Well Traveled by Jen DeLuca

Author:Jen DeLuca [DeLuca, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

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• • •

“Weird energy today.” Sasha swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand as I took a break by her tent between patrons.

“I think it’s just hot.” That much was apparent. Sweat gathered at the small of my back and trickled down my spine, and I tried to ignore that. I could see it beading along Sasha’s hairline too. The sun was bright overhead, unrelenting, without a breeze to break the heat. “Maybe it’ll rain later.” Heat like this had to break eventually.

She shook her head. “More than that. Like . . .” She paused and her gaze softened, like it was turning inward. She did that kind of thing a lot, and I was used to it by now. “Something’s gonna give.”

“Yeah,” I deadpanned. “Like a thunderstorm.”

Her gaze cleared and she shook herself out of whatever mood she’d slipped into. “Maybe that’s all it is.” She pushed up her sleeves, even though the worn elastic made them slip down again almost immediately. “Who’s next?”

“Right this way.” I motioned to a waiting patron and escorted her to Sasha’s tent. Break was over, back to work.

But she had a point. The heat of the day was oppressive, sure. An aggressively hot morning that only got worse as the day went on. But it was more than that. It felt like . . . pressure. A kettle about to boil, a balloon about to pop. In between patrons at our little glade, I found myself peering up into the sky more than once, searching for storm clouds on this perfectly sunny day.

Something told me that when the storm finally came, it was going to be a big one.

“Hey, Lulu.”

My attention was brought back from the sky and to the world in front of me by the group of acrobats walking by. One of them—the bendy one I remembered from one of my first days as a Faire person—greeted me with a smile. I was pleasantly surprised she remembered me; we’d met once a few weeks ago, and these performers met a lot of people.

But her name completely slipped my mind, and I was mortified. I used to be so good at that when I worked gala events. “Hi . . . Delia, was it?” I shook my head almost immediately. That wasn’t it.

“Delilah,” she corrected with a pleasant smile. “Close enough.” We shared a slightly awkward laugh, because was it really? Getting someone’s name wrong was getting someone’s name wrong; no matter how close you were it was still wrong.

“How’s Josh?” I asked. “Wasn’t he hurt?”

“He’s good! It was a tricky few days there, but he healed up great.” A pleased smile bloomed over her face, and I felt like I’d unlocked some kind of friendship code. “Thanks for asking.” She glanced over her shoulder, where her fellow acrobats had left her behind, before turning back to me. “Between you and me, he was kind of a baby about it. You know how men are when they’re hurt.

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