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Book Two in the Darien Grace Chronicles
"I couldn't hear the music. I knew that it was pulsing all around me, I could feel it vibrate through the air, but I couldn't hear it. I hadn't been able to hear it for a while now. I ju...
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Harry Styles
Leala and Jas had followed Darien and her new foreign friend back to the main stage. While the youngest McKenney worked to strap her sister into the final piece of her costume, the little girl from before stood between Darien and her father chattering away in a rapid stream of French. Darien smiled adoringly down at the child, nodding and laughing. All the while her father looked on.
My hands clenched tighter around my clipboard displaying the schedule for the day. Lee sidled up next to my position by the heater at the edge of the stage.
"Do the McKenneys have family in from France?" I asked, unable to look away from the trio.
"Hmm?" Lee asked, turning to look in Darien's direction. Her expression shifted when her gaze landed on the man. "Oh, no. They're not family."
When she didn't bother to elaborate further, I gritted my teeth. "They seem close. Are they old friends of the family?"
"No. Barney met Nettie in France; the kid's the reason our girl is even playing again," Lee said, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.
"And the man? Are they..." I couldn't even bring myself to say the word. It was wrong. They couldn't. No.
"Honestly? I'm not sure. There's something stirring there, but she's changed a lot—more cautious than before." Lee shrugged. Her answer did nothing to quell the nausea rising inside of me. He couldn't—they couldn't. Not when she was finally speaking to me again.
"I need more time. She can't—"
"She will do as she damn well pleases, Harriette. If Zayn's what she needs to get back on her feet, then you'll step the fuck back." Lee's tone was dangerous, protective even. Darien wasn't the only one who had changed.
"Can you at least give her something for me?" I asked, thinking back to the gift I'd stashed in the boot of Professor Adaire's car.
Leala sighed, a knowing glint shining in her grey-green eyes. "Give it to me after the Festival, and I'll see about passing it along."
"Thank you."
Leala punched me once in the shoulder before heading off to stand with Jas a few feet in away. Darien and the band began to warm up, testing the notes and adjusting as necessary. The light streaming in through the opening of the tent caught the gold spread across her skin and wound into her hair. It seemed to follow her as she played, illuminating her very being, transforming her. My heart pounded in my chest, my lungs constricting. I swallowed and forced myself to look away. I glanced down at my clipboard, furrowing through the attached papers.
"Pourquoi tes pieds sont-ils si grands?" (Why are your feet so big?) I looked down at the soft voice. The little girl—Nettie—stood in front of me, her index finger pointing down at my feet. When I didn't answer, she continued to babble away in French. Her father came up behind her, shaking his head in obvious amusement. A hot pang of jealousy rushed through me and he gave me a startled look. I knew I was glaring and that he would have no inclination as to why, but I couldn't pull the scowl from my face.
