the soft, warm blankets, the steady rhythm of Zayvion’s breathing, and tried to imagine I was at home, in my bed, with Zayvion’s arms around me.
I wasn’t ready to open my eyes. Because I knew as soon as I did, all the things that were going wrong, all the pain and fear and disasters would crowd in, and I’d have to take care of them.
What I wanted was a cup of coffee, something to eat, because damn, I was hungry, and a quiet place to catch my breath, even if for only a few minutes.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Shame said from somewhere on the other side of Zay’s bed. “Want coffee or a shower first?”
I was sure I was going to say coffee, but the idea, the memory of warm water on my skin got a soft moan out of me.
“I’d kill for a shower,” I mumbled into my pillow.
“That sounded like shower.” I heard him shift and walk to the bathroom.
The squeak of a handle and the rush of water against tile was enough for me to pull my head out from under the covers. I rested there, eyes still closed, wondering if I had the energy to make it all the way across the room.
“Need a hand?” Shame asked from right next to me. Boy could be a quiet thing when he tried.
I opened my eyes.
Shame must have recently taken a shower; his dark hair was still wet, dripping down on the shoulders of his gray T-shirt. I don’t think I’d ever seen him in anything but black. Gray looked good on him, and so did the faded blue jeans. It helped to relieve the sallow green of his skin, and the engulfing blackness of his eyes. Sure, he still looked like the winner of a yearlong insomniac marathon, but Terric was right—stubborn and focused.
“Hand?” he repeated. “Or do you think you can wander along on your own?”
Right. Conversation. I might want to try some of that. “Maybe some help.”
Turned out it took more than some help to get me to the shower. Sitting made me dizzy, but it passed quickly. Still, Shame didn’t take any chances. He tucked his arm around my waist and did most of the heavy lifting as I walked across the floor.
Once in the bathroom, though, I had gotten the walking thing down. Plus, I really needed to pee, and did not want Shame’s help with that.
“I’m good,” I said as I sat on the small bench along the wall.
“Are you sure?”
I patted the fluffy towel folded on the bench next to me. “I got it from here.”
“I wouldn’t want you to get in the shower and then pass out or some such. How about if I help you get out of your clothes? I’m an expert in platonic undressings.” He gave me that wicked smile.
“Give it a rest. I’m not going to strip naked in front of you, and I’d rather pee in private.”
“Half the injuries in a home happen in the bathroom. What kind of friend would I be to let you face that kind of danger alone? I mean, sure, you walked out of death, but this is a shower . ”
“Shame. Get out of my bathroom.”
He chuckled.“Oh, so that’s the way you show gratitude—and me the person who’s loaning you a bed, I might add.”
“It’s your mom’s place. She’s loaning me the bed.”
“Details,” he said, waving his hand. “I’ll be outside the door if you need anything.”
“You mean so you can laugh at me if I fall.”
“That too.”
He finally left the room, shut the door, and left me to my business. I used the toilet, then got out of my shirt and sweatpants. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and didn’t recognize my panties.
That, let me tell you, is a strange feeling. But since Maeve had a knack for attracting wounded magic users—or maybe just me—I had to assume she kept some basic supplies on hand.
I shivered in pleasure as the water caressed my skin and washed away the sweat, dirt, and stink that clung to me. My thoughts drifted to death, to my time there, which felt like a foggy dream, but clear enough I remembered what had happened and what I had done. With the cold emptiness in my chest, how could I forget?
I opened my left hand and
I wasn’t ready to open my eyes. Because I knew as soon as I did, all the things that were going wrong, all the pain and fear and disasters would crowd in, and I’d have to take care of them.
What I wanted was a cup of coffee, something to eat, because damn, I was hungry, and a quiet place to catch my breath, even if for only a few minutes.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Shame said from somewhere on the other side of Zay’s bed. “Want coffee or a shower first?”
I was sure I was going to say coffee, but the idea, the memory of warm water on my skin got a soft moan out of me.
“I’d kill for a shower,” I mumbled into my pillow.
“That sounded like shower.” I heard him shift and walk to the bathroom.
The squeak of a handle and the rush of water against tile was enough for me to pull my head out from under the covers. I rested there, eyes still closed, wondering if I had the energy to make it all the way across the room.
“Need a hand?” Shame asked from right next to me. Boy could be a quiet thing when he tried.
I opened my eyes.
Shame must have recently taken a shower; his dark hair was still wet, dripping down on the shoulders of his gray T-shirt. I don’t think I’d ever seen him in anything but black. Gray looked good on him, and so did the faded blue jeans. It helped to relieve the sallow green of his skin, and the engulfing blackness of his eyes. Sure, he still looked like the winner of a yearlong insomniac marathon, but Terric was right—stubborn and focused.
“Hand?” he repeated. “Or do you think you can wander along on your own?”
Right. Conversation. I might want to try some of that. “Maybe some help.”
Turned out it took more than some help to get me to the shower. Sitting made me dizzy, but it passed quickly. Still, Shame didn’t take any chances. He tucked his arm around my waist and did most of the heavy lifting as I walked across the floor.
Once in the bathroom, though, I had gotten the walking thing down. Plus, I really needed to pee, and did not want Shame’s help with that.
“I’m good,” I said as I sat on the small bench along the wall.
“Are you sure?”
I patted the fluffy towel folded on the bench next to me. “I got it from here.”
“I wouldn’t want you to get in the shower and then pass out or some such. How about if I help you get out of your clothes? I’m an expert in platonic undressings.” He gave me that wicked smile.
“Give it a rest. I’m not going to strip naked in front of you, and I’d rather pee in private.”
“Half the injuries in a home happen in the bathroom. What kind of friend would I be to let you face that kind of danger alone? I mean, sure, you walked out of death, but this is a shower . ”
“Shame. Get out of my bathroom.”
He chuckled.“Oh, so that’s the way you show gratitude—and me the person who’s loaning you a bed, I might add.”
“It’s your mom’s place. She’s loaning me the bed.”
“Details,” he said, waving his hand. “I’ll be outside the door if you need anything.”
“You mean so you can laugh at me if I fall.”
“That too.”
He finally left the room, shut the door, and left me to my business. I used the toilet, then got out of my shirt and sweatpants. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and didn’t recognize my panties.
That, let me tell you, is a strange feeling. But since Maeve had a knack for attracting wounded magic users—or maybe just me—I had to assume she kept some basic supplies on hand.
I shivered in pleasure as the water caressed my skin and washed away the sweat, dirt, and stink that clung to me. My thoughts drifted to death, to my time there, which felt like a foggy dream, but clear enough I remembered what had happened and what I had done. With the cold emptiness in my chest, how could I forget?
I opened my left hand and
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