Fae of the South (Court of Crown and Compass Book 3) by E. Hall (good books to read in english TXT) 📗

to fill the space with conversation, ask questions, hear answers, and unravel the knots and webs Lea uses to protect herself. If I could reveal the truth about how I feel and she wouldn’t push me out the door at sixty miles per hour, I would.

As I think about how we just slayed three demons, my stomach churns, staging a riot of ache and nausea.

Abruptly, Lea slams the car onto the rough shoulder of the road. “What’s the matter with me?” Her voice is a husky whisper.

I shake my head, confused. “Nothing—”

She stops me from saying what she’s not ready to hear or doesn’t want to hear. It’s almost like she wants to think something is wrong with her. Tears glisten in the corners of her eyes.

I get out of the car and open the driver’s side door. Taking Lea’s hand, I draw her to her feet. I pull her close, wrapping her in a hug, anchoring her, offering a promise with my proximity. I will always be here for you. The world might hurt you, but I never will.

Her citrus spice scent threatens to knock me over. Right now, I’m her best friend. Not the boy who’s had a crush on her since jump street.

She sags a little in my arms. “I’m tired of being strong. For just one moment, I want to—”

I squeeze tighter, enveloping her, drawing the tension from her muscles. And for just one moment, it works. Her shoulders relax and she leans into me, letting me support her. I wasn’t there sophomore year when she was attacked. Fortunately, she walked away unharmed but shaken up as though what happened had been her fault. It wasn’t.

Lea pulls away. There’s no sense in lingering long enough to let myself think this could be anything more between us. I lead Lea to the passenger side, get back on the road, and drive until I spot a diner.

Inside, we settle into a worn vinyl booth. An abandoned newspaper sits folded by the salt and pepper shakers. The image of the edge of a burning building catches my attention, no doubt more bad news related to the misfits called the X-Crew.

A fuzzy-haired waitress who looks like she’s been here since the place opened asks to take our order.

I don’t even need to look at a menu. My order is always the same in places like this. “Tea and a slice of lemon meringue pie, please.”

“Coffee,” Lea says.

“Also, a piece of whatever pie you have that’s chocolate, please,” I add for Lea. Chocolate is her favorite.

“Do you mean the one with the Oreo cookie crust?” the server asks.

The corner of Lea’s lip turns up. She loves Oreos.

I wink. “Slaying demons builds up an appetite, you know. If those demons were human-looking, even Shirley there with the pouf of white hair could be one. I need you to have your energy.”

Lea lifts an eyebrow and almost smiles.

“If that were the case, we’d get a pie in the face and probably worse. I just don’t understand why. What do the demons want? Why all the violence and destruction?” I ask.

Lea’s eyes flash like she knows more than she lets on. Not surprising since her uncle is in the business of keeping demons and bloodthirsty vampires off the streets.

The pie arrives and I watch Lea take a big bite. My eyes are hungry for her. I dismiss the notion and dig into my slice of meringue piled so high it’s twice as big as the layer of lemon.

“This is so good,” she says around a mouthful.

“Always got your back. I came here a few times with my parents.” I blink away the memory. No sense in looking back.

“I miss them,” Lea says. “They were like family to me too.”

This reminds me that Lea is off-limits. We’re squarely in the friendzone and I’m grateful to at least have that.

“Right about now, your dad would be passing your mom a coin to put in the jukebox.” She fusses with the buttons on the old music player at our table.

It clicks and a song begins. Someone must not have used their credits because a Beatles song comes on, but not just any Beatles song. My parents’ song. She Loves You.

To my surprise, Lea gets to her feet and holds out her hand. “Come on, for them.”

At the back of the diner, we dance like we’ve been doing since we were kids...best friends. Take that, Lucas.

There’s a moment, during the chorus, when a piece of Lea’s long dark hair catches in her mouth. I gently pull it away. Our eyes meet. My racing heart thumps in my ears. I suddenly feel confident that Lea likes the idea of us, but it scares her. Me too if I’m honest.

When the song ends, we return to our seats and awkward silence laces between us. A news report flashes on the television in the front of the diner. The rest of the patrons go quiet.

“Breaking report. A fire, another in a wave of mass destruction happening throughout the city, rages out of control in Queens. Is it the work of the infamous and mysterious X-Crew, plaguing our streets?” the newscaster asks. “By the enormous black letter X painted across the top of the building, I would say so. Police report to follow.”

“They’re hitting each of the boroughs,” Lea says.

“If so, that means Brooklyn is next.” I shiver.

She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t understand why,” she echoes my earlier question. “But I wonder if Ivan knows who.” She fiddles with her fork. “He’s been strange lately. Distant. I imagine he has a lot on his mind. Doesn’t seem to keep him from his usual dating life though.” She snorts.

The guy has a different girlfriend every week.

“We should get back,” I say, tossing some