Caden glanced at the clock. Almost dinnertime. Ryn was cooking tonight if he recalled correctly. He had been looking forward to it, but he knew he wasn't going. Sadie would be there.

  Instead, he pulled on his shoes and unfolded his new cane. He left through the alternate entrance that Grace had shown him.

  Speaking of Grace, he already sensed the warmth of a human body. He followed it until he thought he was close enough to be heard.

  "Hey, Grace! Wait up!"

  Grace paused in her steps and waited for him to catch up to her.

  "What do you want?"

  "Wow," he clutched his heart. "Can't a guy try to make friends with the mystery woman squatting on government property?"

  His focus settled not on her face but on the yellow thing in her hands. She was peeling it apart with careful fingers. The citrus tang in the air sharpened.

  "You seem different today, new guy. You were as brooding as Gabriel when we met the other night. It was barely tolerable."

  He thought about his conversation with Sadie. The cane in his hand. The bitter words that had slipped out. In all honesty, he felt just as brooding as he had that night. The only difference was: tonight, he had the energy to put on his usual show.

  "Barely tolerable? That's my whole brand. Also... you know Gabriel?" Caden asked, curious.

  "Who doesn't know Deflector?"

  He considered calling her out on the use of his civilian name. Instead, Caden leaned on his cane, flashing a grin.

  "You know, you're kinda like a forest cryptid.”

  He added, without missing a beat: "It's hot."

  Grace blinked, biting into the lemon with no reaction. Caden simply waited, his usual smirk fading the longer he listened to her chewing.

  She finally swallowed and asked, "Did you mean that, bard, or do you just like attention? Either way, you're barking up the wrong tree."

  Caden gave Grace an amused glance. "Well, you’re not wrong about me liking attention. 'I am one who loved not wisely but too well'," he recited.

  "Are you quoting something again?"

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Caden shrugged. "I'm a bisexy theatre kid. Shakespeare quotes are to be expected and, dare I say, cherished."

  Grace tilted her head. "Bisexy, huh? And how does a blind man know he's sexy?"

  Caden’s heart skipped a beat. He took a step back, letting out a startled mash of words.

  Grace cut his stuttering off pretty quickly. "Cheap shot, I know. But I'm not as blind as you are, Caden. I can even see in the dark."

  Her tone was confident, laced with amusement. "And, no offense, but you aren't exactly subtle with that cane in your hand."

  "Well," he began, trying to regain his footing. He tilted his head, his sensitive eyes protesting as the clouds slid away from the setting sun.

  He smiled. "Same way I figured you're pale as King Hamlet and have blue hair. Vibes, residual vision, and... maybe something else. I can keep secrets too, cryptid."

  "Took you that long to think of a reply? Good guess, but my hair is black, not blue. And why Hamlet?"

  "Not just Hamlet. King Hamlet. Because he's a ghost. I'm saying you're white as a ghost, Grace. And black is close enough. Besides, you give blue-hair energy."

  He paused, his practiced facade sliding back into place piece by piece. "But to answer thy question sincerely, o curious maiden, I know I'm sexy because confidence is sexy.”

  "Confidence isn’t everything, bard."

  Caden leaned in slightly, his voice playful. "Good thing I've got a lot going for me," Caden said. "It's really unfair to everyone else. Confidence, skin like clay fired in the kiln of the gods themselves, the voice of an angel. Overall sexy combo. Lethal even. You should be honored."

  Grace let out a soft exhale of amusement. Caden took that as a win. It wasn't laughter, exactly, but it was something. Caden let the silence hang in the air for a moment.

  Caden heard a soft smell. The smell of citrus stung his nose.

  "Are you... melting the lemon?" Caden said, slightly horrified.

  "Yep," came the reply. "Efficient."

  "If you say so. You know, most people toss their citrus corpses. Compost it. Throw it in the trash. Not… that."

  Grace shrugged. ”Now I don't have to deal with it anymore.”

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  "If you have to."

  "Why a lemon? Is it related to the acid hands? Like you have to eat acidic stuff to fuel your powers?"

  "Huh. Never heard that one. But no. I just like lemons. Sometimes oranges," she said, volume dipping a bit softer. "But lately they're too sweet."

  "You must hate candy then."

  She didn't reply. Instead, Caden heard a rustle, followed by a slight, repetitive clicking sound. He squinted, tilting his head in an attempt to figure out what she was doing. She was holding something small, boxy, and only slightly less warm than her body heat. His best guess was a lighter. But she wasn't sparking it. Just playing with it.

  She suddenly stopped. Caden wasn't sure, but something about her body language made him wonder: had she assumed he wouldn't pick up on it? Or was the habit so ingrained she didn't notice she was clicking it until midway through?

  "Aren't you supposed to be blind?" Grace finally asked. "You notice too much."

  "Legally, yes. Spiritually... debatable. Anyway, if you're about to dramatically light a cigarette, that's probably my cue to dip."

  "Lighter's broken," came the reply. "And I don't smoke much."

  "But you keep it anyway," Caden observed. It wasn't quite a question, but an invitation to keep talking.

  "Nervous habit."

  "So, an edgier version of a fidget spinner. Got it."

  She tossed it towards him. Caden missed it entirely.

  "Fix it, bard," she commanded as he retrieved it from the grass.

  Caden picked it up, grateful for the distraction.