Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

MAR

W ith a stretch and a yawn, I woke to a quiet room.

Too quiet.

Greta should have been squished up in the bed beside me. She wasn’t. Imogen should have been tucked into her own bed opposite ours. The blankets were neatly folded, as if she hadn’t slept there at all.

“Greta? Imogen?” My voice was scratchy with sleep.

Last night upon returning to the hotel, Levi had received a phone call and excused himself. Greta, Imogen, and I ended up eating, promising to chat more this morning about our plans for the day. Then we’d crashed.

But I was beginning to suspect the two of them had devised a plan of their own.

I climbed out of bed and checked the bathroom. No one was here. They’d gotten up early and left without a word, likely to prevent me from trying to weasel my way into staying together as a group today.

A flicker of annoyance passed through me, but it was fleeting.

There would be no buffer, no Imogen to carry conversation and hide behind. I was stuck spending the day alone with Levi.

We’d be forced to discuss the kiss that should never have happened. He’d want to know what it meant. It meant nothing. Nothing good could come from telling him so. And if we didn’t talk about it…there’d be room left for misinterpretation, or worse, expectation.

I’d rather fight a cave full of goblins alone, naked, with rusty wrenches duct taped to my skin, than face the day.

Alas, that wasn’t an option. Even if it was, I’d still have to see Levi again at some point, so I’d only be delaying the inevitable.

I made the bed and got myself ready for the day. Unfortunately, Greta had taken my favorite sweater. It was of course her favorite sweater, too. Having second choice in my own clothing was a mild inconvenience. I’d get over it.

My entire situation would feel more manageable after breakfast. Caffeine and carbs made everything better.

I headed to the door to grab some breakfast before having to face my doom. But as soon as I opened the door, my doom was lying in wait.

Despite knowing the consequences, I greedily took in the sight of him from the sunny and slightly-disheveled hair swept across his forehead to the width of his broad shoulders and the flattering loose fit of his white-washed jeans.

Clearly I was a self-destructive mess.

Levi dropped the fist he’d held raised, poised to knock.

His gaze captured mine.

Heat crept up my neck. “Oh, hi.”

“Good morning. Are you all set to hunt down a homicidal fox?”

“Coffee first,” I said, looking anywhere but at him. “And it’s a possibly -homicidal fox.”

“You’re right. That makes me feel far more prepared.”

The corner of my lips twitched involuntarily, in what was almost a smile.

I would not be disarmed by him. I would not be charmed by him.

We headed down the hall and out to the cafe on the corner. After we ordered, we claimed a table out front. I sipped at my coffee and let the warm caffeine do its work. The quiet was more comfortable than I’d expected as we ate breakfast. Then, far too soon, Levi spoke.

“Before we depart, there’s something we need to discuss.”

The kiss, because of course.

I gulped down the last of my coffee. “No. It was a brief moment of brain frazzle, nothing worth discussing.”

He raised a brow.

“It was hardly a peck, two mouths passing by each other like two midnight trains in a pitch-black tunnel, with no deeper meaning.” I was completely aware of how ridiculous I sounded, but I couldn’t shut up.

“Two trains?”

“Sure, why not? You know what happens when trains clip each other? It’s a catastrophic collision with deadly consequences.”

The corners of his cheeks pulled upward behind his coffee mug. His shamrock eyes sparkled with amusement. “I was referring to the plan about the fox.”

Ugh.

Before I could respond, he added, “But since you brought it up, I can’t let your misrepresentation slide.”

“It’s not a misrepresentation of events. It’s the truth of what happened. We barely kissed. It was a peck, a mistake born of falsely-inflated emotion. It meant nothing.”

“Kissing me might not have meant anything to you, Marshmallow.” He set down his mug and leaned forward. “But it meant plenty to me.”

Heat and uncertainty swirled through my stomach. I pressed my lips together rather than ask what exactly the kiss meant to him.

It couldn’t mean anything. He didn’t know me well enough to form any meaningful attachment. We were strangers with a shared goal, that was all.

Those thoughts, the reasonable denial, felt hollow. Maybe a teeny tiny part of me wanted him to prove me wrong.

A moment passed as we stared at each other. Then another, and another.

Finally he freed me from the tension by changing the subject. “Since neither of us are particularly familiar with kitsunes, or where they might go, I suggest we return to the place the blurry red image was captured.”

“Agreed.” I pulled up the group conversation on my phone and clicked on the image in question. It wasn’t only the maybe-fox that was blurry. The gray background was blurry, too. “Any idea where to look?”

“Let’s assume the gray is stone,” Levi said.

“Stone pathways, like the ones that fill the entire town of Nevermore.”

“Yes, but a stone pathway Imogen walked. You were with her, so we can check only the streets the two of you followed.”

Okay, that did help. “I also have the pictures she took before and after to narrow the area down further.”

Levi smiled. “I’m ready when you are.”

A mix of emotions filled my middle, swirling and pulsing. I was as ready as I’d ever be.

I scrolled through the text chain to the closest clear photo Imogen had taken prior to capturing the image of the fox. I turned the screen for Levi to see.

“Lucky for us, we start here,” I said.

“Fortuitous indeed.”

We left the cafe and headed the same direction Imogen and I had gone yesterday when she’d first arrived. It was hard to believe so little time had passed. This was only my third day in Nevermore, even though it had felt like three weeks. Part of it had to be stress, the rest could be blamed on lack of sleep.

That was probably why I’d kissed Levi—exhaustion-induced delirium. No way should I be held responsible for my actions when I was so tired and disoriented.

“How did you and Imogen meet?” Levi asked.

“She invaded my brain and took over my body,” I said.

He slowed his pace and blinked at me. “That’s horrible.”

“It was,” I agreed. “But don’t judge her too harshly. She’s actually as ridiculously sweet as she seems. If anyone is made of marshmallow, it’s her.”

“That doesn’t sound sweet at all.”

“I hated her for it at first,” I said.

“Anyone would.”

“But then I got to know her.”

“You’re more forgiving than I would be.”

“I didn’t want to forgive her. It was inevitable.”

“How so?”

“Well, she only did it because she was scared. She needed a way to meet Wendy.”

“Your lych friend.” He nodded.

“Yep. She owns the animal shelter where we all work.”

“Your marshmallow is showing again.” He grinned a charming grin.

I rolled my eyes. “So at the time, Wendy didn’t know she was a witch or what was going on with her. I hadn’t cloned myself or been exposed to magic at all. Imogen bodysnatches me to introduce herself to Wendy, from what she considers a safe distance.”

“In your shoes, I’d still hate Imogen at this point.”

“I did. But she didn’t know that I would experience being a prisoner in my own body. At that time, from Imogen’s point of view no one had a memory of the experience at all.”

“Still hating her.”

“She apologized profusely. She groveled. She brought me donuts.”

“Ah, now we’re getting to the heart of it. I’m making a mental note that if I ever offend you in the future, the key to your heart isn’t candy. It’s sugary fried treats.”

It was a joke, lighthearted in nature. Yet, the part that stuck out to me was one he likely didn’t intend—he could still hurt me at a later date. That only worked if I let him in. I could still stop doing that, right now, by shutting down this get-to-know-you nonsense.

“There’s nothing else to tell,” I said with a finality I hoped would end all conversation.

“Imogen seems devoted to making you happy now, helping you any way she can,” Levi said. “Those kinds of friends are once-in-a-lifetime, if we’re lucky.”

His tone, his words—they made questions bounce around my head. If I asked them, I would be doing exactly the thing I’d told myself I didn’t want to do.

Don’t ask.

I’d told myself that by sharing his job with me, he’d opened up. But candy preferences and occupation were itty bitty tidbits, nothing compared to hiding his supernatural nature.

The lip-smacking mistake was a wakeup call. I couldn’t keep fooling myself.

He wouldn’t talk any more deeply about himself, even if I did ask. He was an enigma-wrapped ball of secrets. Levi didn’t exhibit red flags because he himself was a walking red banner.

Distance was key.

Maintain a healthy level of indifference and I’d be immune to catching feelings. Feelings were a one-way ticket to vulnerability, which undoubtedly led to pain and regret. Feelings were the enemy.

Without me asking a single thing, Levi said, “Otis is that person for me.”

I met his gaze, those ridiculously stunning irises, and I completely lost whatever I’d been thinking.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives,” he said. “I grew up an only child, while Otis had three brothers. I spent as much time as I could with him and his family, secretly pretending I was a part of it. There was always so much going on, so much excitement and closeness.”

“Big families aren’t always close,” I said.

He lifted a brow. “Speaking from experience?”

“I have a brother and three sisters,” I said. “I could do without any of them.”

“Harsh.”

“Honest.”

“You don’t get along with any of them?”

“We don’t fight, if that’s what you mean. Everything is always perfectly pleasant and nice, including the patronizing tone cast my way during every conversation about careers, money, and the weather.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I spent too much time wishing I wasn’t the disappointing middle child, wishing I was the only child.”

“Grass is always greener on the other side, I suppose.”

True enough.

“Do you see your family often?” he asked.

“No more than I have to. So, no, not particularly. I prefer my family like everyone else—at a distance, leaving me alone.”

“Not Imogen, though.”

“Almost everyone,” I said. “What about you? Are you grossly close with your parents?”

He chuckled. “I see them for holidays, check in over the phone once a month or so. Not sure if that counts as a gross amount.”

“Sounds appropriate.”

“Good. I’d hate for you to find me repulsive.”

I wished I could. It would make our time together so much less confusing.

“Growing up, Otis was there for me every time I screwed up or retreated in on myself. He’s the one I’d call in an emergency. Like you and Imogen. I want to be that person for him, too.”

How badly had Levi screwed up in the past? Why did he retreat? I wanted to know every single piece of the Levi puzzle.

“You’re here,” I said. “You’re being that person right now.”

His smile was soft, if touched with sadness.

I wanted to promise we’d find Otis, that he’d be all right, but that wasn’t a fair thing to say. Neither of us could know what we’d find when all of this was over.

We reached Bernadette’s house.

“This is the end of the track,” I said. “The picture was taken somewhere between here and the cafe, unless it happened to be in one of the alleys that all look exactly the same. I didn’t see any foxes along the way. Did you?”

“Unfortunately not. But we can head back and look again. Detour behind a few buildings, see how that goes.”

I didn’t have a better plan, so I nodded.

We walked for a while before turning down a small path to try a different route.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps between buildings, illuminating ivy-covered walls and highlighting the intricate carvings on old wooden doors. The warm beams contrasted with the bite of the cold air.

As I took in my surroundings, including the company of the man walking beside me, I realized what exactly had held me back from trusting Levi. It wasn’t the supernatural nature secret. It wasn’t that I didn’t know specific bits of his past or his present.

It was the very specific lack of information I had about his current circumstance. His friend was missing. That’s why he was in Nevermore. He was conducting an investigation, and while he had a plethora of knowledge about my search for Nie, I knew nothing about his search for Otis.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” I said.

“That’s a question right there, Marshmallow.” Levi’s lips turned up on one side. “You’ve been direct since we met, no need to walk back on that now.”

“Okay. When exactly did Otis go missing? When did he come to Nevermore, and why? If you were following your own leads to hunt him down, would it be better for you to keep doing that now, rather than help me with my quest?

Levi chuckled. “That’s quite a few questions.”

It was. How very Imogen of me.

“I’ll do my best to answer, but I need to tell you something,” he said.

“Sure.” I grimaced, a little nervous as to what that something might be.

“I knew who you were when we first met.”

As he spoke, a subtle tension crept into my chest. His words were wrapping around something important, something I wasn't sure I wanted to hear.

“At the midnight market?” I asked.

He nodded. “I should start at the beginning. The twenty-fifth, I received a cryptic message from Otis.”

The twenty-fifth was the day that Nie had died.

“What did it say?”

“It said I’m sorry about the Lucky Charms.”

“Did that mean something to you?”

“Whenever he spent the night at my house as kids, he’d wake up before me and pick the marshmallows out of the whole box of cereal. Obviously the marshmallows are the best part.”

And he called me Marshmallow. I took a deep breath and attempted to dispel the wave of heat creeping up my ears.

“It felt…” He looked up toward the sky, like he could find the right words in the clouds. “Like goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” He looked back at me. “I tracked his phone, here to Nevermore.”

“Can you keep tracking it now?”

“It’s in the ocean.”

Bummer.

“I found nothing here, for five days. Until I spotted a fox at the train station acting like it was looking for someone. It dragged a trash bag under one of the trains and disappeared. With no better leads, I bought a ticket and rode that train to Piccadilly.”

I sifted through what he’d said. Every word could be important, a key to betrayal or a new realm of trust.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I asked.

“I did tell you I’d seen a fox in Nevermore.”

But he’d left out key details. Last night he said he saw a fox. He’d said that was the whole story.

Everything between us was new. I couldn’t expect him to divulge everything immediately. Trust took time.

He continued, “And then I met you at the market, and you looked familiar. I’d seen you before, here in Nevermore. I thought if we talked, you might recognize me, too.”

“You saw Nie, here in Nevermore.” I searched Nie’s memories for a glimpse of Levi. I came up short. “Did you talk to me?”

“No.”

“But you saw me on the day I—Nie—died. Where?”

“At the Mournmore.”

That didn’t tell me much, but it was something.

“Did you see the fox again in Piccadilly?” I asked.

“No.”

I believed him. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt in all matters. If I was being honest with myself, I liked him. Really liked him.

“I’m glad you told me,” I said.

He smiled, but then his brows furrowed and he flicked his head to the side.

I followed his gaze and caught a flash of something small and orange just as it turned the corner.

Maybe it was a fox. It was certainly something, which was better than the nothing we’d seen the rest of the day. So we ran after it.

As we turned a corner, the creature jumped up on top of a trash can, splayed itself out and licked its belly. I remembered seeing an orange tabby at Bernadette’s house before. The town might not have children, but it seemed to have a plethora of orange cats.

Levi stepped closer. “This is not our fox.”

I stepped closer, too, and checked out the animal’s features. “Not a cat-fox. Just a cat.”

I let out a defeated breath and glared at the imposter.

“Are you sure the fox you saw at the train station wasn’t just another cat?” I asked Levi.

“I’m sure.” He stepped between trash cans and put his hand on the wall, swiping ivy from the stone surface. “Take a look at this.”

It wasn’t a wall at all, but a huge, round metal door with no discernible handle. Intricate shapes were carved into the metal, tons of small flowers and other shapes, like this was the life’s work of a skilled craftsman.

“What do you think is in there?” Levi asked.

“Something suspicious,” I said.

There was no way to open it, but I took a picture of the door, then a few more of our surroundings so we’d remember where we’d found it.

A loud crash startled me. I jumped and twisted to find the cause.

The metal trash can lid was on the ground, rolling away like a wobbly wheel.

The cat scrambled a few feet from the can, back arched, eyes wide.

It must have accidentally knocked the lid and itself over.

I grabbed my chest and chuckled. When I twisted back around, I practically crashed into Levi.

With only an inch between us, I could feel the heat of his skin. He smelled like freshly fallen rain in the spring, like light after surviving the darkest of days.

I watched his throat work as his gaze fell upon my mouth.

“Can I tell you something, Marshmallow?” he asked, his voice rough.

I nodded, not quite able to speak.

I should step away, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Instead, my body betrayed me and I leaned a little closer.

“We’re not two trains crashing into devastation,” he said.

“We’re not?” My voice sounded weak, a whisper, a hope.

“We’re two lost socks, abandoned at the laundromat.”

I laughed, openly, surprising myself.

Levi didn’t laugh, though. He placed his palm on the small of my back and spread his fingers across my skin.

Heat spread through my middle, and suddenly being a sock didn’t seem so funny.

“Who loses a whole pair of socks?” I whispered. “It’s always just the one, leaving the other useless and alone.”

“We didn’t come from the same pair,” he said. “But we match.”

It was weird and corny and beautiful. I’d never felt so seen. I’d never wanted another moment to go on for an eternity just like this yet wish so much that it would end.

Because I wanted what came after.

His lips moved in, or maybe mine did, I couldn’t say for sure. But he was only a breath away. My heart fluttered.

After my proclamations of how our first kiss had meant nothing, how it had been a mistake, he wasn’t going to push me now. He’d wait an inch away, for me to decide.

So I kissed him, again, and this time there was no explaining it away.