Page 33 of For the Strange and Surprising

“Does anything speak to you?”

Ada huffs. “I don’t hear any swords or bows trying to carry on a conversation with me.”

I rub my hand down my face. I should have expected her sarcasm.

“But there are a few weapons I’d like to play with,” she admits. “They’re so different from the guns my dad taught me to use.”

“We’ll experiment with toys during the next—”

She sighs, humor lacing her tone. “Shame.”

“That means something different to you?”

I study her expression as she tries not to smile. The flaring of her nostrils, the way her cheeks flex; it’s all a subtle glimpse of who she is, and that intrigues me.

“It means a few things.” She tips her head with a smirk. “I think I’d like to play with the spear next time.”

“Care to explain?” I wait by the doorway as she glances at the walls of stored weapons.

“Not really.” She wipes at her dry cheeks, eyes glimmering playfully but lips turned down. “I’m still mourning my vibrator.”

“I meant the spear, Ada.” I give her half a grin as I confess, “You know there are other people from Earth who live here, right? I may be ignorant to some of your slang, but I understand more than you think.”

The skin between her brows creases as her gaze narrows. She opens her mouth to speak before snapping it shut. I cast a glance at her, wondering how she’ll reply. She remains quiet and perplexed.

Picking at her wasn’t something I should have done. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have told her the truth hours ago. But I couldn’t bring myself to ruin the fun. I enjoy her comments and their double meaning and not knowing what will come out of her mouth next.

Most of the Mongrel women I know aren’t crass or even upfront about their feelings. The conversations I’ve had with Ada today have been a welcome change.

I want to touch her again, just a simple hand against her back to see how she interprets it, but I don’t. Not until we pass the first group of rowdy guards. Then I press my fingertips into her hip, leading her closer to me and away from their rough-housing.

Ada tenses, and I begin to pull back before she peeks around me. She surveys the treeline across the path that leads to her room. The discomfort she feels isn’t about me.

I angle my head to disguise her blatant staring. “No one is there.”

“How do you know?” Her gaze flickers to mine, dark and questioning.

“I’ll look around the area after searching your room.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t see how anyone could hide in there.”

“We’ll see. You can wait outside the door.”

“Not fucking likely,” she mutters, following behind me with a steady stream of curses.

I stalk into Ada’s room, listening to her colorful protests while I try not to smile. It’s not something I’d typically do, but even the slightest change in her behavior bothers me. I check for her mysterious stalker, though I don’t know where anything was before we left.

“Did you check the drawers, too?” she sasses, though she doesn’t glance up at me.

She glares out the window, watching and waiting.

I open the door, leaning out of her room to estimate how far away my apartment is. The block of rooms attached to hers were emptied for renovations, leaving only a handful of people nearby.

“Do you see where the path splits this building from the next?” I point to her right.

She steps out to get a better view. “Yes.”

“My apartment is the fourth, Ada. The whole block is filled with guards. Not all the rooms around you have occupants, but Ecaeris has been staying in the farthest one on your left.”