plants...
Gwyn was part of the Wild Hunt.
5
“Trade you.” I held up the box with the last blueberry tart and wiggled it around enticingly. “For the package to Thornwood.”
Audra Brightbreeze looked at it askance, but I already knew she was sold. The nephelai loved tarts about as much as I did, and that was saying something.
“I still need an extra package or I won’t meet my quota this week,” she said, but her eyes were glued to the box.
“Here. Three for Acionna Harbor.” I popped the box on her table and stacked three packages wrapped in dried seaweed, trading them for a gilt-wrapped box marked as FRAGILE.
I ran my fingers over the glossy paper. “Bet it’s a cut-crystal dildo.”
Audra made a face, swiping her pale blue hair out of her eyes. “Cut-crystal still isn’t good enough for their kind,” she said, clearly glad to be rid of the Thornwood delivery. “Nothing but pure diamond for Gentry cootch.”