to
rest?”
He looked around briefly. “No, it’s fine.
I’ll just find some place to bunk in.”
“So that while you heal, someone can kill
you? I don’t think so.” I grabbed onto him and he stilled, looking
down at me with those depthless brown eyes. I blinked up at him and
waited until he finally nodded, so I transported us to my
apartment, using the shadows.
When we landed, he stumbled a bit, almost
bringing me down with him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
I steadied him as best as I could. It was
awkward, him being around six feet tall and me a measly four and a
half. I helped him gracelessly to the couch in my apartment. I
shoved the couch into one of the corners of the room. The other
corner held my twin-size bed. I would put him in the bed, but
truthfully, it was my bed. And it was small, maybe less room than
the couch. He flopped down and leaned back, his eyes closed.
My apartment was small, really small with my
living room and bedroom sharing the same space. The lack of
material possessions gave the place the impression of being bigger.
There was nothing here but a twin size bed, a small couch and one
shelf filled with photography books. The books were the only hint
into my life; it was the only part of me I allowed to exist. Each
book was filled with photos taken from all over the world, ranging
from nature to families to famine and war.
They acted as a reminder about life, a
reminder I always used when I started to fall apart. El suggested
it and the collection grew. The older photos were paintings and
drawings, but after technology advanced enough, my collection of
photos started. Once in a while, I get a package from El with more
to add. I have yet to figure out how he always knows where I am. I
like to move around just as much as he does.
Next to the stack was a small kit of medical
supplies. Kay left it here the last time he dragged one of his
buddies to my apartment to fix him up. Apparently my apartment was
closer than his place from wherever they were.
I grabbed it and stood in front of Kalen.
His head was tilted back with an arm draping over his face.
Bruising grew on his neck, revealing imprints of a rather large
hand. I gently put my hand against the imprint to measure the size.
He went up against a giant, not a necromancer. What magical human
had hands that big? I gently grabbed his arm and lowered it so I
could see the damage.
We may be really hard to kill, even next to
impossible for some of us, but we can still hurt, get infections,
diseases, and colds. Though colds only amount to a couple of
sneezes and then all done. Our chances of recovering from them
ranged from seconds to only a matter of days, depending on the
being and the extent of damage. And some exceptions can take years
to heal, like fifty years. Or more. HIV and AIDS, psh, no problem.
Gone in only a couple of weeks. I didn’t know how it worked for a
slauve, if he could get infections or how quickly he healed, so I
cleaned up his wounds. I was methodical and careful—hell, I even
apologized when I accidentally bumped his nose while cleaning the
cut near his eyebrow. His nose bled again so I shoved a cloth up it
so he didn’t bleed all over. He didn’t heal nearly as fast as I did
or he had a whole lot of internal damage if his nose was a faucet.
We healed the worse wounds first.
“I’m surprised,” he finally spoke, his voice
nasally because of the cloth over his nose. It was already soaked
with blood. I smiled. Nasally voices are always funny to listen to.
Coming from him, even more so. He was a big guy after all.
“Why?” I asked carefully, trying to focus on
bandaging his cut rather than the heat his body radiated. He gave
off a comfortable heat. My smile faded away as words from Mother
Moon came to mind.
Find someone, Nyx. Someone to keep you warm
and be there when you need them the most. You’ll know when it’s
them because they will be the ones to always come back for you. And
when you do, don’t let them
rest?”
He looked around briefly. “No, it’s fine.
I’ll just find some place to bunk in.”
“So that while you heal, someone can kill
you? I don’t think so.” I grabbed onto him and he stilled, looking
down at me with those depthless brown eyes. I blinked up at him and
waited until he finally nodded, so I transported us to my
apartment, using the shadows.
When we landed, he stumbled a bit, almost
bringing me down with him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
I steadied him as best as I could. It was
awkward, him being around six feet tall and me a measly four and a
half. I helped him gracelessly to the couch in my apartment. I
shoved the couch into one of the corners of the room. The other
corner held my twin-size bed. I would put him in the bed, but
truthfully, it was my bed. And it was small, maybe less room than
the couch. He flopped down and leaned back, his eyes closed.
My apartment was small, really small with my
living room and bedroom sharing the same space. The lack of
material possessions gave the place the impression of being bigger.
There was nothing here but a twin size bed, a small couch and one
shelf filled with photography books. The books were the only hint
into my life; it was the only part of me I allowed to exist. Each
book was filled with photos taken from all over the world, ranging
from nature to families to famine and war.
They acted as a reminder about life, a
reminder I always used when I started to fall apart. El suggested
it and the collection grew. The older photos were paintings and
drawings, but after technology advanced enough, my collection of
photos started. Once in a while, I get a package from El with more
to add. I have yet to figure out how he always knows where I am. I
like to move around just as much as he does.
Next to the stack was a small kit of medical
supplies. Kay left it here the last time he dragged one of his
buddies to my apartment to fix him up. Apparently my apartment was
closer than his place from wherever they were.
I grabbed it and stood in front of Kalen.
His head was tilted back with an arm draping over his face.
Bruising grew on his neck, revealing imprints of a rather large
hand. I gently put my hand against the imprint to measure the size.
He went up against a giant, not a necromancer. What magical human
had hands that big? I gently grabbed his arm and lowered it so I
could see the damage.
We may be really hard to kill, even next to
impossible for some of us, but we can still hurt, get infections,
diseases, and colds. Though colds only amount to a couple of
sneezes and then all done. Our chances of recovering from them
ranged from seconds to only a matter of days, depending on the
being and the extent of damage. And some exceptions can take years
to heal, like fifty years. Or more. HIV and AIDS, psh, no problem.
Gone in only a couple of weeks. I didn’t know how it worked for a
slauve, if he could get infections or how quickly he healed, so I
cleaned up his wounds. I was methodical and careful—hell, I even
apologized when I accidentally bumped his nose while cleaning the
cut near his eyebrow. His nose bled again so I shoved a cloth up it
so he didn’t bleed all over. He didn’t heal nearly as fast as I did
or he had a whole lot of internal damage if his nose was a faucet.
We healed the worse wounds first.
“I’m surprised,” he finally spoke, his voice
nasally because of the cloth over his nose. It was already soaked
with blood. I smiled. Nasally voices are always funny to listen to.
Coming from him, even more so. He was a big guy after all.
“Why?” I asked carefully, trying to focus on
bandaging his cut rather than the heat his body radiated. He gave
off a comfortable heat. My smile faded away as words from Mother
Moon came to mind.
Find someone, Nyx. Someone to keep you warm
and be there when you need them the most. You’ll know when it’s
them because they will be the ones to always come back for you. And
when you do, don’t let them
Similar Books
