Foxblood: A Brush with the Moon

Chapter Sixteen

“Hey, slow down cowboy. I still need to recover from last night,” I said, pushing him away. “Get dressed. It’s a beautiful day for a walk.”

Later, after a leisurely stroll up the river, we arrived at Lovell Towers. My frozen lungs felt starved of oxygen. I couldn’t feel the end of my nose, and my lips had shrivelled to half their size, but I felt invigorated by the exercise.

I dumped my overnight bag on the bed, and Sebastian went to run me a hot bath. There, I lounged luxuriously in the warming bubbles, and listened as muted voices began a whispered conversation in my bedroom.

I caught a small snippet.

“Patience, man, patience.”

“But when, Bro?”

“It’s not something that can be rushed, or we’ll both lose out.”

“It’s so hard.”

“I know but think of the prize.”

“Seb? Who’s that?” I called.

“No one exciting, only Connor,” Sebastian shouted back.

I tried to relax but I couldn’t. So, I climbed out of the water, emerging from the bathroom, still damp and wrapped only in a too small towel.

Connor’s eyes slowly travelled from my legs up to my face and grew wide at my appearance. He grabbed Sebastian’s arm. “Duuude!”

“I know. It shocked me at first too.”

In my hasty nosiness, I’d forgotten to get dry, and I realised what he must be seeing. I’d failed at the first test.

During the time it took me to dry off and get dressed for the evening, Sebastian recounted how Connor had followed Lara and Vincent over to Despots, where it was allegedly very quiet due to most of the town’s teenagers being at our place. There, they’d had a couple of drinks before Vincent drove Lara safely home, so the boys were able to rest easy in their bodyguard task.

Finally, I was ready.

“You look gorgeous,” Sebastian said.

“Why, thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself. I’ve always loved the sight of a man in a suit.”

I’d dressed simply in a midnight blue, knee length, belted dress and matching court shoes. My hair was loud enough. I didn’t need my clothes shouting out too.

Suddenly remembering my dream, I wandered over to the dressing table and gingerly opened the wooden box’s ornate lid, without really knowing what I expected to find.

Inside its confines lay a purple, velvet pouch with a drawstring top. I pulled it open and found that it contained an iridescent white, stone disc pendant on a silver chain, exactly like the one in my dream. I lifted the chain over my head and allowed the milky sheen of the stone to rest gently against the dark-blue material of my dress.