My head throbs.
Damn that sorceress who locked me away all those years ago.
It hasn’t been quite as long as I thought. It felt like two centuries, but judging by the calendar stuck to herfridge—another new word—it was closer to a century-and-a-half.
Still.
So much has changed. Has humanity always moved this fast?
Some of the change is probably for the best. The rest? Not so much. There’s too much chaos now.
And I don’t know where my enemies are. I’m sure there’s still out there.
Waiting.
I don’t know the first thing about this strange new world.
But at least the food is good. I lean back against the kitchen counter while I help myself.
What a strange place.
What a trusting little human.
The bathroom door clicks, and out she walks in what must be the tiniest scraps of clothing I’ve ever seen.
Pajamas. There’s the word, just like I’ve always known.
But it might as well be her underwear.
The top cuts off just below her breasts, and there’s two adorable eyes staring out at me from the fabric. Yes. Eyes.
I nearly choke on the cereal I’ve been downing.
I think it’s supposed to be a caricature of a panda bear, but it’s hard to be sure.
Either way, it’s impossible to do anything other than stare.
Was that her intention? Is this little human planning to seduce me? Because if she is, it’ll never work.
For one thing, she’s weak.
I hate weaklings.
Though—she does have a nice shape. Something long-forgotten sizzles deep within as my gaze slides over her curves, and I push the feeling down, wrenching my gaze away.
She’s a human, I remind myself.
And a pathetic, helpless one at that.
“Hey!” she says, the hands she’s placed on her hips drawing my eyes back down. “Just help yourself to the whole kitchen, why don’t you?”
She tries to swipe the cereal box out of my hand, but I hold it out of her reach.Easily. She’s so short.
I forgot how short humans are.
And—I glance at the gauze tied over her upper arm.
She’s injured.
