Free Matters of Circumstance by Ashley Andrews Page A

woman blinked. “That bad?”
    “Oh yeah. I’m always cold.”
    “Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, placing her coffees back down on the counter. The sight made Farrah’s heart sink—she was preparing to stay for a while!
    “It’s not that bad. I’m used to it.”
    “Oh, well, if you say so…” The woman trailed off doubtfully.
    “Farrah, I have orders for you,” said Shellie.
    Farrah was so grateful for that rescue she could have kissed her. She pretended to snap back to attention and said to the woman, “Sorry, I’ve got to get back to work now.”
    “No, I’m sorry for keeping you,” said the woman hastily, waving her hands.
    Farrah turned away and started fixing drinks again, but out of the corner of her eye she saw that the woman had yet to move. It was sort of like the first time she met Neal, only much more gut-wrenching and ominous. The hair on the back of her neck kept prickling with the force of the gaze resting on her. Adrenaline began slipping into her bloodstream, making it so hot it was cold—or so cold it was hot, she couldn’t tell.
    As she was passing the next two orders out to their purchasers the woman asked her, “So you seem like an honest girl. Have you noticed anything weird in these parts lately? Ever?”
    “What, like hauntings or something?” said Farrah, playing stupid.
    “No, I’m talking about tangible weirdness—like strange deaths or diseases.”
    Farrah forced herself to blink and look as if that question had bewildered her. “Um, no? Should there be?” she said slowly.
    “Oh, I don’t know,” she woman said with a dainty shrug. “Nobody in here seems to know about it, but we heard rumors about that sort of thing earlier. I just wanted to make sure they really were rumors, that’s all.”
    She spoke convincingly, but Farrah still didn’t trust what she was hearing. In her mind the words were shrouded in a dark haze that made her blood jump and her heart pound in her ears.
    The woman knew Farrah wasn’t being truthful with her. She knew, and the real question was not how—Farrah knew she wasn’t the best liar—but rather why she and her husband/partner were here. Did they know about her and Neal’s wings? Were they the ones that somehow helped it to happen? Were they here to get rid of the freaks once and for all?
    Farrah didn’t know.
    She forced herself to smile anyway, and try not to make the expression too fake. “Okay. Glad I could help.”
    The woman smiled back in kind. “Yes,” she said as she picked her coffees back up and turned towards her companion. “Thank you very much.”
    For her part, as Farrah went back to work she had to work to control her shaking.

Chapter 7
     
    “I’m telling you, you’re overreacting.”
    “Well that’s funny, because just yesterday you were telling me I’m always under-reacting.”
    “Farrah—” Neal stopped himself and let out a hard breath. If they weren’t at school right now she was willing to bet that his wings would be snapping open and shut in agitation. When he had visibly calmed himself down he said, “I wasn’t trying to say that you always under-react. Looking back it probably sounded like that, but that wasn’t what I meant. I was only trying to say that it sounded like you were a little too trusting with me.”
    “And now I’m paranoid,” she said, aggravated and not knowing exactly how she should take this sort of response. “It doesn’t sound like you can make up your mind.”
    “Look, that’s just what it seems like to me. I can’t really help it if that’s the way I feel.” Then he shot her a significant look. “Just like you can’t help being suspicious of these people. They’ve done nothing wrong, Farrah. At least admit that.”
    “They haven’t, it’s just—I can’t even describe it. It’s their aura or something. I don’t like the vibes they give me.”
    Suddenly Neal’s serious attitude was obliterated by a burst of laughter. “You should hear yourself.