am confident.”
Bellezza threw herself at the bars. Alexia leapt in alarm. She cursed herself for the reaction, taking several seconds to overcome the agony.
“I am tired of trying,” Bellezza pled. “Please let me go!”
He touched the tip of her little nose. “You will go free—” Her face brightened. “—but not today.”
The girl’s countenance fell.
“I think you are making progress. In fact,” his unrelenting eyes finally turned on Alexia, “she is proof.” The kindness had gone. His glare hung heavily on her, like dark storm clouds after a glimpse of perfect sunbeams.
He rounded to her cage, nodding for Lester to loose the bars. His grimace deepened as he neared her side—not so much a grimace as a darkening of the eyes. She wanted to melt into the floor and cease to be.
“Some ointment, Lester.”
The key-bearer exited.
He hesitated only briefly, flashing an agonized scowl as he took a seat. Alexia wished she could escape. He was disappointed the fall hadn’t killed her. Now he’d have to do it himself.
Their gazes met. She dove wholly into his, consumed by the need to be wrong.
“Well done, Alexia. You found me.”
25
Healing
His words ushered forth so quietly, Alexia wondered if they’d penetrate Bellezza’s corner. His glare clashed with the pain in his expression. She held still, searching his face for any hint that their reunion brought him the slightest joy.
His head shook. “This may well be the least intelligent thing you have ever done.”
She frowned. How could he possibly know that unless he’d been watching her all along?
Depression swallowed her whole. He had been watching. He could have come to her at any time, and he hadn’t. He didn’t want her here.
Her face burned with embarrassment. She wanted to dig a hole in the earth and climb in.
“Foolish,” he muttered, focus turning to the bandage on her temple.
The corners of her eyes stung, readying to produce tears. She blinked them back and bit into her lip. She would not cry.
Lester returned with a screw-cap jar and handed it to her blue-eyed tormentor. Daubing a bit of the creamy white substance onto his fingers, he removed her bandage and touched the side of her head. Unholy flames burst into her temple and ate through the muscles—agony to match her emotional suffering.
She jerked away. He grabbed her jaw, holding her in place. Her teeth grated. She had wanted so long to be this close to him, and now that she knew what it meant, she ached to burst through that prison door and be far, far away. Pain. True, blinding pain. Let her heart be laid to rest now. She didn’t have need of it anymore!
She threw an arm at him, crying out as Hell’s fire coursed into her head.
He caught her arm and laid it gently beside her. The inferno died, his fingers glazing softly down the side of her face. Tingles fired up from her toes.
His hand retracted.
She gasped, eyes opening. She wanted him to touch her again, to feel the pain, the flames, the ache of lightning through her bones!
He stood.
Why? Why did his contact do this to her?
She tenuously lifted her gaze. He stared back, his handsome face granite, his scar a jagged marble blemish.
“That is enough for today.” His eyes snapped soundly away as he handed the bottle back to Lester. “Redress the wound. Keep her down.”
And he moved abruptly from the confines.
26
Almost
Kiren stopped just outside the door, landing against the wall and pulling his hands through his hair. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes. A little worse—had her fall been only a little worse . . .
He bit his knuckle, channeling into his own flesh the need to break something.
Movement pulled his attention up, to the boy hovering in the shadows. The young man twisted a hat in his grasp, eyes wide.
Kiren straightened, shoulders back. He swallowed, seeking the calm that had been his constant for so long, the calm she
Bellezza threw herself at the bars. Alexia leapt in alarm. She cursed herself for the reaction, taking several seconds to overcome the agony.
“I am tired of trying,” Bellezza pled. “Please let me go!”
He touched the tip of her little nose. “You will go free—” Her face brightened. “—but not today.”
The girl’s countenance fell.
“I think you are making progress. In fact,” his unrelenting eyes finally turned on Alexia, “she is proof.” The kindness had gone. His glare hung heavily on her, like dark storm clouds after a glimpse of perfect sunbeams.
He rounded to her cage, nodding for Lester to loose the bars. His grimace deepened as he neared her side—not so much a grimace as a darkening of the eyes. She wanted to melt into the floor and cease to be.
“Some ointment, Lester.”
The key-bearer exited.
He hesitated only briefly, flashing an agonized scowl as he took a seat. Alexia wished she could escape. He was disappointed the fall hadn’t killed her. Now he’d have to do it himself.
Their gazes met. She dove wholly into his, consumed by the need to be wrong.
“Well done, Alexia. You found me.”
25
Healing
His words ushered forth so quietly, Alexia wondered if they’d penetrate Bellezza’s corner. His glare clashed with the pain in his expression. She held still, searching his face for any hint that their reunion brought him the slightest joy.
His head shook. “This may well be the least intelligent thing you have ever done.”
She frowned. How could he possibly know that unless he’d been watching her all along?
Depression swallowed her whole. He had been watching. He could have come to her at any time, and he hadn’t. He didn’t want her here.
Her face burned with embarrassment. She wanted to dig a hole in the earth and climb in.
“Foolish,” he muttered, focus turning to the bandage on her temple.
The corners of her eyes stung, readying to produce tears. She blinked them back and bit into her lip. She would not cry.
Lester returned with a screw-cap jar and handed it to her blue-eyed tormentor. Daubing a bit of the creamy white substance onto his fingers, he removed her bandage and touched the side of her head. Unholy flames burst into her temple and ate through the muscles—agony to match her emotional suffering.
She jerked away. He grabbed her jaw, holding her in place. Her teeth grated. She had wanted so long to be this close to him, and now that she knew what it meant, she ached to burst through that prison door and be far, far away. Pain. True, blinding pain. Let her heart be laid to rest now. She didn’t have need of it anymore!
She threw an arm at him, crying out as Hell’s fire coursed into her head.
He caught her arm and laid it gently beside her. The inferno died, his fingers glazing softly down the side of her face. Tingles fired up from her toes.
His hand retracted.
She gasped, eyes opening. She wanted him to touch her again, to feel the pain, the flames, the ache of lightning through her bones!
He stood.
Why? Why did his contact do this to her?
She tenuously lifted her gaze. He stared back, his handsome face granite, his scar a jagged marble blemish.
“That is enough for today.” His eyes snapped soundly away as he handed the bottle back to Lester. “Redress the wound. Keep her down.”
And he moved abruptly from the confines.
26
Almost
Kiren stopped just outside the door, landing against the wall and pulling his hands through his hair. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes. A little worse—had her fall been only a little worse . . .
He bit his knuckle, channeling into his own flesh the need to break something.
Movement pulled his attention up, to the boy hovering in the shadows. The young man twisted a hat in his grasp, eyes wide.
Kiren straightened, shoulders back. He swallowed, seeking the calm that had been his constant for so long, the calm she
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