A Touch of Death

by J. J. Dean

  I come back into focus when the incubus growls, "Stop hovering behind me, you animal. You'll get food the same time as everyone else. Standing behind me and watching my every move won't make me go any fucking faster. Go do something useful for a change."

  My eyebrows shoot up my forehead, and I quickly glance at Zayn before looking back at the incubus and shifter.

  Nix's boisterous laugh pours from him, and my heart tilts on its axis again. Seriously, what the hell is that about? I scrunch my eyebrows, then quickly remember the vampire next to me has a window to my thoughts, so I cap them before I give myself away. Nix moves away from Ezra, walking around the counter after giving Spencer a clap on the back.

  He's suddenly right beside me again, warmth emanating from his extremely well-built body. He takes a breath, but before a word can leave his full lips, Zayn blurts, "So Novia, are you feeling any better?"

  The air leaves Nix in a huff, and his body deflates like a balloon. He turns to glare at Zayn but quickly moves to face me again. I can feel two more sets of eyes on me, and a tingle races up my spine. I shuffle awkwardly on my seat and twist to face Zayn directly.

  "A little better." I have to swallow a couple of times when my voice comes out with yet another rasp. "My throat is a little sore, and my feet hurt, but I'll be good as new before you know it. Nothing I haven't dealt with before, and certainly no worse."

  I offer him a brittle smile despite the memories of worse flickering through my brain before I can stop them. Memories of being strapped to a hard, uncomfortable table without a stitch of clothing covering my body while humans in hazmat suits and masks experimented on me. They wore their suits like armour, as though I could infect them with my race. Fucking idiots. Memories of being used as a pin cushion, poked and prodded with various metal instruments that were designed to cause pain. Sliced and carved by sharp knives to test my healing abilities every single day, never leaving a scar afterwards since my skin stitched itself back together. My body always looked as flawless as it had before they began their experiments, only I was always drenched in my own blood by the time they finished.

  A deep, menacing growl penetrates the gruesome images of my shredded skin and their butchering tools, and I notice Zayn watching me intently, a fierce look on his face. He looks ready to take on a horde of beasts by himself, tearing them all apart with his bare hands. Fuck. Cap your shit, Novia. No one needs to be a witness to what you suffered, you stupid girl.

  "Sorry," I whisper, ducking my head to stare at the countertop beside me. A glass of cool water appears right under my nose, condensation drips down the side of the glass with slow movements. My gaze flickers up, catching Ezra moving his hand away and heading back towards the stove. I whisper my thanks and carefully grasp the glass in my now shaking hands.

  I can feel Zayn's eyes boring into me, but in an attempt to ignore it, I guzzle down the water. I don't realise how dehydrated I'd become until I find the glass completely empty while I catch my breath. A hand gently removes the glass from my hand and replaces it with another full glass of water. I sip this one slower, no less thankful for the cooling liquid that instantly soothes my throat.

  Everyone is silent, and the atmosphere turns tense and awkward. I continue to avoid Zayn's gaze, but his anger is palpable. I can almost taste it in the air. Nix shuffles awkwardly on his feet beside me, crossing and uncrossing his arms. With a quick peek, I catch his head swinging from me to Zayn and back again.

  Thankfully, Ezra breaks the silence when he slowly slides a plate onto the counter in front of me. The smell hits me first before I realise what's even on there. The sweet scent of pancakes tickles my nose followed by the sickly smell of syrup. I look over the plate to see it stacked high with fluffy pancakes. Bacon and eggs sit next to it, and a little glass china boat filled with maple syrup sits right next to the plate.

  A startling grumbling noise sounds in the room, and it takes me too long to realise it’s my belly. After years of being only fed enough to stay alive, my stomach must have grown used to the hunger pains and the meager scraps we were fed. It's been too long since I saw so much food on one plate. Five years. Five fucking years of being fed morsels of whatever was lying around.

  My eyes grow warm as tears obscure my vision while I stare stupidly at the food. A large, warm hand on my back startles me, and I blink back the rest of the tears that haven't already fallen. When I’m able to see again, I clear my throat and look around, only to find everyone looking at me with various expressions of sadness, anger, and sympathy.

  I face the vampire. "You saw that?"

  He nods.

  Bobbing my head, I quickly put two and two together based off the expressions on the others. "You showed them?"

  Another nod.

  Well, alright then. I can't exactly be mad. It's not like they wouldn't have worked it out by now. I have bones sticking out enough to clearly show that I haven't been consuming what I should have over the years of captivity. At least I don't have to say the words out loud. Silver lining.

  The hand rubbing my back grows firmer when I don't pull away. I almost forgot what it was like to feel a comforting touch, for someone to soothe me when I needed it. The warmth in Nix's hand seeps into me, and I find myself relaxing under his palm.

  Thoughts of my imprisonment fly through the window when my belly makes a weird growl again. Ezra slowly nudges the plate closer to me, as one might when they're trying not to frighten a wounded animal. He raises an eyebrow, and, with a voice like velvet and an accent to match Zayn’s, he tells me, "Eat up. There'll be more when you're done, so don't be shy."

  It’s the first he’s spoken to me, and his voice feels like a warm hug on a cold winter’s day. Tears prick my eyes again, but I bat them away. With another whisper, I say, "Thank you, Ezra."

  Something flashes over his face, but it's gone before I can think more of it, and he's turning to dish up other plates piled high with food. Spencer nudges the syrup closer my way with a small smile, and I offer him one in return.

  I pick up the cutlery I hadn't noticed before and dig in. A sigh of pure bliss escapes with the first bite of the fluffiest pancakes that have ever graced my taste buds. With my second bite, something akin to a whimper leaves me as I savour every chew with my eyes closed after they almost roll to the back of my head. Just as I'm about to take another bite, my eyes open, and, once again, four sets of eyes are watching me intently.

  I shove a forkful of food in my mouth and mutter, "These are amazing," as if I hadn't already made it aware.

  I catch the quickest smile from Ezra, who looks like he didn't even mean to give me that much. His eyes flash with amusement before his attention goes back to serving up food for himself and the others. The others keep watching, so with another mouthful, I mumble, "It's not very polite to stare."

  Sure, it's considered rude, but I'm also eating like a half-starved cow, so I do not need them watching me while I scarf food down like it's the last I'll ever have. Zayn snickers, and my cheeks warm. At least he isn’t staring at me with a look so intense that I feel it down to the very pit of my soul.

  "Eat. We'll stop watching," he says with a small smile, his green eyes alight with hilarity. He looks down when Ezra slides him his own plate, and the others mill around the room. I keep eating, zoning everything out around me.

  I'm pulled out of my laser sharp focus on my food when I feel a warm body slide up onto the stool directly next to me, squeezing between Zayn and I. If the heat alone hadn't told me it was Nix, his sheer size would have. His entire arm brushes mine, but I don't try to pull away. In fact, I subconsciously move closer just to absorb more of the heat his body radiates. After being starved of warmth and touch for so long, I'm finding myself struggling to remember that I don't know these guys. They're all strangers despite the feeling of overwhelming familiarity I seem to have towards them. I have no idea what their intentions are, and my lack of worry around them is dampening any alarm bells that should be blaring at me by now. They sa
ved me, that's all. I'll have to leave soon enough. I don't know what I'm going to do once I leave this place. Where will I go? How will I get there when I figure it out?

  Zayn makes no outward appearance that he heard my inner monologue, so I continue with my food until every last scrap has been demolished and the plate comes close to being licked clean. For the first time in too long my belly is filled to the brim. I'm satisfied and sated.

  I'm basking in the feeling when Spencer speaks up. He's moved to sit on the other side of Zayn, so he leans on his forearms to look at me. "Now that you’re fed and hopefully a little more comfortable, mind if we ask you some questions?"

  I stiffen before relaxing again. Of course they want answers. The mage said as much when he knocked on the door to the room I’d slept in. It's not like I can't give them that much.

  I nod. "Sure. I suppose you have a few to ask me."

  Nix snorts, turning his head to face me. "Only about a hundred. No big deal." He flashes me a grin that I don't even try not to return. Apparently, his smiles are infectious. I ignore the flutter in my belly and the way my heartbeat thuds a little faster. I don't know what I did right to land myself in a house with four extremely attractive guys, but the Fates have clearly blessed me with this turn of events. We won't consider me plummeting to my un-death something right.

  "What do you want to know first?" I ask, shifting in my seat and awkwardly trying to find a comfortable way to sit now that I'm no longer hunched over the counter.

  Nix catches my inability to sit still. "Let's go sit in the living room. My ass can't stand to sit on this fucking barstool much longer."

  I surprise myself with a snort. I hop down from the stool, feeling the shirt glide up my legs as I slide off. Thankfully, the shirt stops just before exposing my milk white ass, so I quickly tug it back down once I'm firmly stood on the floor. When I look up from tugging my dress-like shirt in place, I catch Nix's eyes firmly planted on my now covered legs. His gaze in intense and heated, and it's enough for me to start squirming where I stand.

  My movements knock him out of his stupor, and he shakes his head. An endearing light blush tints his cheeks, but he ignores his embarrassment and motions to the living area with his head. I follow behind him when he walks to a black leather couch with a grey, fluffy throw over. The others follow behind me, and each takes a spot in the living room as though the places they've taken up are theirs only. I stumble over my own feet before reaching the couch completely, and arms shoot out to steady me.

  "We really shouldn't be making you walk with your feet torn up," Spencer mutters behind me. That makes it the second time he's saved me from falling onto my ass.

  I shake my head a little, his hands still holding onto me protectively. Strange, but I'm not questioning it right now because I realise I'm not in pain anymore. Every scratch, ache, bruise, and slice has disappeared, no longer making me feel like I went ten rounds with a grizzly bear. "I'm all healed. I just tripped over my own feet, is all."

  I offer him a quick smile before extracting myself from his touch that had a flurry of butterflies taking up residence in my belly again. I'll need to work out why these strangers are causing such reactions when I've never met them before.

  Slowly, I sit while Spencer returns to the armchair he’d vacated. I sink into the couch with a heavenly sigh. This has to be the comfiest thing I've ever sat on in my entire life. With my head tilted back against the couch and my eyes fluttering closed, I ask, "Okay, hit me with it. Tell me where you want me to start."

  I peek one eye open when I hear movement. Ezra sits on a two-seater couch to the left of me. He leans forward in his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of himself. "Why did it take you so long to heal?"

  Well, that's not what I was expecting as the first question for my interrogation.

  "Uh, I guess it was my lack of energy." I pause, but decide giving them as much of the truth as I can bear to offer is the wisest move for me here. Lying to them feels wrong. A hollow pit forms in my chest with the thought alone. They rescued me, so it's only right I give them honesty in return. "I haven't had sufficient energy to heal the smallest scrapes in five years. I haven't had a full meal like that in the same amount of time and just enough water to keep me hydrated to function properly. The meal you cooked and the water I had was enough to replenish the necessary amount of energy for my healing to speed up. I’ll need to sit in the sun for a while at some point though."

  I close my eyes instantly after my explanation, sinking into the couch like it could absorb me. The fear of seeing pity in their eyes is enough for me to keep them closed. I don't need pity. Pity is for the weak, and I'll never be weak again.

  After a throat clearing, a softer voice I already recognise as Zayn asks, "Where did you come from, Novia?"

  I think on it a moment. Does he mean where I came from after they found me, or before that? I guess telling them the answer to both won’t do any harm. "Originally, I'm from Arizona. The Coconino National Forest, to be more precise. The fae have lived there for centuries. As for the last five years...I don't know. I just know it was a facility of some sort. I never did figure out where in the world we were kept."

  "I know where Coconino is. It was no secret the fae occupied that entire forest," Nix comments. He's more right than he knows. Even the humans who believed in the supernatural knew where we were, making us easy enough to find and kidnap. We didn't stand a chance.

  I clear my throat and wipe away the frown from my face. "Yeah, well, that was a mistake on our part. We should have made our location a secret, like every other Natural has done. They wouldn't have found us otherwise."

  "Who? Who wouldn't have found you?" Ezra probes. His eyes are attentive, his gaze watching my every move.

  I ignore his question, realising I still don't know what state I'm in, or if I'm still in Arizona. "Speaking of locations...where's here?"

  They all share a look as though they're debating whether they should tell me or not. My eyebrows furrow together as I watch, wondering why they'd want to keep it from me at all, but then Spencer answers. "You’re a long way from home, Novia."

  Chapter 6

  Spencer

  Novia's eyebrows pinch together with confusion. "What does that mean? Where am I?"

  Now, how the hell are we supposed to tell this woman that she's on the other side of the damn world? For three and a half years, the four of us have been on a wayward mission to gather intel on a secret research and experimentation lab that's moved around a lot, making our job incredibly difficult. The very lab that's been said to harbour the entire race of fae. It's no coincidence that we find Novia in the woodlands that surround the very land the lab sits on. No coincidence that it's a facility of some sort that she's mentioned. The guys and I have been stationed in the UK for the last three and a half years. We're an hour away from the woodlands where we found Novia. And roughly an hour away from our target.

  With one more look at the others, I shuffle closer to the edge of my seat. I pluck my hat off my head and run my hand through my hair before replacing it. I inhale and let the air out with a whoosh, then say, "Novia, you've been brought to the United Kingdom. We're currently in England."

  Novia's eyelashes flutter rapidly, her face blank as her breathing increases, loud enough for even me to hear. The vampire and shifter are the ones with increased hearing, so if Novia's breathing can reach my eardrums, then I wouldn't be surprised if she's on the brink of hyperventilating.

  Surprisingly enough, her choppy breathing evens out fairly quickly, and she sinks further into the couch. I didn't think that was possible since it looked like she was as far back into the couch as her slim frame could get. Her head tilts down until her pale blonde hair curtains her face from everyone but me given that I'm sat on the arm chair opposite her. I keep my eyes on her, raptly watching her every move. It's then I see the tears dripping from her chin and onto her borrowed shirt, leaving small dark drops on the fabric.


  It's been an incredibly long time since I've felt anything for another being, my chosen brothers excluded. I've never been a people person, always choosing to keep to myself. The only ones to broach my barriers have been the three Naturals I haven't been able to get rid of since they careened into my life. It's safer to keep people out. I've seen enough over my lifetime to know that emotional ties will only hurt you in the end, so I've always tried to stay clear of forming any connections or bonds. My brothers didn't get the memo, and I'm glad. I'll be damned if I let anyone else get as close, though.

  At least that's what I thought before her.

  The woman silently crying her tears of grief and confusion right in front of me stirs something inside me that demands I scoop her up, hide her away, and protect her from this shitty world. The woman who's managed to pull more smiles out of me than I've ever given my brothers over the long expanse of time I've known them. The woman I've never met before today, yet I feel like I've known for the same length of time that I've known Zayn, Ezra, and Nix. How is that even possible? I've known of her existence for less than a day, but it almost feels like she's managed to burrow deep under my skin already. That's ridiculous… right? Unless what Zayn says is true, and we're bonded to her. No, that's not it. I'll believe that when it's proven.

  That doesn't change the sudden urge to comfort the stranger in front of me, however. It's like my body moves on autopilot. I'm out of my chair and kneeling in front of Novia in seconds, my hands reaching out to pull her closer. She flinches and hiccups an unrestrained sob before she relents and almost collapses into my arms. Her head falls to my shoulder, and my arms wrap around her gently, my hands rubbing soothing motions up and down her back while her body shakes with silent sobs.

  Quick inhales of breaths have my head turning without jostling Novia, and I see three faces looking as shocked as I feel at my actions. My eyes feel as wide as saucers, but I can't seem to move away from the broken woman I'm holding.