“How about it, Trisk?” he asked, vowing he’d sabotage the dangerous idea into obscurity before it got anywhere close to being developed. “You could work in a real lab with real resources and people you don’t have to hide yourself from.”
Her lips were parted, and he followed her gaze to a grainy color photo of a lab get-together. She and Daniel were arm in arm, silly party hats on their heads. Rick had said he had a thing for her, and since the man looked like an elf, it was a good bet Trisk had a thing for him. It was hard to leave perfection.
“I know you miss us, Trisk. It won’t be school all over again. I promise.”
She was flushed, her gaze sharp as it fell on him. “I don’t trust you.”
“Fair enough. How about we go for coffee? You and me. We can talk about it.”
Trisk’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not telling you anything about my research.”
The harsh tone was again in her voice. Bringing back the softness would be a challenge—one he wanted to accept. “Fine.” Kal raised a hand for patience. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Why would today be different from any other day?” she said, and then her expression shifted. “What is that smell?”
“I’m sorry for what I did,” Kal said forcefully as Trisk strode over to the shelf where Orchid hid. “I was stupid and insensitive.”
“You spelled my hair blond,” she said, intent as she took first one book down, then another. “Do you have any concept of how embarrassing that was? I was ten, Kal.”
His lips curled up at the memory. He’d done it on a dare. She’d looked awful, worse than he’d ever imagined. Dark elves were built differently, and seeing those fair wisps on her only accented her strong features. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping the smile from his face when she turned. “I was a dumb shit.”
The dark look at the back of her eyes told him he was losing her, and he took a step forward. “Just one cup of coffee. I want to introduce you to someone.”
Orchid’s wings clattered a warning, and Trisk spun. “What did you bring into my lab?” she said, hands glowing again with loosed power.
“Orchid?” Kal called, seeing the dust at the ceiling. She’d flown to the light fixture, and he’d never even seen her move. “Trisk won’t hurt you. If she does, I’ll see her into the ground.”
“Like an elf could catch me,” Orchid said, and Trisk looked up, her face pale.
“What did you do?” Trisk whispered as she followed Kal’s attention to the sifting dust, clearly not knowing what it was. Hardly anyone did anymore.
Kal couldn’t help his smile when Orchid peered over the rim of the fixture, her wings folded prettily behind her head.
“Oh my God,” Trisk whispered, walking backward so she could see better.
“Promise you won’t throw a spell at me,” Orchid said, and Trisk nodded, almost falling when Orchid took to the air to come to a dust-laden hover before her.
“Where . . .” Trisk whispered, and satisfaction filled Kal. “Where did you find a pixy? I thought they were extinct.”
“Not yet,” Orchid said, her dust changing to a melancholy blue. “But the humans are trying very hard.”
Kal held out a hand, and Orchid flew to him, no doubt appreciating the warm perch and safety. “Orchid found me two years ago.”
“Yeah, right,” Orchid said with a snort. “That’s how it happened. I found you.”
“She’s my friend,” Kal said, always having felt that Orchid rescued him, not the other way around. “And if you tell anyone about her, even the enclave, I will hurt everyone you care about, Trisk.”
Trisk pulled her eyes off Orchid long enough to give him a dry look, as if begging him to try. “Who would I tell?” She held out a hand, and Kal felt a stab of jealousy when Orchid flew to her, hesitating only briefly before landing. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Orchid. You’re the most beautiful person I think I’ve ever met.”
Orchid flushed, the dust spilling from her shifting to a faint pink. “Thank you,” she said coyly, and then her wings drooped. “You haven’t seen any bucks then, huh?”
“Give the notes we left time to work,” Kal said, and Orchid grimaced impatiently. Kal breathed easier when she came back to him and landed on his shoulder.
“Notes?” Trisk asked, and Orchid brightened.
“We left honey and notes at every rest stop between here and Florida,” the pixy woman said. “Kal promised to help me find a pixy buck. You sure you haven’t seen any?”
Trisk shook her head, the softness returning. “I’m sorry, no. Are you hungry? I’ve got a grove of young pecan trees you can safely gather in.”
“She’s fine,” Kal said. “Orchid brought her entire winter stocks with her.”
Orchid rose up, eyebrows high. “Something fresh is always appreciated. All you have is a windowsill.”
Kal stifled his pique. The two of them bonding was not exactly what he had intended. “Then how about we go to a coffee shop and you can snitch whatever you want from the back?”
Spilling a bright dust, Orchid turned to Trisk, and they both stared at her, waiting. “So,” Kal said slowly. “Coffee with scones and honey?”
“Sure.” Trisk pointed to the door, and Kal almost sang as he scooped up his singed coat, beating the ash off it before taking his hat from a counter. Orchid immediately settled atop his head, and he carefully put his hat over her before going out into the hall to wait. Trisk would likely want a moment to shut everything down. He wasn’t so vain as to think he had brought that softness back. It had been Orchid. But trust in him would come. In time.