Well, this is awkward
The smell of charbroiled beef (or what passed as beef) and other greasy delectables saturated the air as I walked into the noisy excuse for a dining establishment. I should have known he'd want to meet here of all places. The wizard must eat this slop at least three times a week.
My black heels clicked as I walked over to a corner table with miserable plastic gray chairs bolted to the floor on all sides. It sat in front of a window overlooking the drive-thru line, currently occupied by a red pickup truck.
The crunching sound of a crispy fry being bitten into brought my attention back to the wizard sitting with his back to the window. It was dark, and occasional headlights drove by the Burger King outside. Still, it seemed awfully risky for him to have chosen this seat and sat with his rear unguarded like this.
Then again, is it any more risky than consuming two or three Whoppers in a row? I thought. I'm not sure what the biggest danger here is, diet or a lack of proper defenses.
"You want to take a seat? I'd pull the chair out for you, but it's kind of stuck to the floor," the wizard said.
I looked down at him, his wrinkled and worn black duster wrapped around him like armor. His face was still bruised on one side, and even I could sense he wasn't back to full strength yet after the recent battle—no, war. It almost looked like every bite of food he took restored a tiny and warm sliver of his heart. Maybe I could see some minor appreciation for this place through his eyes and body language.
But that was becoming a problem. I didn't need to see the world through his eyes. I just needed him to do his job. . .right?
"I'd have thought the Winter Knight would be strong enough to pull a few bolts from the floor, especially when manners were at stake," I said, eyeing the chairs to select which had the least chance of staining my white gown.
Picking the seat across from Harry, I looked around the restaurant once more before taking my chair. The only other person in the dining room was a man across the way nursing a paper cup of what this place called coffee. The brown coat he wore was patchy and not nearly thick enough to protect him from Chicago's winter wind.
"Little paranoid, my darling?" Harry asked, finishing his burger and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his duster. Charming.
"Half the city just got leveled a week ago. This is one of the few places on this block with power after an army of fish monsters infiltrated Chicago. Paranoid? Perhaps. But it's necessary," I said.
Harry leaned back in his chair, and it squeaked. He took a drink of Coke and munched on a few more fries.
"Can I get you something to eat? My warden stipend is gone, but Mab still pays me enough to buy my fiancé dinner once in a while," Harry said, scratching the stubble on his chin.
That earned him a small smirk, tiny.
"I'll pass, thanks," I said, twirling a lock of my black hair around a finger. Surely this man had called me here to do more than offer me a burger and play the dopey date. It had to be more important, and not just because running House Raith had become thrice as busy since the War for Chicago, but because a part of me was curious if he saw my time as valuable, something he shouldn't be wasting.
Harry stopped eating, though I'm sure he fully intended to devour the last burger on his tray in the not too distant future. He wiped his mouth, scratched the back of his head, and took a breath.
"Here it comes," I said, crossing my legs under the table.
"Here what comes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow revealing just how clueless he was in some social interactions. It wasn't exactly his greatest strength. The man could imprison a titan, but if conversation was dance, he'd set the curtains and half the audience on fire.
I stopped twisting that strand of my hair and let gravity seize it once more before saying, "You do this thing where, right before you're about to say something that scares you, you take a breath. Every time."
Harry looked somewhat uncomfortable but was quick to deflect with another nugget of what passed for humor in his mind.
"C'mon, Lara. One kiss. One engagement. And suddenly you're an expert on all things Harry?" he asked, grinning and flashing an imperfect set of teeth.
Some days I'm convinced if Harry had a cockney accent, he could be a homeless extra in a community theater stage play adapting one of Dickens' works, I thought.
"You don't think in all our games of cat and rat I haven't learned everything about you I can?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and stealing a small fry. At least it was still warm. Harry hadn't gotten here too much before me. He was just a fast eater.
The man nursing his coffee approached the register and bought a cookie, something I didn't even want to think about Burger King actually having. Then he returned to his seat without immediately opening it. It occurred to me this man might just be buying cheap things now and again to stay indoors.
I looked down at the scuffed tile floor under the table before meeting Harry's gaze, not directly, but close. I'd looked upon the soul of a wizard more than once, and each sight was different. It was not here that I desired to see Harry's true self. Let there be at least some ceremony before we trample that ground.
Waiting for ceremony was usually the opposite of what my instincts told me to do. Even now, disheveled as he was, in this greasy spoon, a voice inside whispered to take him.
Harry's still hurt, both in heart and in body, the demon inside of me reasoned. It's all the more reason to bring him in and tighten the net around him. For the years I've known Harry, that voice has been alone inside where the wizard was concerned. It only grew louder after we shared a kiss to escape the cave explosion.
And yet. . .now there was an even quieter voice. It started countering the demon's whispers after Harry spoke to me on that cold shivering island of his. This voice was so soft I could barely make it out. But it, too, had been growing. . .slowly, since that day one week ago on the island.
That voice told me, on the rare occasion I could hear it, not to hurt this man. But to give him time, and he might just surprise me. It's something I'd never considered with any other man or woman my demon wanted to feed on prior to this last week.
It was this rarity of voice that gave me pause where I never had before and had me second-guessing my actions where Harry was concerned. Second-guessing usually got people killed. And I was keenly aware of another vampire who had kissed Harry and gotten killed later, by his own hand.
"You sure I can't order you something? They have chicken fries, you know," he said, pointing to the menu.
"I'll just continue to munch on yours, my betrothed. After all, what's yours is mine now, according to the order of your queen," I said, stealing another fry, this one a little larger.
Harry took another one of those breaths. Then, he said, "About that. . .that's why I called you here."
I just gave Harry a face that said, "I'm listening."
"Don't you think. . .we should be doing something?" Harry stammered. He took a drink of his Coke and tried again, while I resisted the urge to smile. Because I knew that would entirely disrupt his conversation train.
"We're engaged now, which, I don't think either of us asked for. There's a lot at stake, and dammit, Lara, I'm tired. I've got enough to worry about with Mab's business and the island, not to mention trying to make sure this never happens to Chicago again. And the one person I don't want to worry about anymore is you," he said.
The wizard wasn't stupid enough to imply that I couldn't take care of myself. He'd seen me with a blade in my hands and covered in blood on several occasions. But looking at Harry's face, hearing his increased heart rate, smelling him starting to sweat a little more than normal, I realized I'd seen this Harry before. . .when I was buried in sand on the island.
"Why don't you tell me what you're after, wizard," I said, taking another fry, this one the biggest on the tray.
By now the man across the kitchen had started to slowly unwrap his cookie, and I could hear one of the cooks turn on their headphones and get out a mop.
"That's just it, Lara. I don't want— I'm not after anything. I don't want you to think I'm trying to play you for some political victory. And I don't want to think you're just waiting for my guard to lower so you can sink your teeth into my soul," Harry said.
After an awkward silence, I spoke first.
"So what are you proposing?" I asked.
Harry shrugged. Then he took a drink of Coke. And after scratching his head for a few seconds, he said, "Stars and stones, Lara. I don't know. Maybe— can we just trust each other?"
"Trust each other? You're already holding Thomas on your island and have the leverage you need to trust I'll do what I say. What else are you looking for?" I asked, growing a little annoyed with his inability to speak clearly and put his desires into words. It was nothing new, but it was wearing my patience down at this particular moment.
The wizard leaned back further and crossed his arms. He stared at the blue and white ceiling tiles. And after a considerable amount of thinking, the man appeared to finally have his thoughts in order.
"Just now you thought of our relationship transactionally," Harry said. "I don't want that anymore. Look, I know you have these keen predator instincts. And I know we've been frenemies for a while now. But Mab joined us together, for better or worse, and while we don't have to love each other, I'd like to have a relationship where I can just trust you. And where you can trust me."
A little color had come to his cheeks, and I could tell from his voice and heart rate he was embarrassed at this request. But it wasn't in my nature to trust. Everyone in my family was looking for just a crack of weakness they could use to depose me. Trust was the one thing all my wealth couldn't afford.
And yet… that annoying little voice again. He just might surprise you, it whispered.
"Back on the island as you stood over me, you said one day the shoe would be on the other foot, and you'd have to take it. Is that what you picture here?" I asked.
"Not. . .particularly, no. I just want to be able to talk to you— really talk to you. And have you talk to me— really talk to me. And not the you that's sitting across the table from me right now, looking for accentuation on words and twisted fey tricks. The you that grew up raising Thomas, nurturing him and sheltering him until he grew old enough to meet his brother. The you that would do anything to see him alive and well once more. That's the you I want to experience in this relationship," Harry said.
I was surprised he was able to get all of that out. Once more the wizard had managed to accomplish something I'd thought impossible. It was rubbish, of course, his request. Nobody got to speak to me like that, on those terms, unguarded.
But maybe, that small voice said, maybe it would be worth trying just once with this wizard, on a temporary basis. For shits and giggles at the very least. And for the small chance this voice was right at the very most.
We didn't have to love each other, but maybe trust was something more impossible than that. The question was. . .did it have to be?
The demon inside of me lashed out and demanded I ask what I would receive in exchange for this trust. And, for once, I denied that voice. I could feed it later, back at the manor. For now. . .I would tread down this new path of uncertainty.
The cook had started mopping over by the man slowly munching on his cookie. Outside, a hummer pulled up to the drive-thru line.
So now I took a breath and looked at Harry, really looked at him, just off center a little bit. And I said, "Fine. . .Harry. You want my trust? I will grant it to you. But it's a two-way street."
He nearly choked on his Coke. Then he sputtered, "Meaning?"
"Meaning you have to trust me as well," I said, taking two fries at once now. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I didn't want to stop eating the salty little morsels. They'd grown a little colder now.
"Okay, I trust you," Harry said quietly.
"Actions speak louder than words, Harry. If you really trust me, introduce me to your daughter," I said, licking the salt off my index finger.
The wizard's face grew stern for a moment. Protective of Maggie? Understatement of the year. He went to war with a titan for Chicago. He'd go to war with God for Maggie.
"You see that look? You feel that tightness in your chest, wizard? That's what I feel and look like when you ask for my trust. MY trust. As if it's just something handed freely to you, a train token or a piece of gum. No, I guard my trust, and I guard it well, as you guard your daughter. So if you're serious about wanting my trust, I want to meet her and see this trust with my own eyes," I said, crossing my arms.
The cook had gone back to the kitchen and was working on the hummer's order now. By the grumbling of the frycook, it was quite a large order.
"Why Maggie?" he stuttered, no longer quite as stern. He understood my logic, at least.
"You already have the most important person in the world to me, Harry. He's on your island under lock and key. I think the least you can do to demonstrate your trust is introduce me to the most important person in your life," I said.
And there it was. I saw the king topple in Harry's head. The game was over. Then again, chess wasn't a fair comparison for Harry's head. Maybe Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders would be more appropriate.
"Fine, dinner tomorrow. You come over to the castle. And only you. You don't speak a word of the rendezvous to anyone. If anyone asks where you're going, it's just an errand. And if I sense even—" Harry interrupted himself. He thought on his words, something I'd rarely seen the wizard do. And he cleared his throat. "I'll uh…order takeout for us."
"And I'll bring the wine," I said, finishing Harry's fries.
"Even with 24 hours notice, I'm not sure I can think of what we'd toast to," Harry said, opening his final burger, now cold.
I smiled and simply responded, "To trust."