The Lightning-Struck Heart (16 page)

And that was a change of subject I almost couldn’t follow. “Huh?”

“Todd,” he said slowly, as if I was an idiot. “Your fiancé.”

My eyes bulged. “My what now?”

The scowl deepened. “Your future husband. It was all over the news.” He looked angry, and I had no idea why.

“I’m not getting married!”

“Then why would they print that?”

“Because the freedom of press has gone too far in this country? I don’t know!”

“They can’t just print whatever they want!”

Poor, sweet foolish child. “Uh. Yeah. They can. It’s called sensationalism. They were calling you dashing and immaculate!”

“I
am
dashing and immaculate!”

“Aha!” I cried. “I knew you did that shit on purpose. Oh my
gods
. That’s so embarrassing for you. My impression was so right it’s not even funny. I am going to tell all your fan clubs.”

He grinned and it was evil. “And how do you even know about the fan clubs?”

ABORT. ABORT. ABORT.
Because he didn’t need to know that I went to one
once
while in disguise. That was just ridiculous. And creepy. “Gods. It’s late. Look at the time. Actually, I can’t because I don’t have my watch. I assume it’s late. So.”

“It’s barely ten.” He took a step toward me.

“Late,” I insisted. “I’m tired.
Some
one decided to keep me out till the wee hours of the morning last night.”

“You were attacked,” he said, “by Dark wizards.
Again
.”

“It doesn’t happen as often as you might think,” I said, taking a step back. “I just have one of those faces that people want to shoot things at.” And I immediately made that dirty in my head.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Seriously,” I said, eyes wide. “You’re not even Queen Sass anymore. You’re like the God of Sass. You created all the sass the world knows. Why don’t more people know this? Instead of
dashing and immaculate
, they should be describing you as
sassy and bitchy
. I am going to write a letter to the editor first thing in the morning. It must be reported on immediately.”

“Maybe you can bring that up at the next fan club meeting too.”

“Hey! I don’t even know what you’re talking about, okay? I
hear
things when I’m on my travels. I don’t even
care
about stuff like that.” I cared so hard. I had actually gone three times to the fan club meeting. They knew me as Mervin. I had a backstory and everything. It was my turn to bring muffins next time. I was considering poppy seed. Or cranberry. Fun.

“So you’re not marrying Todd?” he growled, taking another step toward me. “That’s probably a good thing. He was going to kill you with ducks and blueberries.”

“I’m
not
. Trust me on that. I like his ears but really, that only goes so far.”

He grimaced. “You and his
ears
.”

“They stuck out. I thought they were adorable.”

“If that’s your qualifier for a relationship, then you’re screwed.”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” I said, trying to grin salaciously. I think I missed the mark and went directly to constipated.

He grunted and closed his eyes. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not? Gary says I’m a prude. I don’t think I am. I can talk about stuff like that. It’s not
that
hard. Or. Well. It could be. Ha! See? I just made a sexual pun, and everyone knows that sex puns are the highest form of humor. Fuck you, Gary! Sex and fucking and balls!”

Ryan actually took a step back at that one, which was good because somehow, he’d gotten really close. “Sam,” he hissed.

“Hmmm. Maybe
you’re
the prude. Dicks and fornication.”

“Sam!” He was turning red again, and my
heart
.

“What!”

“Don’t marry Todd,” he said. “When you marry, it should be for love. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

And that hit me right in the gut, because it couldn’t possibly be any clearer than that. “Ah,” I said through the blood roaring in my ears as I took a step back. “Congratulations.”

“For what?” He looked confused.

“For marrying Justin. You must love him very much. Right? That’s what you just said.” And I knew he was my cornerstone then because I wanted nothing more than to blow something up with a few choice words, but was able to stop myself. Hurray for personal growth and damning realizations.

He said, “Sam.” It was strained.

“What?”

“I don’t….” He looked away.

The mood had changed very quickly. “It’s okay,” I said brightly. Probably too bright. “When I get back, I’ll figure something out.” And, well. I hadn’t meant to say that.

So of course he pounced on it. “Get back?” he asked, snapping his gaze to mine.

“Uh. Yes? I mean. I’ll be going out again. For a while.”

His face went carefully and explicitly blank. “Oh. For how long?”

For as long as it takes to no longer hurt to have you this close.

I shrugged. “Don’t know this time. Will probably be awhile. Morgan’s sending me… away.”

“Where?”

“Sorry, Ryan. Doesn’t work like that. Wizarding business.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m the Knight Commander of the Castle Guard. You live in the castle. Therefore, you’re my business.”

That irritated the fuck out of me. “Even the
King
doesn’t always get to know what Morgan and I do,” I said. “Maybe you should remember that,
Knight Commander
.” Which was a lie. I pretty much told the King everything. Morgan would just smack me upside the head while the King laughed at me.

“And how long will it take for you to get captured again?” he said. “What then? Wait until I ride in to rescue you?”

I laughed at him. “Oh fuck off. You’ve never had to rescue me. Not once. As a matter of fact, if anything, I rescued
you
last night. You just stood next to me, all dashing and immaculate. Remember? While I had all the magic?” I wiggled my fingers at him.

And his eyes glazed over as he watched my fingers and said, “Ungh.”

I frowned. “What’s wrong with you?” I didn’t think I’d accidentally cursed him.

“Nothing,” he said in a rough voice. “Just. Lightheaded. It’s fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

And then we just stood there.

I didn’t know if we were fighting or not. I thought I was mad, but I also thought I was really turned-on. I wondered if those were sort of the same thing. And while I
knew
why I was turned-on (I mean, hello, proximity: he was like
right there
and I could
smell
him), I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I was supposed to be mad about.

“These are very confusing times,” I said.

“No shit,” he muttered.

“No cursing,” I scolded him. “You’re a knight. You don’t get to do that. You gave up that right when you swore your oath to the King. You have to lead by example now. So say stuff like ‘fudge toast’ and ‘mothercrackers’ instead of ‘shit whore’ and ‘fuck storm.’”

“I can assure you I have never felt the need to say shit whore or fuck storm in my life,” he said.

I gaped at him. “But you just
did
. There are little
girls
in your fan clubs! They are young and impressionable.” And they could be very mean, I knew from the eight times I’d gone to the meetings. Well, one of them was mean, anyway. She told me that I obviously knew nothing about Ryan Foxheart because his favorite color was burgundy and he one day dreamed of owning a sheep farm. Her name was Tina and she was a bitch, and I hated her stupid face. His favorite color was
scarlet
, and he wanted to open a
bakery
.

(Really, none of that was true. It was just the sort of things we discussed in the meetings.)

He grinned at me again, and the butterflies in my stomach turned into dragons and laid waste to my innards.

“Not that I would know,” I said quickly. “I just assumed that only little girls would go to those things. Right? Because anyone else would just be weird.” Very weird. Also, I’d been to sixteen meetings and I was thinking of running for fan club treasurer next time. There was already a girl in place named Deidre, but I would destroy her in the next round of elections. She was twelve. I was a wizard. I couldn’t lose. “Look. This has been… fun.” Lie. This had been nerve-racking and I needed to go masturbate. “But I have to go. I’ve got stuff to do before I head out again.” Masturbate. “Wizard stuff. Like… secret wizard stuff.” Masturbate.

Ryan’s smile faded. “You’re really leaving?”

I sighed. “It’s… complicated. It’s better this way.”

“For who?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said quietly. “Ryan. Look. It’s…. For what it’s worth, I’m glad we’re friends now. Right? We’re friends?”

He looked down at the ground. “Yeah, Sam. We’re friends.”

This made me happy, even if it felt bittersweet along its edges. “Good.”

He looked back up at me, and there was something akin to desperation in his eyes. “You just… you have to come back. Okay? You have to.”

I was shocked. “I will? Er. I will. I’m going to be the King’s Wizard, after all. To your husband.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know. When will you leave?”

“Soon,” I said. “A week. Maybe a little more.”

He nodded tightly and turned to walk away. He made it a few steps before he stopped again. He looked up toward the stars above and I followed his gaze.

He said, “I wish—”

And I said, “Don’t.”

He turned back to look at me.

Everything hurt. “You can’t,” I managed to say. “You can’t say your wish out loud. Not when you look up at the stars. If you do, it won’t come true. And I can’t… I can’t allow that to happen to you.”

He watched me.

I watched him back.

Finally, he looked back up to the stars and closed his eyes, and I knew he was making his wish. I hoped that whatever it was, that it would one day come true.

When he was done, he opened his eyes and I couldn’t look away.

But that’s okay because neither could he.

And right then, I hated that we were friends.

It was easier to watch him leave when he didn’t know I existed.

Turning Noses into Dicks and Other Stories

E
IGHT
DAYS
later, Morgan said, “I’m sending you north.”

I paused from where I’d been scribbling in my Grimoire. “Oh?” was all I could think to say. Because this wasn’t just north. I knew he meant
north
. Which, to be perfectly honest, was intimidating as all fuck.

He must have seen that flicker of fear across my face because he shook his head. “No. Not for that. Not yet. You’re not ready, Sam.”

Thank the gods because he meant
north
.

The cold lands from where my father had come.

Where Morgan’s mentor resided in a castle made of ice.

Randall. The scariest motherfucker ever.

Morgan rolled his eyes. “He’s not that bad.” Like he could read my mind.

“Not that
bad
?” I wheezed. “He’s the one who decides who moves on from apprenticeship by conducting the Trials! He’s the one who can make or break my future. Oh, and there’s the little fact that he
hates every fiber of my being
.”

“He doesn’t
hate
you, Sam. I’ve told you that a thousand times.”

“Uh, pretty sure he does. I don’t blame him, either. You were there the first time I met him. You stood
right there
when I accidentally turned his nose into a penis. He couldn’t figure out how to reverse it for
three days
. And he was officiating a wedding the
next
day. He had to marry a bride and groom with a dick nose! He told me that one day he’d have his revenge. Oh gods. What have I done to you? Do you really hate me that bad? Did I disappoint you so badly that you want to subject me to the absolute worst thing you could possibly think of?”

Morgan was trying hard not to laugh, the bastard. “It could have happened to anyone,” he said. “Granted, it happened to
you
, which is not all that surprising.”

“I was
fifteen
,” I said with a scowl. “Of
course
I was thinking about dicks. You know what? No. I blame you. Puberty was an awful, awful time, and you made me do magic. This is all your fault.”

“Trust me,” he said. “I tell myself that every day.”

“Har, har. No. I’m not going. I’ll go live in the woods and become the scary story that parents tell their children about. Be careful, little Tommy. Old Man Sam lives in those woods. If you don’t eat your vegetables, he’ll come when you’re sleeping and steal your feet.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t the first thing you’d turned into a penis.”

“Ugh.”

“Like that turkey.”

“Shut up.”

“Or the King’s wine glass.”

“Do you remember the look on his face? I thought he’d literally shit himself.”

“Or the—”

“I get it,” I snapped. “I had dick on the brain.”

“I love our little talks.”

“You’re really going to make me go, aren’t you?”

“It’ll be good for you,” Morgan said kindly. “Give you some time to clear your head.”

“With the wizard of all wizards. Like, the
head
wizard.”

“Yes, Sam.”

I had to make sure. “I’m not ready. For the Trials.”

“I know. And that’s not what you’re going for. At least not yet. Hopefully, that’s still years away.”

Randall was the oldest wizard in existence, and I swear he was hanging on just so that he could one day have his revenge against me. Morgan said he was at least six hundred years old, that the amount of magic in him kept him from passing through the veil, but I knew otherwise. I was going to get there, he was going to turn me into a giant dick, and then he was going to die, cackling as he did so.