When she shifts her stance, my gaze is drawn down to her powerful shoulders and back. She’s only wearing a spaghetti strap shirt, so I can see all the muscles flex as she flips the pancakes that drew me out here. A tattoo that resembles a snake winds from the nape of her neck over her right shoulder and disappears out of my sight. The outline is all in black, but the scales appear to be emerald green, similar to the color of my snakes in my gorgon form. I’m curious to see the rest of it.
“Good morning, my little relic. Are you enjoying the view?” she asks, catching me off guard.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She shakes her head. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m making breakfast, but I’m sure you already knew that—these pancakes do smell pretty amazing. I’ve tried not to eat too many of them. Although it took every ounce of my control not to eat you for breakfast this morning, too.”
I blush and stumble over my words. “Thanks for making breakfast. Where, uh, are my clothes?”
She turns toward me with a pan in hand and drops it directly into the sink that’s positioned under the half-wall opening. “I’m washing them. You’re welcome to borrow some of mine. They’reall still packed up, so they can be tricky to find, but I’m not sure how well my bottoms will fit. You were definitely blessed in the ass department far more than I was. Or… you could wear nothing at all. I’m quite fine with that, too.”
With a nervous laugh, I begin my walk back down the hall, and she calls out, “Breakfast will be ready when you get back out here.”
Thankfully, I’m able to find clothes relatively quickly once I’ve figured out where things are. I go through three pairs of shorts before I can find ones I’m able to squeeze into, and I curse her for being right about my ass. When I’m done, I head back out to the living room. The hunter is standing with her back to me again in the kitchen, but she turns toward me rather quickly this time.
She looks me up and down as she waves me in. “I see you were able to find something. Your breakfast is here on the table. Come, sit.”
My stomach grumbles, reminding me just how hungry I am, and I internally scold it as I make my way into the kitchen. To the left, under another window, is a small, round table with one chair and a plate of food.
“Where’s yours?” I ask.
She waves me off, and I sit. “I ate a little bit while I was waiting for you, but being what I am, I don’t require much in the way of ‘normal food’.”
My brows furrow. “And what exactlyareyou?”
She sighs. “I walked right into that. My kind are called a lot of things; I think doppelgänger and mimic are the ones I prefer most.”
I choke on the food I was just about to swallow. When she moves to help me, I hold out my hand and take a sip of the milk she’d given me. After clearing my throat a few times, I look up at her. “You’re a skinwalker?”
A growl rumbles in her chest. “I fucking hate that term.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “I’m sorry. That’s the way I’ve always heard your kind referred to.”
“It’s not your fault,” she says, pausing for a deep breath. “I apologize for that visceral reaction. The term brings up a lot of bad memories.”
I take a bite of my food and nod. “So, being a doppelgänger must be useful in your line of work, I assume.”
“It’s helpful for sure and also likely how I’ve lived so long.”
Clearing my throat, I wipe any excess crumbs from my face. “May I ask how old you are?”
She laughs. “Let’s just say I’m ahellof a lot older than I look, Roxanna.”
I cringe. “Please just call me Roxi. Roxanna is so formal and makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”
A beautiful smile lights up her face. “Roxi suits you.”
I blush and take another bite of my food. “How do you know my name? I know you’re a hunter, but you said you weren’t after me.”
She sighs and rubs her hand over her face. “One of my assignments was for one of your father’s guards. That’s when I first saw you. I abandoned my assignment and watched you for several days before I almost lost control of myself and had to… feed. When I went back to check on you, everything andeveryone were gone. After that, I did everything in my power to find out who you were.”
“Do you remember who you were hunting?”
She takes a moment to think. “I’m pretty sure his name was Calen.” My heart skips a beat, and my face must show my shock because her brows furrow. “I’m going to guess you’re familiar with him.”
Placing my fork on my plate, I stumble over my words. “Y-yeah, I was.”
Her jaw ticks. “How familiar with him were you?”
