Resistance

by Allana Kephart

  “Flint—”

  “Are you okay?” I cut her off and move to stand in front of her. There is a decent-sized handprint on her upper arm and I know it’s going to bruise. Again I can’t separate my jaw, and wish I’d burnt more than just his hand…

  “Hey,” Fi says, and I look away from the reddened mark on her arm. The hand that isn’t gripping mine touches my tense jaw; her fingers running over the bone and she’s staring at me with something like wonder in her eyes. I let out a breath and drop her gaze; looking at the ground between our feet and trying not to be homicidal. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

  “It is not okay,” I say. Gesturing to her arm, I continue, “This is the farthest thing from okay! How could this possibly be okay?”

  “It’s no big deal,” she says, her hand slowly trailing down my neck and to my shoulder. She’s quiet for a moment, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and then she says, “Thank you for defending me.”

  I stare at her, amazed she’d ever think otherwise. “Always.”

  “Really,” she insists, smiling at me. “I appreciate it.”

  I feel that there is more to this than meets the eye, but I don’t want to push her to explain in the middle of the park. Instead, I duck my head and brush my mouth against hers. Her eyes close and she pushes up on her toes to keep us together for a split second longer, and I smile against her lips. Someone clears his throat behind us and Fi freezes, looking over my shoulder shyly.

  “Sean came to see Ruth,” Seamus says, an amused grin on his face. “Figured we needed a guard since he had a little…accident.”

  He’s looking right at me when he says it and I shrug. “I can’t control my temper sometimes.”

  Seamus shakes his head, but one look at Fi’s arm has him biting his tongue and keeping in whatever comments he might have. He looks angry at the forming bruise—angry is an atypical emotion for Seamus and while I’m shocked to see the fury in his eyes, I’m thrilled someone in Fi’s family would have reacted the same way I did. Fi snorts and covers her mouth, oblivious to the emotions on Seamus’ face.

  “Why don’t we head back to the house, Flint?” Fi asks, a light blush on her face. I smirk at her and bite my tongue so I don’t tease her; just nodding. “We’ll see you later, Uncle Sea.”

  He grins and nods at us as we start away, but I stop. I ask Fi to give me a second and move back over to her uncle. “You should know,” I say. “Sean was talking to someone… I didn’t get a really good look at him, but he took off like hell when he got a good look at Fi.”

  Seamus looks confused, but nods. “I’ll keep an eye out. Thank you.”

  I nod and head back over to Fi, who is staring at me in open curiosity. “What was that about?”

  I shake my head. She’s stressed enough already — she doesn’t need to know that Sean is conversing with people outside of the city right this moment. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” She narrows her eyes and I feel a protest coming, but I smother it with another kiss, leaving her speechless. I smile at her reaction and rest my hands against her waist. “Let’s get back inside and continue this conversation.”

  She grins up at me and nods; her curiosity momentarily tamped down. I rest my arm around her back as we head back toward the house, and even though I know Seamus is watching the perimeter, I can’t help but look over my shoulder as we close the door.

  I swear I’ve heard that man’s voice before…

  Chapter 24—Lumi

  August 2102

  I wake early as usual to the smell of coffee wafting under my door from somewhere close by and roll out of bed. I sniff and follow my nose across the hall to Patrick’s office and find Fi sitting on the sofa in front of the desk lotus-style, with her nose buried in a book and a cup of steaming coffee held precariously in her other hand. I grin and knock lightly on the open door, watch her eyes continue on their path, and then a moment later she looks up at me absently.

  “Good morning, Lu. I brought coffee and muffins for us,” she says to me with a huge smile. “I was hoping you’d join me.” The familiar basket of muffins and accoutrements, along with my new favorite thing, the silver thermos that holds the coffee, are sitting right in the middle of the coffee table.

  “Good morning! Thank you for thinking of me.” I grab a strawberry muffin and fill a mug halfway with coffee, then add a ton of sugar and milk to it until it looks similar to how Eir always makes it for me. I mimic Fi’s pose at the other end of the sofa; facing her and taking a deep drink of the delicious brew in my cup. “Your brother has turned me into an addict, I’m afraid,” I say with a laugh.

  I expect her to laugh along with me, but instead she holds her tongue between her teeth. Her eyes shoot from my face, to the windows, to the floor and back again about five times before she finally says, “Can I ask… What do you think of Eir?” She’s quiet for half a second and I see regret flash in her eyes for the question. “I know he’s been hanging around a lot, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t bothering you.”

  Bafflement settles like a thick cloud and I shake my head. “Bothering me? Of course not! He’s…” Blood rushes up to my face and I stop myself from saying a multitude of things girls don’t want to hear about their little brothers. “He’s a sweetheart. I love his company.”

  A look I can’t describe crosses over her face. She looks…relieved? Excited? Both? Why would she look excited by that statement? “I’m so glad,” she breathes. “He seems to really enjoy your company, too. And now I’m butting out, I promise.”

  I have no idea what she’s getting at or why she feels she’s ‘butting in’ to anything. “You don’t have to worry about him at all,” I say. “He’s one of the nicest people I ever met.”

  She puffs up, proud as a peacock over my compliment. “He is. I’m lucky to have him. We’re both very happy you’re here, Lu,” she says. “I hope you know that.”

  “You’re sweet,” I say, and then add without thinking, “Your father raised you well.”

  Her smile remains in place but it becomes sad. “He did his best, in my opinion. And honestly, not many people would call me sweet,” she says, trying to back off the subject of her father. I’m sure the image I’ve installed in her mind of him alone in a dungeon is haunting her and I feel horrible for it, so I go along with her and switch gears.

  “Well maybe they don’t take enough time to get to know you.” I wink at her. “If you ask my family, I’m a mentally unstable deviant. Not everyone knows what they’re talking about.”

  Fi laughs and a blush comes over her cheekbones suddenly. She bites her lower lip and says quietly, “My mother always said that I put people off. I’ve never really had a friend outside my family until…well, Flint.” Her light pink cheeks flush deep red when she says his name. “He seems to break all the molds, though.”

  “Hey,” I snap and shove her shoulder. “I’m your friend, thank you very much!” I should stop, I think, and not bring up Flint. Last time I said something about them, Fi swallowed her tongue and Flint about had a stroke. But one of my many flaws is that I never know when to shut up until it’s too late. “I think Flint’s a little bit in love with you. I don’t mean to keep bringing that up but — damn. The way he looks at you…” I trail off; feeling like I’m rambling and pushing, and already considering ways to apologize for it.

  Fi fans her face and clears her throat, but in spite of her obvious embarrassment she has a huge smile on her face. “You are my first female friend, and…” She coughs and her face turns a deeper shade of crimson. “Um…well…oh, God. Flint.”

  I suppress the urge to leap in her space and shake her until she finishes her sentence. Flint was very touchy with her at the dinner table before Sean came in and screamed at me, and I haven’t had the chance to ask her again if they were just on the ‘DL’. “Well?” I ask. “Flint’s what? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

  Fi shakes her head and her eyes go wide. She looks lost and frightened and utterly confused. “I don’
t know the protocol here for this stuff, but he’s, um…” She gulps in a breath and swallows so loudly I can hear it. “He’s wonderful—I mean—he just—we—well…” She coughs. “Well, I really…um…you’re right. It’s mutual.”

  “I KNEW IT!” I blurt without thinking; bouncing a little in my seat and smacking my hands together.

  Fi laughs. “I swear, we weren’t lying to you when you mentioned us being a couple that first night. This all happened after that.” She gulps again. “After Quincy broke in and attacked us… It kind of came out after that…eventually.”

  I shake my head. I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. “You two finally admitted you were ogling each other; that’s all that matters.” I realize I sound like a maniac and shake myself. “I’m sorry, I just…I like you guys together.”

  Her face deepens in color to the point where she’s almost purple. “Were we really that obvious?”

  I pause. I don’t want to answer completely honestly and say, “Oh, God yeah!” but I can’t exactly lie to her either. I scratch my neck and look toward the floor; my voice a soft whisper. “Um, well, yeah, kinda.” Fi groans and hides her face and I quickly add, “I mean, you weren’t glaringly obvious. Someone really had to be watching you guys.” That sounds believable, so long as she doesn’t hear what I actually said: ‘If they weren’t looking in your direction they wouldn’t notice.’

  “I swear, I was oblivious,” Fi says from behind her hands.

  “Oh please,” I scoff. “He didn’t appear to have a clue, either.” I remember his flushed and horrified face when I asked if they were together and snicker to myself. “I thought he was going to die when I said you were cute together.”

  Fi blushes and laughs. “I didn’t notice.”

  “I think I startled you too much. Honestly, he had no idea what to do. I thought he swallowed his tongue.” I bite my lip to try and stop my laughter and look her in the eye. “He was following your lead the entire time.”

  “Mine?” She laughs. “Seriously? That’s funny. I didn’t think he could stand me most of the time.” She sighs and shakes her head; looking at her clasped hands in her lap. “I’m an idiot.”

  I lurch forward and dig my finger into her side. “You are not an idiot.”

  She offers a shy smile. “Thanks. I guess I had blinders on.” She stops suddenly and looks away again. She’s drifting into a dark place — I’ve seen that look on my own face — and I don’t want to watch her go down that path. “Look, Hellboy wasn’t exactly in-the-know about your feelings either. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

  She pauses and gives me a weird look, and some of the light comes back to her eyes. She giggles. “Hellboy?”

  I smile. I’m very proud of that nickname. “Yes. That’s his chosen pet name.”

  She tilts her head back and laughs a little louder; covering her mouth as she nods. “It fits him,” she says, and takes a sip of her coffee.

  “Nah.” I shrug. “I think Twinkly Bottom fits him better, myself, but he didn’t appreciate the art in it.”

  She chokes on the hot liquid in her mouth and clamps her hand over her lips. Her eyes snap shut and her shoulders shake as she tries to breathe through her nose and not spit coffee all over the floor. I start laughing, unable to contain it, and she gulps unevenly. “Oh my,” she says, and bursts into giggles. “That is…I’m going to have to use that one.”

  “I have decided that’s his nickname when he’s being a twit,” I say, still cracking up.

  Fi doubles over and wheezes, hardly able to breathe already. “I love it.”

  “I’m sure he won’t be thrilled I told you about that,” I say, catching my breath.

  Fi smiles and shakes her head. “I’m sure he won’t…I really don’t care, though.”

  “Just be warned he may shun us both,” I tell her. Then I think about it and pause. “Well, just me at least. I don’t think he could ignore you for very long.”

  Fi, who had gone back to a normal shade of pink, returns to her deep red color and clears her throat a few times. “I haven’t tested that yet, but I don’t think he’d stay upset with you very long either, honestly.”

  “Trust me,” I urge, smirking. “You wouldn’t be ignored for it. He’s sweet, but I do believe he would glare at me quite a bit.”

  “Oh yes, there will be glaring.” Fi sniggers. “Whatever will we do?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you could bat those pretty eyes at him and he’d be a happy little fox again.” I try to keep a straight face and fail miserably; a rather unladylike snort breaking free of my throat. “I’m sorry. You two are just so cute I can’t stand it.”

  Fi laughs. “I don’t know about all that.”

  “You’ll see soon enough, I’m sure,” I say. Insecurity rolls off her in waves as she shrugs and I pat her knee. “It’s not hard to notice how in love with you he is.”

  “You’re sweet,” Fi says; the blush traveling down her neck and disappearing under the collar of her shirt. “I am not the most, uh, shall we say practiced when it comes to romantic things.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t know a thing about it either,” I inform her, like that is somehow supposed to make her feel better. “I’ve never even had a boyfriend—” I cut off abruptly and about punch myself. I don’t even remember where I was going with that statement. Surely she’ll think something’s wrong with me now. Centuries old and I can’t even withhold a relationship? Why am I giving her any sort of advice?

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” she says; snapping me out of my mini anxiety attack. “I haven’t really, either. Well, I thought I had a boyfriend, but he was, uh…well, he was using me to try and hurt my brother. So I kind of consider Flint my first boyfriend.”

  Relief floods in when she opens up and lets me see a bit of her she probably doesn’t show everyone. Then her words register and my mouth moves without permission from my mind. “What a dick!” I cry, and then blanch. “I’m sorry, that was crude. But, ugh!” I shake my head. “Jerk.”

  Fi roars with laughter and claps her hands together, amused by my outburst. “No, you’re right. There really isn’t another word for him.” Her jaw tightens and she gets a faraway look in her eyes.

  “You have Flint now,” I state, “and he’s not like that. I don’t think, anyway.”

  “No,” Fi says; her jaw loosening and forming a small smile now. “Flint is nothing like him at all. He’s protective and affectionate and sweet and — and I’m rambling!” she says; throwing her hands up. “I’m sorry, let’s talk about something else.”

  I smirk at her. “You can ramble all you like. That’s what girlfriends are for, right?” I look into my coffee and take a gulp; savoring the smooth richness on my tongue for a moment before looking back at her. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “Anything at all…other than men, that is,” Fi says.

  Once again, the aroma of coffee floods into my bedroom early in the morning the following day and pulls me from a dreamless sleep. The sun hangs low in the sky and the clock on the wall tells me it’s about seven-thirty a.m. I’ve never slept so soundly for so many hours in a row and I’m kind of stunned by it, so when there is a soft knock on my door I jump in surprise. “Yes?” I call.

  Fi pokes her head in the bedroom and smiles at me. She looks tired, her green eyes are shadowed with exhaustion and she has a mug of coffee clutched in her hand. There’s a dark spot on her arm that looks almost like a hand-shaped bruise surrounding her forearm. “Morning, Lulu,” she says before I can verbally fret over it. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to come talk to me and Eir again? About our dad?”

  “Sure,” I say; rolling out of the bed and following her out the door. We don’t go far, just down the hall and into the large family room on the same floor. Flint and Eirnin are both already there. Flint looks tired, but Eirnin looks downright fatigued. He’s holding a pint-sized coffee mug to his chest like one would a lover, and I force myself not to snicker about it. He is not an early
riser by choice.

  Fi collapses at Flint’s side and pokes him in the ribs when he yawns. He chuckles at her but says nothing, and I step over to the table and pour myself some of the delicious brown liquid before taking a seat by Eirnin.

  I know the Dolans are waiting for me to start up about their dad, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes off the bruise. This has to be how Fi felt before she knew about my brand when I first arrived. It’s like I can’t look at her without seeing the giant, blackened, angry mark around her arm. “Okay, you’re killing me with that thing,” I blurt in my usual non-ladylike manner of speech.

  Eir doesn’t seem to hear me, but Fi looks over at me in total confusion. Even Flint quirks a brow at me and I clear my throat; waving my hand in the general direction of her arm. “We all know Flint didn’t do that, and Eir’s hands are way too big — not that he would ever do that — I just…I mean…” God, no wonder my family always wanted to gag me. “What happened to your arm, Fi?”

  Fi shakes her head and looks down to see what I’m babbling about. When she sees the bruise and remembers, she flushes and looks back up to meet my eyes. “Oh, uh…Sean grabbed me,” she says; her eyes trained on Flint, who offers her a small smile even though his jaw is clenched so hard I can see the muscles working from where I sit.

  “What?!” Eir snaps in shock. “When did this happen? Why was I not told so I could punch him in his stupid face?”

  “Eir,” Fi starts tiredly and leans into Flint, who looks at the huge boy over Fi’s dark hair. There is a slightly wicked gleam in his eyes when he says, “I took care of it.”

  Eir still looks furious but a little relieved by Flint’s words. Part of me wants to ask what the hell he means by ‘took care of it’, but there’s another part, a larger part, that doesn’t want to know the lengths he would go to when someone threatens Fi.