Having Veda here to plant it would be better.
As if hearing her name in his thoughts, she turns, catching his eye. A single brow raises. Hiram has to get out of his head, or he might do something to compromise this tenuous trust they’ve built. That would be terribly stupid.
Hiram swears to the empty kitchen as the water starts to boil.
Antaris falls asleep after dinner before he can wander. Hiram puts him to bed and returns to find Veda holding a glass of wine.
“Peter said he’d come by to take me home. My bike will be ready in two days.”
He can’t admit that he doesn’t want her to leave, so he nods. “Thanks again for starting the herb garden.”
“They’ll do better here than in my kitchen. I only had them because they reminded me of home. My mom kept an herb garden. I’ve always loved the smell of fresh herbs. It’s comforting.”
The faint meowing of the cat makes Hiram sigh. “He acts like nobody ever feeds him.”
“Do you not like animals?”
“Cats are fine, even though they make my face itch. I have a list of other animals I don’t respect.”
“Don’trespect?” Veda bites back her smile. “Go on. Top three animals on that list and why.”
“Orcas are bullies, mosquitoes are pests, and hippos are deceptive,” Hiram rattles off without hesitation. Leaning closer, he adds, “And no, I won’t explain.”
She stares at him blankly, then laughs.
Hiram smiles at the sound. Veda’s treatment has been less hate and more tolerance, leaving Hiram wondering how much he can continue to shift her wind.
Angling sideways to face her, he watches her laughter fade, her inscrutable countenance returning. Veda checks her watch, then reaches for the drink she already finished and grimaces. Hiram thinks she’s going to wait by the door for Peter or check on the planted herbs, but she leans against the edge of the island and asks, “What do you do when he goes to bed?”
Hiram is slow to answer. “I mostly read. Either books or research. Why?”
“I’m making conversation, or else we’re going to sit in silence until Peter gets here. So, do you have hobbies?”
“I don’t have many hobbies, never had time for them, or quiet days or nights. Sometimes I finish tasks I’ve neglected, prepare for the next day, or clean. Or Peter comes over for beers.”
“Do you ever stop moving?”
“No,” Hiram says. “If I do, everything I balance will collapse.”
Veda closes her eyes. “I feel like that sometimes. If I stop, the bind will fade, and this Sanguis Curse will consume me.”
“Does it hurt?”
“When I neglect myself by not eating right to keep my energy up. It’s worse when I skip swimming in Nénuphar.”
“So . . . often.”
Veda rolls her eyes. “You sound like Khadijah.”
“Shocking that this is the one thing we agree on.”
“Yeah, well, she gives a shit, while you—I’m not sure what you’re doing, actually.”
“I’m keeping my word.” Because he wants to. And perhaps to prove he can.
“You don’t have to.” Veda’s soft frown fades when she picks up the meowing kitten.
“I want to,” Hiram replies.
