I manage to crack the lids open, and a drop of drool hangs from a mottled pink and black tongue above my head. It plops onto my cheek then oozes, leaving a slimy trail.
Besides the dog, all I can see are puffy, black pillows lying scattered about. I try to raise my head, but pain sears my brain and I let it fall back onto the bed. “Christ, I’m never drinking again.”
The dog licks me, then pounces onto the floor.
Bed. Why am I sleeping on a mattress with black silk sheets? Their texture’s wonderful against the back of my hands, smooth and cool. Some of last night comes crashing back with force. Though most of it’s hazy, I remember bloodying Jareth’s nose and the subsequent kiss.
Damn you, conniving Granny Eva, look at the mess you made. And what was with that alcohol? It was just two small drinks. Why do I feel like a two-day old turd left out in the sun to dry?
Is it normal to have missing chunks of memory with a hangover? My mouth tastes like an old convenience store burrito, and I’m sure my bladder is about to explode.
“Oh, fuck. I’m in hell. This is punishment for getting drunk and kissing that douchebag.” I’m afraid to move the pillows and check the opposite side of the bed. Please, tell me I wasn’t stupid and drunk enough to sleep with him—my sworn enemy.
A hand clamps on my wrist.
Oh shit.
“Hey.” His voice is low. “How are you feeling?”
I squeeze my eyelids and jerk my hand from his grasp. The silk sheets caress my arm with the movement. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Face him, Tilly.
Like a crippled thing, I roll to my side and swipe away a few pillows. There he is, bigger than life, looking like a million bucks even with his stupid haircut. The short, dark locks are spiky and at odds with one another.
“Damn, I hate your hair.”
To my absolute relief, he and I are both still clothed, and I release a long breath.
He braces his head on a palm and watches my face. The little dimple calls to me. “I always knew I’d get you in my bed.”
“You’re not helping the situation.”
“I’m trying to flirt.” He reaches a hand toward me but stops.
I groan. “That’s not how you flirt, throwing gross sexual comments at someone all the time.” Wincing, I close one eye and look at his fresh face. “Wait, is that what you’ve been trying to do all this time? You thought you were flirting with me?”
He doesn’t answer, and blood rushes to his face.
My hoarse laugh pierces the quiet. “Oh, Jesus, now I know why you seemed like such a swaggering womanizer.” Even though I’m pissed, the whole situation’s hilarious, in a fucked up, Grimm’s fairy tale kind of way. “Do Baltins not flirt?”
His Adam’s apple bobs under tanned skin before he speaks. “No. Marriages are predetermined by blood and genes, so there’s no need for courtship.”
“Well, your world sounds horrible and loveless.” The hammer behind my eyes resumes its punishing beat. “Let me guess, you’re all grown in a tube like some science experiment gone wrong.”
“It’s practical and efficient.”
“Whatever.” I scrub my eyes. “Ugh, my head’s killing me. What was in that alcohol? Do people always get drunk after two drinks?”
“No, but your fragile body isn’t made to tolerate such a high alcohol content. Here, this will help.” He moves to put a small, thin disc, about the size of a dime, onto my temple.
Grabbing his hand, I force him to stop. “What the fuck is that? You think I’m going to let you touch me just because I had a moment of weakness? You’re insane.”
He slides his body closer, but I don’t release his arm. “It’s medicine. Promise. In a few minutes, the hangover will be gone, and you’ll be back to normal.”
“I’ll never be normal again, Jareth. You made sure of that.” The bitterness of my words lies between us like a concrete wall. My hand drops away, because I can no longer bear to feel his warm skin under my fingertips. It causes too many mixed emotions—pain from what he’s done, fear because my heart’s so raw and out of control.
The circling motion of his thumb pressing the disc on my temple is soothing. I watch his face, too tired and too sick to fight or complain. Without his beard, his jaw looks stronger and sterner. His eyebrows knit together, and his teeth bite the inside of his bottom lip as if he’s lost in a world of thought.
Our stares meet for a few seconds before I break the contact.
When he finishes, he lifts his arm and points to an area behind my head. “The bathroom’s over there. When you’re up to it, feel free to shower, or whatever you need to do. I have some stuff I need to take care of, but Grandma’s going to be here in a bit to keep you company.”
Great. Evil Eva.
I roll my eyes and check out his bedroom. The color scheme is muted silver with accents of black. Lighting runs along the top of the walls. A potted plant sits in a corner and breaks the sterility.
“Oh, goody. Is she going to take me to my cage?”
He grasps my hand. “No, I want you with me.”
“And I want to take Kodiak and go home. I refuse to be here with you, Jareth. Don’t you understand that?”
His head drops to the pillow, and he’s silent for a few seconds. He rubs his forehead. “Well, you can’t go home at the moment because we’re not in range.”
Alarm shoots through my veins. Not in range? “What the fuck does that even mean? Can you stop speaking in riddles?”
“We’re in the middle of starting a recharge, so I can’t send you to the planet with the snap of my fingers.”
Even though I’m at his mercy, I can’t stop the anger that wants to claw itself out of my chest. “So, you plan to keep me your prisoner, then? Always monitored by your maniacal grandma—who may or may not be a demon, I haven’t decided yet—and I’m supposed to be okay with that like everything else?”
The patch he placed on my temple must be doing the trick, because strength’s flooding back into my muscles, and my head’s clear.
“Of course not. I know this is going to take time. I just didn’t want you to be alone today.” His fingers begin stroking my upper arm, but I pull away.
“We’re not a thing, Jareth, this”—I motion to him and then point to my chest—“is never going to be a thing, so stop pretending like everything’s all right, because it isn’t. I might have mixed feelings for you, but it doesn’t excuse your actions, your lies.”
I sit and fling the covers from my legs. “This isn’t a story where the love-struck saps get together after overcoming an impossible hurdle.”
Kodiak brushes my leg after I stand, and I rub between his eyes. He pants and gives me a small whine.
“You’re the villain, Jareth, and I’m the stupid-ass fool who fell for your lies.”
He jumps out of the bed and reaches for me, desperation on his face. “You’re not a fool. I want to fix this, fix us. We belong together—I feel it in my bones, my heart.”
My body cringes from his touch. “No, just stop. When I see your face, all the suffering you’ve brought into my life comes flooding back with full force. To make things worse, those memories of being happy on the road, believing your words, crushes my soul into oblivion.”
Rubbing the metal table next to the head of the bed, I focus on breathing instead of crying. It’s cool and tough, just like my heart. “And that’s the worst part. If it was just pain, I could heal. But those bits of happiness, built on deceit, hurt worse than the lies themselves, because they show what a weak, feeble, and lonely thing I’d become—and still am.”
That full bottom lip of his pinches, as if he wants to speak, but holds the words inside. Instead, he adjusts the silver bands of his sleeves and picks up a small, slim piece of glass, its rectangular shape fitting into his hand. There’s a portrait on the display, but at this angle, it’s difficult to make out the image without craning my neck.
And honestly, I don’t give enough of a
shit to care what he’s looking at.
My bladder’s screaming for release, and I shake my head. “Just forget it. Nothing matters anymore besides my sister and dog. Get the hell out of here, Jareth.”
He looks at me, eyes slit and incredulous. “You’re kicking me out of my place?”
“Well, when you say it like that, yeah.”
His finger traces the image on the display before he throws it on the bed. He moves forward, and I step back and reach for the wall, not trusting myself against the pull of his allure and charisma. I don’t want my body or heart to betray me again.
The nearness of his torso makes me push myself against the smooth surface to avoid contact. He’s less than an inch away from my face. “I own this ship, and everything—everyone—inside.”
This close, I’m sure I can knee him in the crotch, but I might piss on myself in the process.
“Well, I’m not yours, so stick that up your ass, Mr. High and Mighty Prince.”
He grinds his teeth together, and his eyes bore holes into my brain.
I’m drawn to the clean, fresh skin and squash down a pang of regret.
My vision traces his upper lip to his nose, but there isn’t any sign of damage from my mean right hook last night. Of course not, these assholes can heal themselves in the blink of an eye. In the clear light of day and without a drunken haze, I’m not even guilty for hitting him—he had it coming, and then some.
“If anyone else said that to me, I’d have them punished.” His words are quiet and threatening.
I try to control a shiver creeping over the nape of my neck without success. “I’m not scared of you, Jareth. You can’t hurt me any worse than you already have.” Inside, though, a tendril of fear snakes its way through my limbs.
A muscle in his jaw ticks. He presses both hands to the wall, one on either side of my head. His mouth touches my ear, hot breath making my insides clench.
He whispers, “That’s my girl.” Velvet lips graze my chin before he pulls back. “Try to control yourself and don’t trash my quarters while I’m gone.” With that, he grabs a fresh coat from a closet, then slams the door shut when he leaves.
My lungs remember to breathe again, and I sprint toward the bathroom before I make a puddle on the royal carpet.
Cocky asshole, thinking he owns people. Is this a glimpse of the man he was before? The thought causes a cold chill to settle in my veins. What have I gotten myself into?
Kodiak follows me into the room, jumping every few steps and smacking my butt with his paws.
“Okay, okay, good morning to you, too, ya goober.” He grabs my hand and forces me to pet his big head. I can’t help but smile. He’s my talisman—my only true friend.
When I finish my business, I inspect the bathroom. There’s a row of live, green plants mounted in a recess on the wall, outside of the shower glass. They give off a fresh, natural vibe and offset the bold red, silver, and black hues. My eyes move to the bathing area. The idea of fresh, clean water pouring over my recovered hangover skin sounds wonderful.
The shower appears simple. Panel displays glow inside. Surely, I can figure out how to turn water on.
Fuck it, I’m not passing on a chance to take a hot shower. He can kiss my ass if he thinks I’m going to cower in front of him and not touch his royal possessions just because he’s supposed to be some sort of hotshot.
I strip off the hideous body suit and slide a glass door open. Inside, the area’s gigantic, big enough to fit ten people with plenty of elbow room. A wooden bench lines one entire side of glass. The wall where the controls sit is dull red, with a silver border at the top, and black tiles cover the floor. Everywhere are those three colors, a not-so-subtle reminder of who’s in charge. I’m going to end up hating these colors before all’s said and done.
A sleek, metal nozzle hangs above my head. I move to the panel on the wall, which lights up with blue, indecipherable writing.
“How does this damn thing work?”
Tapping on the screen, I wait for something to happen. A shower of ice water rains down on my skin and I yelp. A quick smack on another area of the display makes the water turn warm. My head leans back into the steamy liquid, and I moan with pleasure. The heat is like a soothing balm to the soul.
After standing under the soaking downpour for several minutes, I take several small bottles hanging from a rack. I sniff each one to determine the difference between shampoo and soap. “Which one’s which?”
Kodiak, looking through the glass, gives a short bark when I touch a green bottle.
“This one?” He wags his tail and places a paw against the surface. Since it smells the least like Jareth, I trust my dog’s answer and soap myself from head to toe.
While I’m scrubbing, my mind wanders to that first night in the cave, when Jareth looked so delicious, I couldn’t stop staring. Memories spill over one another, from the stupid door he made, how I’d laughed when Kodiak destroyed it, to how embarrassed he’d been by his shoddy craftsmanship. The look on his face when he thought I ate squirrels and possums was priceless. The image causes a loud chuckle to sneak out. Now I understand why he was so horrified. I guess Baltin royalty doesn’t consider squirrels a delicacy.
This man, who I detest so much, also tears my heart in half with some other emotion that’s not hate. Fear and shame cause me to refrain from saying the L word. There’s no way I can have feelings for someone like him, can I? That would be the most fucked up thing in the world, and yet . . .
He saved me from death, gave me music, and made me trust him. All the bittersweet moments ache in my chest. The time spent on the road with him, Kodiak, and Sparky are precious, and they’re based on nothing more than a fabrication.
Knowing the truth of who he is and what he’s done taints my soul with something dark, twisted, and poisonous. The knowledge rips me apart, piece by piece. I want to find my sister and forget what he’s done to me—what he’s still doing to me.
“This is such bullshit—” My hand slaps at the tiles in frustration “—why couldn’t I have fallen for a normal, human man? Not some jackass alien who’s morally ambiguous and an egomaniac.” Yet, I can’t deny how he makes me feel, even knowing the dangers he poses for me—for Earth and its meager collection of humans.
I’m just as screwed up as he is.
Sighing, I finish rinsing my hair and tap the screen until the water stops. When I step out, I grab a thick towel hanging from a shelf and dry off.
As I bend to retrieve discarded clothes, my fingers grasp at air. They’re gone. “What the—”
A fluffy, furry tail disappears around the door, and an empty leg of the dark gray suit drags on the floor behind it.
“Kodiak. Bring my clothes back. Right. Now.” The thought of having to follow the mischievous dog around this place, half-naked, just to get my stuff is annoying. “You’re walking on thin ice, boy.”
I’m about to jerk the door wide open and give chase, but a small double tap sounds on the frame.
In a hurry, I wrap the towel around my torso. I’m sure it’s Granny Eva, the meddlesome old crone.
I step to the door and open it all the way.
Jareth’s eyes dart to my towel-wrapped figure then slide over my face. He swallows. “I didn’t realize it was my birthday.”
My eyebrows draw together. “What?”
He rubs a thumb across his bottom lip. “You’re all wrapped up like a present waiting to be opened.”
The temperature of my body rises. “What’re you doing here?” I prop a hand on my waist. “Thought you had some kind of fancy shit to do? Like carry out my planet’s extinction.”
“Peace offering for being a moody jerk.” He shoves my backpack at me. “Looks like I came to the rescue right on time.”
My toes tap a rhythm on the floor, and I cross my arms. I don’t want to take his offering, but I can’t deny it’s going to be wonderful to wear real clothes again.
“I wanted you to have your stuff, minus the
guns. I’d prefer to keep my brains inside my head.”
The sight of the worn, khaki backpack fills me with joy. Everything I own is in that bag, so I take the straps from his hand. “Thanks.” My tone’s ungrateful.
Water drips from my hair and runs over my shoulders onto the towel.
“Welcome.” He shifts his weight and leans onto the frame. “I see you’re making yourself at home, and”—he points to the shower behind me and widens his eyes in feigned surprise—“it’s still in one piece.”
My fingers wring excess water from my hair. “The day’s not over yet. It might be a good time to start thinking about an interior decorator.”
That crooked grin curves his lips and twists my insides. His dimple, no longer partially hidden by the beard, taunts me.
He leans forward and sniffs. “Do humans always use dog shampoo when they shower?”
Damn it, Kodiak. You set me up for that, didn’t you?
Heat floods my neck and burns my cheeks. “Well, I can’t read anything on this damn ship, and picked the bottle Kodiak seemed the most interested in. Now I know why.” I squeeze the towel tighter. “It’s not going to hurt me, is it?”
He rubs a hand up and down the doorframe then rests his head on the surface, looking at me with hooded eyes. “Nah, it might make you start growling and get an intense urge to pee on the furniture, but I don’t see how that’s any different from your normal behavior.”
I smack him across the chest. “That’s it. Get out, ass.”
His rich, low chuckle echoes in the bathroom even after I close the door and lean on it for support, willing my pulse to normalize.
Chapter Twenty-Two
After dressing, I walk to the front door, with Kodiak at my heels. Now that Jareth’s gone, I try to devise a plan to get out of here. I don’t know how I’m going to sneak off this ship and back to earth, but I’ll worry about it when it gets to that point.
When I crack the doors open, every robot in the hallway turns and raises their right arm in unison.
Yeah, nothing to see here. I close the door and tiptoe back to the sitting room. No escape right now.
The Descendant: Baltin Trilogy (Book 1) Page 34