by Seth Eden
8
Day two brought nothing but rain, a downpour so heavy that even the enormous leaves of the surrounding trees sagged. That gave them more time to discuss the finer points on what shifters could really do.
“Okay, you can heal fast. But can you regrow limbs?”
“Limbs, no. The nanotechnology doesn’t work that fast nor that well. We can heal, but we still get scars.” He ran a thumb along the one going through his eyebrow.
“How did you get that, anyway? One of your fights with Ethan, I bet…” Samantha adjusted her bedsheet-dress around herself. It was starting to feel a little dingey against her skin but she had no interest in parading around the place in her birthday suit.
“If only the story was that romantic. No, I got this one fighting off a lemmurl.”
“And that is…?”
“A monkey-like squirrel. About this big.” He held his hands roughly six inches apart.
She couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter. Here, she’d thought it would have been something big and ferocious, something that would make that scar a grander tale. Instead, he’d earned his “battle wound” from something no bigger than an oversized rat.
“Laugh it up all you want. I was maybe ten on my first hunt and those things are vicious during mating season.”
That didn’t make the situation any better.
“So… not only did you lose a fight to a rat… but it was a horny rat. Oh my god, that’s hilarious,” she managed between gasps for air as she wiped a tear from her eye. Laughing felt so foreign to her at this point that it left her feeling a little light-headed.
Her laughter was somewhat infectious that Zen couldn’t help but smile along with her. It was nice to see that she was capable of something more than just glowering.
“I’m glad my screaming, bleeding twelve-year-old self is amusing to you.”
“I don’t usually laugh about bleeding children, but I’ll make an exception for you, just this once.”
More rain was all that greeted them the following morning. Another day of precipitation was starting to put a damper on the lightheartedness of yesterday. But that didn’t make it any less meaningful for them.
Talking with him about her experiences had reduced them in her mind somewhat, making it easier for her to come to terms with what she’d endured and how to deal with her resulting PTSD. There was never going to be a cure-all - there would still be triggers, he told her - but at least she knew how to recognize the signs and what to do about it.
“When you start to feel like you’re losing control, the first thing you should do is look at your breathing. It’s going to be hard at first with everything that’s going on with your body, but if you can get your breathing under control, then the rest of it will be a little easier.” Zen placed his hand on the middle of her back, giving her something to focus on. Samantha closed her eyes and gripped her knees as she took a deep breath. It was cool and humid, smelled of the rain and the earth. Clean, warm smells; she would use that memory in the future to help. Or the memory of cut grass. She’d always enjoyed that smell.
“And if I can’t get my breathing under control?”
“Then find something to focus on. Anything. It could be a rock or your big toe. Just something that you can redirect your attention towards. By thinking about that one thing, your brain will stop running on overdrive. Now exhale.”
She released all of the air she’d been holding in through her mouth, feeling herself deflate. She felt the way his hand sank into the space between her shoulder blades, how warm it felt against her skin.
“And if that doesn’t work, you might want to keep this on hand.”
She almost mourned the absence of his touch as he stood to retreat to the kitchen. She kept her eyes closed and continued to practice her breathing.
When he returned, there was a strong, sweet smell that filled the air, enough to force her eyes open. It was so arresting, she wondered why she hadn’t picked up that scent from the kitchen before.
“This is bladetongue. Not hard to grow if you need to, and flourishes quite well in sunlight. A dried bundle of it should last you a few months and the smell is supposed to be soothing.” He took her hand and pressed the small bundle into it. The long blades of blue-green were tied together with a thin piece of twine and felt almost velveteen against her skin.
A few months? That meant he must have picked some recently.
“I... I can’t take this. Maybe you can show me where to look for it once this rain lets up?” She pressed it back into his hand. If he was still using this stuff centuries later, then he likely needed it more than she did.
His smile was bittersweet as he took it back and pressed the small bundle to his chest. He knew he would be able to go without it for a while, but it was easy to interpret her gesture.
“Sure, we can do that. Now, back to breathing.” He took a seat beside her and placed his hand on her back once more.
Day Four. Zen had received no sign that Ethan was even looking for Samantha. It didn’t help that the heavy downpour continued, trapping them inside with the cold humidity streaming in through the front opening. That left everything feeling damp and uncomfortable against their skin. That meant her clothes still weren’t dry.
“Ugh, I wish you had some clothes I could wear,” she exclaimed as she stared out the open doorway. She’d gotten used to him wandering naked throughout his home, doing chores as he pleased. She just knew not to let her eyes wander too far or for too long.
“I could just dry your clothes for you, you know,” he suggested with a raised brow.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it sooner, or why he hadn’t suggested it, for that matter, but the realization that she could have been more comfortable in some warm dry clothes days ago left her in a sour mood.
“You let me sit around for two days in an awful bedsheet-”
“Hey, now…”
“And you only think to mention it now?!”
“Oh, don’t blame me. You knew what I could do. You just never asked.” Zen was idly picking at a chunk of wood in his hand with the point of a knife. From what she could tell, his carving wasn’t taking any discernible shape.
“Oh for... you’re a jerk.” She grabbed what she could - the empty tray - and smacked him on the shoulder with it. It vibrated with a loud clang against his shoulder, which only brought more smiles to his face.
“If you think that’s going to get me on your good side now...”
“Zen!” Another smack to his back.
“You keep that up and I’m going to set your dress on fire.”
Not wanting to see that dare carried through, she swallowed her pride and tossed the tray onto the couch.
“Will you dry my dress for me?”
Seeing her lips pressed so tightly together and the fury dancing in her eyes, Zen couldn’t help but have a little more fun with this.
“You didn’t say please.” He twirled the knife between his fingers, knowing what was coming next.
Sam threw herself on top of him this time, being careful enough to stay away from the knife. She dug her fingers into his side as she tried to pin him to the couch, furious that he was making her go through all the pleasantries for something so simple.
“Pretty please. With sugar on top,” she managed through gritted teeth.
Zen didn’t even try to fight back, allowing her this small physical victory. He could have easily wrestled her beneath him and switched their positions, but he’d toyed with her enough as is. It would amount to rubbing salt into her wound and she didn’t need more of that.
“Fine, fine. Yes, I’ll dry your dress.” He captured her wrist and nodded towards his bedroom. You can get changed in there while I’m working on it.”
Having her in his company had done more for his mood than he’d ever thought possible. All those years spent alone had only fostered his bitterness and anger, sharpening it into a fine point that only had one purpose.
Sam’s presence, on the other hand, had reminded him of what it was like to share his space with another person. To have someone to talk to, even if they didn’t share the same ideals or goals in life. She’d touched his humanity somewhat and reminded him of the person he used to be. Without even trying, she’d pulled down a few of the barriers he’d kept tightly wound around himself so that he’d never get hurt again.
And he hated that.
As he watched her close the bedroom door behind her, he hated that he’d let his guard down so easily around her. Had he really been that desperate for attention that he was clinging to the first person he’d met in centuries? Had he really gone soft? He shouldn’t have tried being nice to her to begin with, should have remained stoic and kept to himself. Instead, he’d allowed himself to slip into this comfortable, shallow niche that incorporated her into his life.
Except this was no life for her. She had no intention of staying here, he was sure of that. He was just trying to make the best of a bad situation and she... well, he couldn’t be sure what was running through her mind at the moment.
Samantha undid the knot at her shoulder and hugged the stained bedsheet to her body. Delighting in the thought of clean clothes again, she took a seat on the bed, feeling the softness of it sink under her weight. She couldn’t help but look over the small room he kept for himself, where he dwelled and slept. It was mostly barren, save for that small device sitting on a side table, the one that kept the holo-display of his deceased family.
Such a lonely life to live, she thought. Out here in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to, just thriving on his anger. That wasn’t any kind of life at all and she couldn’t understand how someone could exist like that for centuries.
She sighed as she ran a hand over the covers. This place was too small for so many people to live in, so this likely wasn’t his family home. This place could barely afford both of them space to move around as is. And yet, the coziness of it had won her over a little bit. She never liked big sprawling homes where there was more space than furniture. It just felt... too sterile and cold.
‘What are you thinking, Sam?’ She rubbed at her brows and shook her head. She wasn’t meant to stay here, that had never been the plan. She was only supposed to be bait and nothing else. Instead, they’d grown closer beyond the boundaries of their relationship. And that wasn’t going to end well for anyone involved.
A light knock on the door arrested her thoughts.
“Come in.”
Zen poked his head in, followed by his arm holding the dress.
“It’s all dry. Are you hungry for lunch?”
“Not yet. Maybe within the next hour?”
He nodded.
“I’ll get it started anyway. It’ll take that long before it’s ready.”
“Thanks.” She crossed the room and slipped her garment from his arm. The humidity of the room made it hard to breathe and the storm clouds shrouded the room in darkness, a darkness that felt like it was closing in on all sides.
She held her breath when their eyes met in that quiet gloom. Without the light, she could truly see the dull glow of his dark eyes, almost like a cat's eyes at night.
“Do... uh, your eyes always do that?” she asked quietly, one arm hugging the bedsheet closer to remind herself of her state of half-dress. Yet, part of her yearned for that thin veil between dressed and naked to fall away...
“Yes, it helps shifters to see better at night. More rods at the backs of our eyes… all that science stuff…” His reply was just as soft, though he didn’t dare to step in further. He was content with keeping the door rooted between them, in case...
“Good... good to know. Thank you for the dress, by the way. For drying it, I mean.”
“You did ask politely. How could I refuse?”
And yet the two remained locked that way for what felt like forever. The air between them seemed to grow warmer with each passing second, neither daring to end this encounter.
But it was silly to consider such a thing, they each told themselves. To jump headfirst into something borne from a disaster would lead to nothing but disappointment and heartache. For Zen, he didn’t want his centuries of loneliness to be the reason they were drawn together; that just appeared desperate. And yet, he felt his heart go out to her when his brother failed to show or even send a message. As if she’d been discarded. She didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, especially after sticking up for him all this time.
For Samantha, learning about shifters was just par for the course; the narrowed distance between them and the development of an affinity for him had more to do with the close proximity they’d endured in the closed space and less to do with any real affection.
At least, that’s what she wanted to believe. In another light, under different circumstances, she might have considered him attractive. Desirable, even. He obviously had a great passion for family life, which was an admirable trait. He was also a pretty good cook. And even if he had gone the wrong way about all of this, he was humble enough to admit his mistakes, even if it was too late for him to fix them.
Still, they lingered, basking in each other’s presence until the tension between them was completely unbearable.
Samantha cleared her throat and readjusted the dress across her arm.
“I should get dressed. For lunch, of course.” She stepped back into the darkened room, yet still lingered close enough he wanted to continue… whatever it was they were doing.
Zen felt something pulling tight inside his chest as he watched her step away. It wasn’t his place to draw her back towards him nor would that achieve anything. Whatever was happening here still involved Ethan in some respect and even though he didn’t love his brother anymore, Zen wasn’t about to do that to him. Or to her. He couldn’t burden her with the guilt of cheating on her partner.
“I’ll… get lunch ready.” Zen smiled politely as he closed the door behind him to give her her privacy. That tight sensation finally snapped, making his lungs feel heavy. He knew that she was never going to stay, but now everything within him yearned for her to remain.
Samantha reclaimed her seat on the bed and stared down at the dress in her arms. She couldn’t identify what she was feeling, whether it was good or bad and that only made her more frustrated about the matter. But she couldn’t stay here forever while another day spun away towards night time. With the lack of any response from Ethan, they were going to have to come up with another plan.
So she buried those feelings deep down as she slipped on the dress, adjusting the fine fabrics around her so that she at least looked her best. Then she stepped out into the main room to confront her fate.
Zen knew that there was only one thing left to do, one plan that would get rid of all these problems. He couldn’t be sure that any of it would work in his benefit either but it was worth a try, at least for her sake.
He felt his throat tighten when he heard the bedroom door open. He was busy roasting some more meat for lunch and wrapping it together in some fresh vegetables he’d found. But when he exited with the tray in hand, he found himself completely flabbergasted by the sight of her. Which was strange since this wasn’t his first time seeing her in the dress. But the passing days had put her in a new light in his eyes.
Samantha didn’t notice his stare as she took her seat on the couch. She felt absolutely refreshed in her clean dress and was glad to see that it wasn’t as torn as she'd expected it to be.
“That smells absolutely wonderful,” she cheered as she pulled her feet up under her.
“No different from yesterday.” Zen cleared his throat and set the tray down on the small table. In order for this plan to work, he was going to have to keep a level head about him and that meant distancing himself, as much as he didn’t want to.
“So I’ve decided. I shouldn’t keep you here any longer. Now that we know my plan isn’t going to work, there’s no reason for you to stay.” He quickly dove into his meal, not knowing what else to
say.
Zen couldn’t help the guilt that consumed him; for his brother to have disregarded this woman, the woman he’d been living with for so long and supposedly loved, just for his own safety... Zen couldn’t put into words how angry that made him. He couldn’t fathom what she must be going through either, like she meant nothing to Ethan. She hadn’t said as much but he could read it all over her posture, the way she sat on the couch, the slow way she ate her meals over the passing days... He should have agreed to this sooner.
“I’ll take you back to Cendarth once the rains let up.” He scooped up some meat with a rather large green leaf and plopped the whole thing into his mouth. She could see that his usual vivacious attitude was absent today. He looked absolutely deflated, like the world had given up on him. As he’d said, he hadn’t had a plan B which meant he was doing the rest of this blind.
“You go to Cendarth, and Dominic will have you captured. I’m not sure what he’ll do with you beyond that... I mean, he seems pretty benevolent, but you did attack him first.” Samantha wasn’t feeling hungry at all as she contemplated how any of this would work. Even if he brought her back, that still left him without a plan to find Ethan. That would put him right back where he started.
“... what if I spoke to Dominic and Jen on your behalf? Convinced them that this was all a mistake?” She absentmindedly chewed on the side of her thumb, running over all the possibilities in her mind. Either they would believe she had no reason to lie or they’d treat her with suspicion and believe that she was acting under duress. Unless...
“Like you said, they would be able to tell if I was lying or not. Right?”
“Depends on what kind of liar you are, remember?” Zen’s head perked up as he wiped the gravy from the tray with another leaf. What he couldn’t understand was why she would vouch for him. Her agreement to help him find Ethan was for purely selfish reasons - to get answers - but this didn’t involve her one bit, save for getting her to safety. To spare his life came with no strings attached.