Page 107 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Twodayslater,Igot my period. At first, I was ecstatic. I’d almost killed myself in preventing pregnancy, but it had done the trick. No baby for me! Yes, yes,yes! Then I realized I’d have to suffer my period without the aid of motrin or tampons—because I’d been too scatterbrained when I was packing for my new life to think of anything but death. I tried padding my underwear with leaves, but they absorbed little, leaving me damp and belligerent. I spent the next two days moaning in the back of the wagon, my insides a mass of tangled snakes. The mere sound of Pete’s voice made me want to strangle him, and even sweet Sionna was like a fly buzzing around my head.
On the third day, my condition had rubbed me ragged, and I got in a fight with a tree.
In my defense, the tree started it. I’d merely been gathering more leaves for another makeshift maxi-pad when the great elm branch I’d been plucking sprung back and whacked me in the mouth. My lip smarting and blood welling, I’d screeched like a crazy woman and throttled the assailing limb.
Little did I know, but on the other side of that tree was a fairy ring of overgrown toadstools—where a troupe of mini-fae dwelt. I didn’t spy their blanching faces until Pete bounded over at my outburst and wrangled me.
“Sorry to have bothered you fine folks,” he apologized to the trembling teacup fae. To them, I must’ve appeared a roaring giant there to rampage their peaceful village.
Pete shoved me toward the road. “She was stung by a cankerwasp, ken.”
“Ohhh,” the gnomes chimed together in comically nasal tones, nodding heads topped by leafy hats.
“We’ll be shoving off.” Pete bowed his head. “Have a fruitful day.”
I stomped back to the wagon and whirled on him when he met me there. “I don’t need you to make excuses for me, thank you very much.”
Bob brayed at my tone as Pete glowered. “I didn’t hearyouvoicing your reasons for acting absurd.”
I shoved my bangs from my eyes, wanting to rail at the wind, and stomped away to crawl back into a ball of misery in the wagon bed.
“Won’t you at least tellmewhat’s chafing your arse?” he growled, following me. “Aye, you’ve sworn to vex me until we reach Gentian’s throne room, but you’re taking your threat to unholy lengths.”
Biting my tongue on a hateful rejoinder about which of us was more unholy, I grabbed the ledge of the wagon bed and yanked myself up. “What’schafing my arseis none of your business,” I mimicked him, popping up to stand in the bed. “So, just head back to your place beside Bob, and let’s get moving.”
Pete arched a brow, staying put.
Sionna blinked up at me from our nest in the wagon bed as I clumped over her. I stopped at the front of the wagon and clapped my hands at our driver. “Go on, Bob! Move out!”
Bob didn’t listen. Instead, he peered back with soulful black eyes and bared a set of long, yellowed teeth. He blared something along the lines of,you ain’t my boss.
“Bob won’t be budging an inch until I give my say so,” Pete said. “So, unless you’d like to make camp in the village of Fern Gnomes you’ve scared the piss out of, you’d best explain your ill humor, Shorty.”
“Don’t call me that!” I snarled, then clapped again, stomping. “Come on, Bob! Gentian’s awaiting! We don’t want to be late!”
Rolling his eyes, Pete exhaled and set a bear paw on the wagon ledge.
“Goddamnit!” I barreled back over to him, but he remained unmoved by my temper.
Sionna, however, cowered into our grassy mattress.
“Would you stop being a jerkwad and tell Bob to move?”
“When you stop being a raving b—”
I swooped down and clutched him by his jerkin collar, heat flaring up the length of my neck. Surprise glinted in Pete’s widening eyes, his lips curling at the corners.
“Whatwere you about to say?” I hissed into his handsome, bearded face.
“I was about to use an apt term for someone behaving as you are,” he replied, seemingly fascinated by the sparks doubtless flying in my eyes. “If you don’t like to hear it, then comport yourself better.”
Who made him the manners police? He sounded like Aunt Aylie.
“Fuck you.”
His smirk broadened into something rakish and alive. “Thanks for the offer, darlin’. Can I get a rain check on that?”
His response was better than a pinch. I jerked away from him.
