Melas frowned. Of the three men, she would not have described Ridhor as funny. Andrei maybe, but not the one who claimed to be a Berserker. “What makes you say that?”
She lifted her shoulders as Melas raked her fingers gently through her hair, trying to comb out the tangles while the conditioner was setting. “He stares at us like a puppy sometimes. I like puppies.”
Remembering everything they told her, she frowned. “Apparently, he’s more like a bear.”
“I like bears, too.”
Pulling her back so she could rinse Zura’s hair in the water, she looked down at her daughter as her head floated in front of her. “Bears are best appreciated from far away.”
“I know, mommy.” She let Melas rinse all the conditioner from her hair. “I just think he’s funny. That’s all.”
Nodding, Melas sat her up and climbed out of the tub. Grabbing a towel, she squeezed the water from her hair before wrapping another around herself. She carried the third over to the tub. “Come on, then. Let’s get you in bed.”
She’d been hesitant to accept Orren’s invitation to stay. She still wasn’t sure she would. He’d been right, Zura was exhausted. So was she. They couldn’t very well leave. The bath helped but pain still throbbed through her. She would have to look over her wounds more carefully once Zura was asleep. She didn’t want to assess the damage under Zura’s watchful eye. There was also the matter of their memory.
Just like Zura, a lot of who they were before walking through the front doors to this cabin was lost. Her skills were still there, as were her instincts. Anything pointing to who and what they were was gone.
Vanished.
Going out with her daughter in tow when she didn’t know vital information could be dangerous. She didn’t know these men, but she knew she could handle her own here. There were only three of them.
Better to stay with the devils you knew.
She could easily get to know these three, uncover their every weakness to be sure she could keep Zura safe. At least until she found her answers and her mind.
A knock at the door sounded as the two of them sat on the edge of the bed. Zura slipped closer and closer to sleep as Melas contemplated what she could put in the thick curls to keep them from being a mess of knots and unruly kinks tomorrow.
Andrei slowly opened the door a crack and poked his head into the room. “I brought you some things. It was difficult to procure anything that would rightly fit a child. She’s small and as we mentioned before, children are not things we prepare for in this realm. I’m the smallest of the brood so I figured I could just cut the bottom off one of my shirts and it would do until we can find something more suitable. She looks about the size of a hobgoblin or a gnome. We could likely get her something from the Seelie Realm that would fit. Or perhaps Orren could ask a Nightmare.” He waved the thought away. “We’ll figure it out.” He assured her. “I also brought you this. Ridhor assured me you’d need it. It’s an oil he uses for his beard. He said with all that hair the pair of you have, you would need something.”
She still didn’t trust these three as far as she could throw them, but she had to admit their thoughtfulness reassured her.
“There are some clothes for you here, too.” He stepped into the room carrying the pile of supplies in his arms over, placing them on the bench at the end of the bed. He moved away, sitting on the arm of a chair in the sitting area between the bed and the bathroom. Keeping his gaze on them.
Melas opened the oil and inhaled.
It smelled wonderful. Like plants and some kind of flower she couldn’t recognize. “He makes it himself,” Andrei told her lifting his shoulders. “Out of what, I’m not sure.”
Squeezing some into her palm, she rubbed her hands together before sectioning Zura’s hair and getting to work. “Thank you. It’s a headache to handle without something like this.”
He nodded, his warm eyes still watching her.
It took a while, and Andrei seemed comfortable observing them in silence. When she was done, she tucked an already sleeping Zura in. Pressing a kiss to her head, she moved to sit on the bench so as not to disturb her as she began working on her own hair. “Where are the others?”
“Is my company not enough?” He smiled playfully. He let out a sigh when she didn’t answer. “Orren is in his office, and Ridhor is hiding from you.”
“From me?” She raised her brow in question as she chose a black henley shirt from the pile and pulled it on over her towel. It was almost as long, which allowed her to pull the towel free without feeling naked. As the towel rubbed against the wound in her side, she grit her teeth, her jaw flexing.
“Although, maybe I should tell him he can no longer hide from you. Of the three of us, he is best in medicinal talents. His healing is a lot slower than Orren’s and mine is barely slow enough for me to care about patch-ups.” He pulled up the hem of his top to show her taut, flawless skin pulled over his muscles. The knife wound completely gone, as though it were never even there. “Good as new, although that doesn’t make landing the blow any less impressive.”
She couldn’t keep the fascination from her face. “That’s a handy trick.”
He pointed at the blood on the towel she tossed on the bench beside her. “One you don’t share. He also makes tonics to help with pain. Should I get him?”
Grabbing a pair of black fitted boxers off the top of the pile, she debated pulling them on now but thought better of it. Andrei’s eyes were already exploring the length of her legs, his nostrils flaring slightly. It was probably better to wait until he was out of the room. She would need them if he came back with Ridhor in tow.
“Your blood has a sweetness to it I never thought I would be fond of.” He pointed to the open hole in her thigh, a thin trail of blood rolling down the front of her leg. “A heat with a fiery scent to it. It’s different.”
“In the movies, a Vampire wouldn’t be able to fight his thirst and would lunge over at the bleeding damsel.” How did she know that but not where she came from? She wondered.
Andrei laughed, shaking his head. “I know better than to lunge at you. You’re no damsel. It’s more like smelling a meal cooking. You know you want it but don’t jump in the pot.”
Melas nodded. “What are the three of you? Lovers or something? Seems like an odd group to be living together.”
Clicking his tongue, he rolled his eyes. “Sadly, no. Ridhor is too uptight sexually to ever consider the possibility of warming my bed and Orren, though open, would never sleep with someone he had to spend so much time with. He prefers to compartmentalize everything. Sex over here, rebellion over there. It makes living here quite dull.”
“Rebellion?” She frowned.
He lifted his shoulders. “A very long story and you seem quite tired and still in need of medical attention. I’ll go find Ridhor.” He pushed off the chair, pausing before walking past her. “What would you do if I tried to kiss you?” he asked her, his eyes rimmed red.
“Stab you.” She answered flatly, pulling her curls over her shoulder to apply oil to the ends.
Nodding, he pouted. “I figured as much. Pity.”
Melas couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at him as he left the room. As soon as the door was shut, she quickly pulled the boxers on and walked into the bathroom. She kept the door ajar so she could see Zura sleeping as she pulled up her shirt and looked at her reflection.
The hole in her side was slightly raised, agitated. Turning, she looked at the hole in her back on the opposite side. “Too bad I can’t heal like Andrei.” She frowned. There were a few other cuts and scrapes along her belly, and a deep cut on the opposite side.
The flesh on her belly was covered in pale little nicks. Scars that healed at various points in her life. She ran her slender fingers along some of the raised marks, wondering what she got up to in her life to be so thoroughly decorated.
Working her bottom lip through her teeth, she stared at her reflection. “Who are you?” She whisper
ed.
Someone at her bedroom door had her dropping her shirt and walking to the room, putting herself between the door and Zura.
Ridhor poked his head in, his eyes avoiding her. “Can I come in? Andrei told me you had some wounds that needed tending.”
Nodding, she moved over to the couch to sit.
Ridhor came into the room quietly, quickly closing the space between them. He paused at the couch next to her. “I will need to sit here.”
Melas nodded. “I imagined you would.”
He sat. Opening a leather bag, he pulled supplies out setting them on the wood table in front of them. He got up to grab the bloodied towel from the bench and a few others from the bathroom before sitting back down.
When he was satisfied with all his supplies, he gestured to her.
“I will need to touch you.” She expected him to sound nervous after Andrei told her he was hiding from her, but he sounded as unenthused and closed off as he always had.
She nodded. “Okay.”
Touching her thigh gingerly, he lifted it to feel underneath. His massive hands covered her thigh completely. “No exit wound.” He said. Opening a glass vial, he moved to pour it before looking at her. “This will sting, but prevent infection.”
Melas was used to pain, the scars all over her body told her as much. She barely felt the tonic being poured into her wound, or him bandaging it up before pausing to look at her. “I can smell more blood.” He told her.
She pulled up the hem of her shirt.
His eyes scanned her bare abdomen for a moment. The dimple in his cheekbone deepened as his lips pressed thin. Without a word, he busied himself cleaning her, stitching her up, and bandaging the smaller wounds. “Did you want something for the pain?”
She shook her head. “No. The pain is fine.”
Ridhor’s eyes looked her over, the pale blue one moving along with the hazel both seeing through her words. She wondered if he could see out of his blue eye, or if it was damaged by whatever burned his face.
His eyes moved to Zura who slept on the bed, making Melas tense.
“I have something that would help with the pain without making you sleepy or groggy.”
He was thoughtful. He considered their needs when they’d been in the bath by sending the oils for their hair, and again when thinking about managing her pain.
The pain was there. It seemed to pound away at her the more tired she got. In a new house, surrounded by strangers, there was no way she would take something to govern the pain if it dulled any of her other senses. She needed to be alert to protect her daughter. He knew that and was trying to assure her he was keeping that in mind while still trying to make her comfortable.
His actions didn’t fit with his hard exterior.
Melas shook her head. To be without pain would be wonderful, but she couldn’t risk it. She didn’t know him well enough to trust him with something so important. “Thank you. It’s kind, but I’ll manage. The oils worked wonderfully in our hair. Thank you for that.” She may be wary, but it wouldn’t do her any good to be abrasive when he was making an effort to be considerate of them.
Grunting, he stood. “Very well.”
“Why were you hiding from me?” She asked as he collected his supplies.
“Who said I was hiding from you?”
“Andrei. I asked where everyone else was and he told me you were hiding from me. Why?”
He was quiet a moment. Melas thought he was going to ignore her question as he fisted the strap of his bag and stood. “You make me feel unpredictable. I don’t like it.”
She remembered the way he looked at her when they’d been sitting at the dining table. His eyes seemed ravenous as he inhaled her scent. Intoxicated, was how he said it made him feel. “Okay.”
Nodding, he walked to the door. “Sleep well.”
“Sure.” The door closed behind him.
Lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, she told herself she wouldn’t think about it. She wasn’t here to make friends. If he wanted to avoid her because she made him feel unpredictable, he was more than welcome to. One less person she’d have to fight if things went south here.
Walking to the bed, Melas shifted Zura so she was set further away from the door and started to climb in beside her when another light knock came from the door. Groaning, she took in a deep breath. “I guess there was one left to come calling.” She murmured, exhaustion eating away at her patience.
Opening the door, she looked at the last of the men who lived here. Orren stood in a henley identical to the one that hung down her thighs and black sleeping pants. His feet were hidden in black socks as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked her over. “You’re looking better. Clean.”
“Yup.” She curled her nose at him. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Orren’s gaze met hers, holding it for a moment before he slowly stepped aside.
Melas startled slightly as her eyes met the woman who took the spot Orren had been standing. She quickly recovered, schooling her features to seem disinterested as her eyes moved over a woman covered head to toe in grey transparent fabric. Pulled taut over every inch of her. She looked like she was in a latex bag, her arms reaching out to stretch the fabric to the point of tearing before switching their path and reaching in another direction. Each movement boneless and unnatural. Writhing and twisting every which way seemingly for no other reason than to draw Melas’ eyes and fill her with the unease coating the inside of her belly.
If she didn’t know any better she would say more than one person was taking up space inside that fabric. She could see through the thin fabric to the stark naked woman underneath knowing that wasn’t true. Unless she were some kind of being with more than the four limbs Melas had, and the additional limbs couldn’t be seen by her eyes. At this point, she wasn’t sure what was possible.
Her movements were accompanied by a sound, Melas realized. An echo of whispers bouncing around as she moved. Close enough one moment for Melas to make out a word or two before they backed away, too far for her to hear, muffled by the fabric.
The combination of the movements and sounds was unsettling.
Pulling her gaze away from whatever this thing was, Melas let her eyes settle on the intense eye of Orren.
He was watching her. Assessing her reactions to everything. His stare made her feel like he was trying to dig his fingernails into her flesh, tear away her protective casing to look at whatever she was trying to hide from him underneath. It was a challenge he issued with each gaze he doesn’t cut short but deepened when her eyes caught his.
He wanted her to know he was looking. Digging.
Wanted her to know he was slowly working his way beneath her skin. It was just a matter of time before he got to the softness under the battle armour she always wore.
Reaching out a hand, Melas held onto the edge of the door and pulled it slightly closed behind her as she met his eyes. She was closing him off from the room, just as she wanted him to know she closed herself off from whatever probing his eyes were attempting. Her eyes were hard when she meets his, showing him she saw his challenge and had no intention of backing down.
She had more to lose than he did, she knew that even if she didn’t know why.
A glint in his eye showed his amusement, the rest of his face blank. It was the same look he had when he walked into the foyer and observed the scene. His two comrades out of sorts, the woman half their size between them with fury on her face.
Whatever fire burned inside her, he liked it.
As masked as he was, that much was clear.
“Sorry to intrude. I know you’ve had your share of visitors tonight.” There was nothing malicious in the way he looked at her, but she knew he wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t a man who was sorry for inconveniencing someone if it satisfied his curiosities. He had questions about her, and he wanted answers.
No matter how late it was.
Or how many visitors she had.
Th
e soft breathing of Zura deep in sleep could be heard clearly behind her. For a moment, Melas felt the urge to ignore the challenge Orren was extending. She was tired. Starting a battle of wills with someone she didn’t plan on knowing long enough to win seemed pointless. She wasn’t the kind of person to do anything half way.
Gesturing to the woman, she tried to keep the annoyance igniting in her belly from showing on her face. “It’s a little late for entertainment.” She sighed. “Can we skip past the whole aloof thing you do and get straight to what you want from me so I can go to bed?”
The playful glint in his eye disappeared as he noted the signs of exhaustion on Melas’ face. He gave her a stern nod before gesturing to the being at his side.
“This is Ela. She’s an Oracle. She has many gifts, Oracles being one of the more powerful beings of The Veil. She’s our best resource in finding out where you and Zura came from and what you are.”
Reminding him she was human would be a wasted effort. Orren, Ridhor, and Andrei believed she was about as human as they were.
No matter how deeply in her mind she searched, human was the only thing that made sense. She hadn’t even believed there was anything else.
How could she not be human?
It would seem this weird Oracle was about to answer that question.
Orren’s need to control the flow of information was putting him in a frenzy. Not knowing any of the answers to his countless questions about Melas and Zura was something he couldn’t handle. It was evident by how quickly he managed to scrounge up someone who could give him the very answers he sought.
He couldn’t very well have two unknowns under his roof. If he didn’t know their species, he had no way to know how much of a threat they posed. From her display in the foyer, she was already a clear threat.
She didn’t regret it. She would do it again, likely would before she left.
Andrei was jumpy. Every move he made around her had her feeling like a compressed spring, waiting to react to him. He changed his mood and energy so quickly, she was bound to get whiplash. Flirtatious and challenging one moment, on guard and high-strung the next. He was so unlike what she had in mind when she imagined a Vampire. They were usually cool, collected. An arrogant air of surety around them. Andrei was that, at times. He certainly had been for a moment or two in the foyer before shit hit the fan.
Hidden In Darkness (A Seven Realms Book Book 1) Page 5