Foresworn Read Online Free Page B

again, frowning over the mess I was making. “It’s a fact.”
    “Well, I don’t know about that. You certainly don’t look like crap—just like you’ve come a long way. You don’t live here.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I would have noticed you before.”
    Something in his tone made my stomach feel kind of weird and fluttery. I wasn’t sure I liked the feeling, so I frowned at him.
    He lifted a blond eyebrow. “Are you some kind of artist?”
    “No,” I drawled out this word, too, completely startled by his rapid change of subject. “Why would you ask that?”
    He pointed to the smears of ketchup.
    My face heated. “Really? You’d call that art?” I noticed one of the runes was still intact and hurriedly wiped it. “Looks like something a toddler would do.”
    “True. I’ve only seen babies do this sort of art before. Doesn’t mean they weren’t proud of it. Could mean you’re trying for that whole abstract genius sort of vibe.”
    Weirdo.
Too bad. He was ridiculously pretty, but I didn’t do weirdo.
    Not that I
did
anyone. Trust issues tend to slow down even the hint of a possible connection. Trust issues and a bloodsucker of a Norse goddess who could turn a kiss into someone else’s bad dream. I sat straighter, cleared my throat. “Look, your invitation was nice and all that, but I’m getting ready to leave town in a couple of minutes. I’m not worth your time.”
    “I very much doubt that,” he said, half under his breath, before giving me a brilliantly white smile. “Take care then.”
    Surprised he’d given up so easily, I watched him walk off—couldn’t help it. He moved in long bold strides, wearing his confidence like an invisible cloak. He looked at me once, over his shoulder, as he was leaving.
    That irritating fluttery sensation in my stomach stuck around after he left.
    “Wonder what music on the lake means,” I said out loud as I cleaned up the ketchup.
    The woman in the booth next to mine turned around in her seat. “Sorry. I couldn’t help but hear. Haven’t you heard of the music on Yellowstone Lake?” She pointed to the man who’d found the hair in his food. “We were camping just before this weird snow started. We camp up there a lot, but something was different this time. It was loud enough to wake us up from a sound sleep, and I swear I heard harps or something.”
    “They weren’t harps,” the man interrupted. “They were like wood flutes or something. And voices. Lots of voices.” He shuddered. “Creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
    “Well, it’s not as creepy as this snow,” the woman snapped. “I mean, I know it can snow early here but not this early.”
    “Dear, it’s snowing everywhere. It’s snowing in Mexico.”
    “I’m sorry.” This time I interrupted. “Did you say that you heard music at Yellowstone Lake?”
    She nodded. “It’s famous for the ghost music on the lake.”
    I shivered and hoped she attributed it to the cold and not the stomping my future grave just took. “Okay, thanks.” I stood, picked up the stuff I still needed to buy and made my way to the cashier.
    I’d driven from Florida to Wyoming, come all this way to find a boy who carried a god’s soul. A possible future warrior who would be a part of the battles of Ragnarok—when I’d never entirely believed in Ragnarok. But between this snow and the message my norn had just given me, it seemed that maybe I was here for something else.
    So one quick stop before the drive to help my sister Raven.
    * * *
    “Can’t miss the greenhouses was right,” I muttered as they came into sight. The cashier had known exactly what I was asking about the second I’d pulled the article out.
    “
Another one
,
eh?
Wish you people would leave that poor kid alone.
He’s not some kind of Harry Potter wizard
,
you know.
”
    If I’d actually cared what the gum-popping woman thought, I would have been embarrassed about asking about a kid from one of those crazy supermarket