Mahogany and Teakwood

Chapter 3: Lilac

i wish you out of the woods

and into a picture with me

The Youngstown Grimms had made it sound like Logan possessed the arcane knowledge to cast some sort of protective spell over Virgil. He wasn't sure how he felt about this whole protection business being based instead on some innate fae-ness of Logan's. It took Virgil nearly the entire allotted thirty "digestion" minutes to muster the courage to bring it up again.

Honestly, with his constant anxiety, that wasn't so bad.

"So..." he drawled, as the two were putting on shoes to leave. "How is this gonna work, anyway?"

"This?" Logan pocketed his phone.

"Me, staying here, with you." Virgil gestured between them. "Like, do I have to be within a certain distance for your protection mojo to work?"

"For the time being, yes," Logan explained as they exited the apartment, and started down the stairs. "My long-term plan, however, is to make a charm that will shield you in my stead."

That didn't sound so bad.

"But I will be able to leave?" Virgil clarified. "Like, during the day or whatever?"

As much as he didn't mind sharing space with an absurdly gorgeous...if a bit standoffish...guy, being trapped inside day after day would drive him madder than an Unseelie Fae.

Logan made a noise of assent.

"The charm I intend to make will ensure that our arrangement does not overly restrict your freedom. Shelley informed me of your intention to attend Stetson University."

Virgil hummed.

Truthfully, art school had simply been the cover story to explain why Virgil would suddenly abandon Ohio and his Faire family. The whole Ren Faire circuit wasn't safe for him anymore, not even as far away as Florida; not when his master had already tracked him down once.

He still couldn't imagine what strings the Youngstown Grimms pulled to get him into a fancy, expensive-as-fuck university on such short notice, with only a GED to his name and no other transcripts...but they had, and they'd told him all his expenses would be covered.

Virgil was smart enough to recognize an opportunity when he saw it, and too selfish to turn it down.

"Oh, I suppose I should ask." Logan paused before they left the stairwell. "How sensitive are you to iron?"

Virgil shrugged.

"I do fine in cars, if that's what you mean. Most metal doesn't bother me if it's refined enough."

"You are fortunate." Logan absently thumbed one of his pointed ear tips. "I hypothesize that my sensitivity level lies somewhere between that of a true faery and an older changeling. My disguise glamour protects me somewhat, so driving around town is not a problem, but a cross country trip would be taxing."

Virgil winced. "That still sucks."

Logan only adjusted his glasses, and they left the stairwell for the overly bright, bleached parking lot.

Florida, ugh. Virgil squinted into the unrelenting sunlight. No wonder Logan's house brownie wears sunglasses. He would need to buy a pair of his own, and soon.

Logan unlocked a nearby blue Honda Fit, and as they climbed in. Virgil saw the way Logan's dark, graceful hands did not linger on either the door handle or the metal seatbelt buckle. Virgil's charged iPod and headphones lay nestled in his hoodie pocket, but for once, he decided not to tune out the world. Instead, he observed Logan's long fingers on the faux-leather steering wheel, the flex of muscle in his forearms, the crease between his eyebrows as he started the car.