Smoke and Mirrors (34 page)

She must have taken his shocked silence for disbelief or something like it. The defensive tone she took with him made it clear she wasn’t so much trying to convince him as herself that there was nothing wrong with her.

“I work hard, you know? I’m poor, not stupid. Just because me and my mom don’t make a lot of money doesn’t mean we’re lazy leeches looking for some easy road out. Do you know what it’s like, counting pennies and praying that if I skip more meals than I already do that I’ll have enough to make rent? Do you know what it feels like to look at the cat’s food dish and wonder if what’s in it can tide you over unless your boss takes pity on you and gives you the stale leftovers at the end of your shift? Or you could steal a few pieces of food from the school cafeteria? Have you ever felt what it’s like, knowing everyone you meet is judging you, or expecting you to be grateful for their scraps, never knowing how hard you work for what you have? Have you ever known that no matter what you did, it would never be enough to cover everything?”

Cormac cleared his throat, but his voice still came hoarse with sorrow. “I have never been in your position, and can only imagine what that must have been like for you. I never thought you were looking for the easy road or that you were trying to be some sort of freeloader, and I hope you didn’t think I am even remotely like Viper in any way. All I want is for you to be happy, Kimberly. I’m not trying to turn you into a charity case—I’m trying to give you a helping hand to get yourself out of the mire you and your mother have found yourselves stuck in. You don’t have to struggle through it alone anymore.

“I want you to focus on finishing school since I know how important that is to you. Tell me how much money you need to tide you over until then. If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back after you find another job. I know you are capable of finding one on your own, but it would make me feel better if you let me help you in some way to get what you want. It worries me to think you might go hungry or without shelter because of me. Let this be my amends for making you lose your job at the café. Fair enough?”

Kimberly bit her lip and nodded, still not looking at him. Her agreement eased the constriction in his heart. He had the feeling there were other terrible things she may have had to do aside from filch some food from school or her job just to survive. Things she wasn’t ready to tell him about. Things she might never be ready to speak of with him, or anyone, at any time. Still, he thought her willingness to accept his offer was a tremendous leap in the right direction.

It was a start on the road that would lead to him finding ways to help her turn her circumstances around. Though it went against his instincts, he could temper his urges and find ways to assist rather than doing it for her. The significance of her agreeing to let him do as much was not lost on him.

As bothersome as he found it to realize that she had carried those burdens alone for so long—well, perhaps with a bit of help from her human mother, who could not begin to understand the fae side of her child—it was a great deal more humbling to him that she now was trusting him with shouldering part of the weight she’d carried. He would do his best to honor that trust and be an arm to lean on when she needed it, rather than a crutch for her to rely on.

With a low sigh, he slid his thumb under her chin, tilting her head up so she would meet his gaze. “Would it be pressing my luck to ask you to stay here with me?”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “As much as I would like to, I can’t leave my mom to fend for herself. The two of us together were barely making ends meet.”

He nodded, leaning across the counter to pour them both cups of coffee. She took a step back, her heartbeat picking up tempo as she put distance between them. Nervous.

“I have to go home,” she said.

“You’re worried about her?”

“Sort of. I have to tell her what happened at work. I also have to get cracking on my homework. I’m supposed to meet with Xander tomorrow for a study date. It’s my last chance to cram in some study.”

Cormac nodded again. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

She choked on her coffee, then swiped the back of her hand under her nose to get rid of the splashback, “I hope you’re just talking about walking me home. I don’t think we’ve reached the ‘meet the parental unit’ stage in this relationship yet.”

“I’m not making any more mistakes when it comes to your safety. If you prefer, I can stand guard from the air or rooftops, but I don’t want to take any chances until you have a familiar bond. Be it with me or…” Cormac paused, his lip curling. “…or the boy.”

“Don’t get too excited, now,” she said, tone wry. “You don’t have to do that. I’m just not sure how my mom will react to you. She’s not a big fan of the Other mojo I give off, so…”

“You think she’ll be afraid of me?”

“Maybe. Can you keep a lid on the ‘argh, gonna eat you’ vibes? You might have noticed that doesn’t go over well with the non-draconic folk.”

He laughed. “Yes, I can do that. I’ll make a special effort and be on my best behavior.”

Kimberly couldn’t help giggling at the faux-serious expression he made as he straightened his shoulders and tilted up his chin. The hard set of his jaw was not very intimidating when combined with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Leaning back to grin up at him, she shook her head. Then fiddled with the buttons on his shirt and straightened the wrinkles she’d made in the pale blue cotton as she clutched at him. His roguish look turned hungry as he lightly captured her hands in his, stilling them and drawing her attention back up to meet his gaze.

“We may not have the opportunity to be alone together for a few days. Want to take advantage of it while we can?”

Snickering at his brow waggle, she shook her head again. “You are incorrigible. I hope my mom is ready for you.”

“People are rarely ready to meet their first dragon.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Cormac managed to convince Kimberly to let him buy dinner to start off on the right foot with her mother. It hadn’t taken much to get her to agree. Before long, the two walked together, hand in hand, and picked up dinner to go at the Black Star Café. Rieva rang them up, radiating curiosity but not asking any questions.

When they reached Kimberly’s apartment building, she led Cormac inside, doing her best not to flush when one of the keys on the pad for the front door got stuck. He was careful to keep his composure, giving no sign of how distasteful he found the chipped paint and general disrepair of the building, though he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose once she led him up to her floor. The mix of old cigarettes and dog piss underlying the thicker scent of curry from someone’s dinner wafting through the hallway was an assault to his acute senses.

Cormac held his breath, eyes narrowed as he waited with as much patience as he could muster for Kimberly to let him in. The tingle of her wards activating in response to his presence was far less of an irritant than the smells making his eyes water.

She went inside but held up a hand for him to wait. She set down the coffees she’d been carrying on the kitchen counter, then returned to the door frame and pressed one palm to it as she concentrated on the power infused into the runes she had drawn there a few days before. Some of them came to life with a dim white glow, pulsing with her intent, growing brighter as she reached out to touch Cormac’s hand. A touch of ozone and a brief, blinding flash signaled the adjustment she made, granting him access.

As soon as the crackle of electricity over his skin vanished, he was through the door like a shot, sliding past her with serpentine grace. She grinned at his obvious and deliberate attempt at nonchalance, then shrugged and shut the door behind them, calling out.

“Mom? Are you home?”

“In the living room. Did you talk to Don about extending your hours yet? The electric bill just came in.”

Kimberly grimaced, and headed down the hall to the living room, sparing Cormac a glance. He was peering at Monster, who was staring up at him from the end of the hall, back arched and tail fluffed out to twice its normal size. She nudged Cormac with her elbow and gestured for him to follow her. As soon as he started moving, Monster hissed and dashed away to hide in the bedroom.

“Um. Not yet. Can we talk about that later? I have a guest.”

Her mother hastily got to her feet as they emerged from the hallway, running a hand through her hair and then over her food-spattered shirt. It was clear she hadn’t been home from work very long and hadn’t had a chance to freshen up, her eyes a bit red with telling dark circles under them. Her smile was forced, but she made an effort to put on a cheery face.

“Why didn’t you say so? Who’s this?”

“Mom, this is Cormac Hunter. He’s been helping me with my homework. Cormac, this is my mom, Heather Wells.”

Cormac set down the bag of food on the tiny, rickety table with a pair of mismatched chairs, and then extended his hand to shake. Kimberly’s mother stared at him intently as she took his hand, though she kept her expression cautiously neutral. Kimberly bit her lip and tried to keep a cap on her nervousness about this meeting. She hoped her mom didn’t pick up that Cormac was the one who had driven her home in tears. This situation was already awkward enough as it was.

“Nice to meet you,” Heather said. “Please excuse me a minute. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“That’s fine. Kimberly and I will get dinner ready. Take your time.”

Her lips briefly formed a moue as she turned a sharp look on Kimberly before nodding and hurrying to the bedroom. Cormac pulled the containers out of the bag while Kimberly went to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery.

Since the tiny dining table only had two chairs, he began to set everything up on the coffee table before the couch instead. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was the only place the three of them could sit down to the meal together.

As he was moving some papers from the coffee table, he spotted a notice of eviction tucked in with a few other bills and pay stubs. With a scowl, he covered it up with some of the other papers and envelopes, then set the stack aside and continued unpacking the food, surreptitiously noting his surroundings.

Far too small to shift in should the need call for it. A small collection of secondhand (or perhaps third, or fourth) furniture, with dings and scratches and stains hidden by some colorful but artfully draped scarves, was scattered around the room. No TV. A leaning bookshelf with a collection of battered paperbacks and a scattering of shells and sea glass served as an entertainment center. There was a single picture on the top shelf, framed, of a younger Kimberly with her arms wrapped around her mother’s waist as the two smiled at the camera. The rolling, deep blue waves of the Atlantic Ocean was in the background.

He moved about as if he’d been there a thousand times before, setting aside the throw pillows and knitted afghan and retrieving a rag from the kitchen to wipe up the condensation that leaked onto the table from the tops of the containers. Their arms and fingers brushed each other more than once as they transferred the food to the plates, and he could feel her vibrating with nervousness. With a low, muttered Word and a pass of his hand over the food and drinks, they were again steaming hot.

Some of the self-conscious tension knotting Kimberly’s shoulders fell away as he took a seat and folded one leg over the other, an arm stretched along the back of the couch. He made an effort to appear more at ease than he was. The cramped quarters and irritating scents still plugging his nose were making him itch to regain his true form and clear his head in the heights of the clouds. Her quick, tight smile and the grateful glint in her eyes made suffering the assault on his senses worth it.

Shortly after they finished preparing everything and Kimberly settled beside Cormac on the couch, her mom came out of the bedroom in a clean pair of jeans and a plain but faded T-shirt. Her face was freshly scrubbed and her short blond hair had been slicked back from her face with water. She paused when she saw the spread on the table, brown eyes gone wide. The steak with caramelized onions, kale salad with tangerine slices and pine nut garnish, and prosciutto wrapped asparagus looked incredible, even on their chipped stoneware plates. The addition of coffee and a slice each of cheesecake, chocolate and apple pie for dessert was the topper on an already overwhelming surprise.

When she managed to peel her gaze off of the feast on the table and pick her jaw off the floor, she waved a hand at the spread. “You—this—Mr. Hunter, this is—”

“Please, Mrs. Wells, have a seat. Enjoy it while it’s still hot.”

She settled gingerly on the opposite end of the couch from Cormac, Kimberly between them, her jaw still slack with surprise. “It’s Miss, but you’re going to make me feel like my mother if you call me by my last name. It’s Heather. And thank you for all this.”

“As you wish, Heather. It was my pleasure.”

They tucked into the meal with gusto. Once again, Cormac didn’t touch his own food until Kimberly took her first bite. When Heather exclaimed over how decadent and tasty everything was, Kimberly shot a grateful look at him. After they finished off the main course and started sipping coffee and sharing the desserts, everyone trying a bite of all the different sweets, conversation turned from the food to more personal matters.