“Would you have died?”
“No. Not from the poison, in any case. I might not have made it here to safety. Any number of things might’ve attacked and eaten me out there. You very well might’ve saved my life.”
“Then we’re even. In that, at least. There’s still the matter of my needing revenge for what you did at the Demigod convention all those years ago, and then taking me captive and using me as a toy…”
“My goodness. You’re still mad from all those years ago? You really do hold a grudge.”
“Revenge is a hardy pastime.”
“Indeed.”
They pulled off the dusty top sheet and slept in their underwear, him on his stomach with his arms down at his sides so he wouldn’t take up the whole bed. She stayed on her back, hating to sleep on her stomach, the pain nothing but a dull ache. A large space existed between them, and she didn’t even have time to think about his touch. As soon as she laid her head on the striped, soft pillow, a heaviness dragged down her lids.
She awokewith a start sometime later. Light filtered in through the shades drawn over the small windows. It was impossible to tell the time. Warmth radiated at her side, and the pain from the poison was all gone, the plant having helped and her body handling the rest. Aweight settled across her upper belly, a band of heat right below her breasts.
Tarian still lay on his stomach, but during their slumber, they’d each moved, closing the gap between them until his side was against her arm and his arm was draped across her body, as though holding on to her to ensure she stayed near him.
She let her head drift to the side, catching his handsome face, so serene in sleep. So peaceful. All the fine lines of stress or pain had eased away into sculpted perfection. His back rose and fell rhythmically—he was still deeply under.
Nervousness flitted through her. She wasn’t a person who engaged in intimacy like this. She hadn’t had partners over or stayed the night at their places. She hadn’t woken up next to them, their bodies attached to her like a tether. Confusingly—horribly?—she had to admit…she liked it. She liked the feeling of his touch upon waking. Watching him sleep.
That couldn’t be good…right? That couldn’t be normal, staring at someone sleeping like a creeper?
It prowls.
She frowned at the voice. Tarian didn’t stir. He hadn’t said it.
But then, she knew that. The other voice—the presence—didn’t sound like him. Didn’t even sound like a person, really. It was like…an echo of a thought. An abstract drifting in her mind, somehow making sense, but she couldn’t pinpoint why.
It senses you.
She didn’t bother asking what it was talking about.
What are you?she asked instead.Why doesn’t Tarian hear you?
I am everything and nothing. I am the forgotten and the found. The fabric of the world that is no longer needed.
And speaking gibberish. Are you the wylds? A split part of my personality? Some other entity?
I am not you, but you are me.
Time to change topics. She’d never been very good at nonsense or riddles.
How does it sense me?she asked.Because of earlier?
It senses danger. It senses its demise. It feasts on carrion and destruction. Its time is nearly at an end, and it knows it.
The pulse was faint. The creature wasn’t close and the voice wasn’t making any sense.
She realized she’d been staring at Tarian while talking to it, and now he opened his eyes slowly. His pupils shrank into pinpricks as he focused on her.
How do you feel?she asked as her stomach rumbled.
His gaze touched her lips and slid down to where their bodies touched. Where his arm was slung over her. Finally to her stomach. He was either feeling or hearing her hunger.
Decent. Not in tip-top shape, but good enough to be moving.
He didn’t move for a moment, and then his elbow bent, as though he were about to pull it away. She thought about putting her hand on it to stop him. Thought about rolling to him to capture his lips again. She didn’t need to make either choice.
