“Be still.” Cheriour knelt beside me. He didn’t do or say anything else. He just stayed there, one hand resting on my arm, the heat from his palm seeping into my skin. I listened to the steady cadence of his breathing and tried to force my lungs to follow the same rhythm. At first, it was like trying to inhale underwater. But it got easier. It always did. And, once I’d stopped straining for air, everything else re-stabilized. I was still shaking and dripping in a cold sweat. But my head cleared.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
Cheriour drew away and stood, holding out a hand to help me to my feet.
“Guess this is another thing to report to Quinn.” I slapped my clammy palm into his. “‘The useless bitch has meltdowns over a fucking candle.’”
Cheriour hauled me off the floor. “This room has been vacant for several months—”
I sniffled. “Is that supposed to, like, justify me losing my shit?” I had a lovely tear/snot combo streaming down my face. And my knees wobbled so hard, I had to brace my hand on the wall to keep my balance.
Cheriour moved around the room again, throwing the window shutters open. “Give it a few moments and the air won’t seem as thin in here. Tomorrow I’ll find clothes for you.”
“Hmm…” This wasn’t the first time I’d been offered clothes. Belanna had tried to give me a dead woman’s shirt and pants the other day. “Can’t I—”
“The garments you wear are impractical,” Cheriour said. “You will need new clothes.”
I looked down at my dress. It was grimy but had held up surprisingly well. My leggings? Not so much. They looked more like fishnets now. That was what I got for buying the cheap pack at Walmart.
“Meals are served in the kitchen at dawn, midday, and dusk,” Cheriour continued. “But tomorrow eveningthere will be a gathering at supper to discuss recent events. I expect you to be—”
A bug scurried across the floor, right in front of my foot. Some kinda fat beetle. “Fuck!” I squealed, jumping backward and slamming my shoulder against the door frame.
“It’s an insect,” Cheriour said dryly. “It won’t hurt you.”
“I hate bugs.” And, considering the filthy state of the room, the bed was probably chock full of creepy crawlies. No way I was sleeping there tonight.
“They’ll not bother you.” He paused, running a hand over his snarled ponytail. “If you wish to clean yourself...”
My ears perked up at that. “You guys have a shower?”
“There is a communal bathing room on the first floor you may use.”
Communal bathing room? “That sounds disgusting.”
“Then don’t use it. Now, I am needed downstairs. Do you need anything before I leave?”
“Actually…” My brain made an almost audiblewhir-whirsound as it got back online. “I have two questions.”
He sighed but waved his arm for me to continue.
“Who did this room belong to? Quinn was pretty damn adamant he didn’t want me staying here...”
“The room belonged to Lasair. The former ruler of Netheridge.”
“Former? As in—”
“She’s gone,” Cheriour said flatly.
“Ah.” OMG. The death rate here was throughthe freaking roof!
“And your other question?” Cheriour pressed.
“Well…what happened earlier…”Whycould I still feel that knife slicing through my hair? I swallowed as goosebumps raced along the back of my neck. “Quinn tried tokillme. Because…he saw my eyes? Did I hear that right?”
It took Cheriour a bit to respond. He pursed his lips. Frowned. Tugged at the ends of his beard.
“Don’t strain yourself,” I said.
