Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception by Maggie Stiefvater Read Free Book Online Page B

reduced me to tears? “I—I’m just so tired of people telling me how talented I am. I’d like to be amazing even if I was the most untalented person in the world. All anybody ever sees when they see me is the stupid harp. They never see who I really am.”
    Luke reached up a thumb and gently swiped away the single tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. Who you really are is why you’re so good at everything. You won’t let yourself be otherwise. And that’s what fascinates me.”
    Part of me wanted his hand to linger on my face, but pride and embarrassment made me knock it away. Fragile wasn’t an image I liked to wear. “I don’t normally cry. I mean, unless I’m frustrated. I feel so—” I struggled for words and for dignity.
    He said softly, “Your ice cream’s melting.”
    Relieved, I turned back to my cone. We sat in silence for long moments, finishing our ice cream. Then I said, without looking at him, “If I still fascinate you, you can study me for a while. But I won’t be ‘practice.’”
    “Thank you.” He wrestled his keys from his back pocket and laid them on his leg, swallowing the last of his cone.
    Without thinking first, I asked, “Is that a key for every secret?” Immediately I feared I’d violated our unspoken agreement, and that he would vanish in a poof of smoke.
    But he didn’t seem concerned by the question. Instead, he smiled vaguely and said, “Possibly. How many keys do you have?”
    “Two.”
    “Is that how many secrets you have?”
    I thought about it. One for the clover on the bedside stand. One for the way I felt about Luke. “Yes.”
    His fingers toyed with his keys. “Would you like another?”
    I didn’t answer, but I watched him slide a key from his too-full ring. It was a small, heavy, old-fashioned key, with a spot of rust on one side. He glanced around as if someone might care what we were doing, and then pushed the iron key into my hand. Putting his lips right up against my ear, his breath hotter than the summer day, he whispered, “Here is another secret: I have no business being fascinated by you.”
    His lips almost formed into a kiss. Then he pulled away quickly and stood up. I was dizzy and had to close my eyes for a moment to reorient myself. I put the key in my pocket.
    Holding out a hand, Luke pulled me to my feet and led me to the other side of the car, his eyes distant and his face preoccupied.
    Before he shut the passenger door behind me, I briefly smelled a snatch of herbal fragrance in the summer air, quite apart from Luke’s odor or the usual asphalt stench of Dave’s parking lot. And then I realized I did have a third secret to go with my key: there was some sort of danger gathering around me. But I wasn’t afraid.

    “Oh, Granna’s here.” I peered over the dashboard as Luke pulled into the driveway. Her white Ford was so bright in the noon sun that I couldn’t look directly at it. “Mom must’ve invited her over for my birthday.”
    “Birthday?” Luke switched off the car. “Today?”
    “Actually yesterday, but I get cake today.” I tried to keep the hopeful edge out of my voice. “Want to stay for it?”
    “Hmm.” Luke got out of the car and came around to open my door. “I shouldn’t. It does sound terribly interesting, though. Will your awful aunt be here?”
    I frowned. “She’s already here. She’s doesn’t go home until next week. When her concert tour starts.”
    “Very posh.”
    I grunted in agreement, and then turned as movement caught my eye: Granna getting out of her car. She immediately caught sight of me and smiled. Then she dove back into her car.
    Luke looked puzzled. “Purse?”
    “Granna doesn’t carry a purse. She’s not that sort of grandmother. Probably presents.”
    Sure enough, Granna emerged holding an impossibly small, wrapped package in one hand and a gigantic one in the other. “Could you take one of these, Deirdre?”
    I jumped out of the car and hurried to take