Chapter 10

 

 

 

 

Nothing hurt him like his lady’s pain. He’d suffered during the trials and the competitions, not just physically but mentally and emotionally. The physical strain of the contests sometimes hurt, but the thought that he might fail was a great mental strain. And the thought that his Gaia could end up in the arms of another, never even knowing he existed, that was almost enough to break Sparrow a time or two. He’d had to win. There was no other option.

None of that pain was a fraction as awful as what he experienced now, his goddess’ pain seeping into his own mind and heart.

When he heard the water come on and knew he had at least a few minutes before she would be finished, Sparrow sat on the couch and crossed his legs, letting everything clear from his mind but Chloe’s pain and the woman who had just caused so much of it.

He kept part of his consciousness in Chloe’s living room, so that he could snap back into himself if she unexpectedly needed him for anything. Otherwise, he’d be fully back before she was finished.

Sparrow reached out with his mind, his power, searching for the vile woman who’d just been at Chloe’s door. Chloe might not approve of what he was doing, so…he simply wouldn’t tell her.

What was the point of being a half-demon fox if he couldn’t make a little mischief now and then?

He saw her blue hat first, and the pale yellow spray of flowers on one side. As he got closer, he focused on those silk flowers and let his lightning coil outward to barely brush one petal.

The woman flinched as if he’d slapped her. She stood next to a long, black limousine, a man in a suit with the black driver’s cap holding the door open for her. She’d either just stepped out or was about to step in.

“Ma’am?” the driver said.

“I’m fine, Bernard. Just a sudden chill.” She didn’t smile at him. He was clearly beneath her.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He closed the door as she took a few steps away from the car. Sparrow widened his view—she was about to go into a huge stone building with a large red awning. A bank.

Sparrow followed her inside, and took in the man who rushed to greet her in his tailored suit, his upper lip slightly damp with sweat. He was intimidated by this woman.

That would make what Sparrow was about to do even more fun.

He let his power coil out again to touch her hat. She gasped and spun, looking around for whatever had startled her.

“Mrs. Greyson? Are you—”

“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s just get down to business. I want to cash out a number of CDs and…”

Sparrow didn’t worry about following their conversation. He wasn’t interested. He followed the woman into the bank manager’s office, and once she sat, Sparrow extended his power and touched her on both shoulders.

She bolted up from her chair with a shout. The manager rushed around his desk.

“What’s going on here?” she shouted while the manager tried to find some explanation. When she explained the shock she’d gotten, and he tried to say that maybe it was static electricity, she looked around and pointed out the marble floor and the leather chair.

“Where exactly would static build up?” she said, her voice harsh. She plopped into the chair in a most unladylike way, as if frustration had stripped away her social graces. “Can we just handle these CDs as quickly as possible?”

“Of course, Mrs. Greyson. I have the paperwork ready as you asked.”

Sparrow was patient, though his fox was doing somersaults, eager for the finale. When she started signing page after page of documents, Sparrow gently uncoiled heat and flame and brushed the pale-yellow flower on her hat so gently, that she didn’t flinch. She tilted her head for a moment, but went back to signing.

And then he waited for the spark to catch hold.

“Mrs. Greyson!” The manager rounded the desk and tried to bat the burning hat off her head, but she apparently had it hair-pinned in place. Every tug pulled at her and made her yelp. The top of the hat caught fire from the flowers, but she was more worried about the man trying to pull her hair out by the roots, batting at his hands and screaming while he shouted “fire, fire!” in an attempt to get someone to help him.

Sparrow hoped someone pulled out a fire extinguisher and sprayed her right in the face.

She finally felt the heat or otherwise realized what was happening and started screaming, smacking at her own head to put out the flames.

Sparrow set her tiny black purse on fire. It was too good to resist.

By the time the manager had wrenched the hat free of her hair and put it out, another bank employee was stomping her purse in an effort to put out the flames, and she stood there with her arms outstretched, black mascara streaking her cheeks.

Before Sparrow left, he hovered near the ceiling and let his heat coil around the fire safety sensor.

The woman screamed again as the alarm blared and the sprinkler system in the bank came on, drenching everyone.

His fox rolled on its back, yapping happily. Sparrow returned to his body, just in time to catch the shower turning off.

He went into the kitchen to see about making his goddess some lunch. Food often helped the moods of the people on earth, and until they’d consummated their union and restored her power, perhaps it would help her feel better, too.