I frowned at the snug costume that covered most of my skin, itching to take it off. But since I’d left my battle kilt where I’d changed, I had nothing else to wear.
“How’s your leg?”
I snapped my head up, startled by her question.
“You’re touching it and grimacing,” she said, explaining what I hadn’t even asked.
“It is fine,” I said, although something told me it wasn’t.
She sat up. “You cut yourself with the end of a spoon that wasn’t sterilized. It might have stopped bleeding, but it should be cleaned properly.”
I grunted, flicking my gaze around the room. “With what?”
Her lips thinned for a beat. “When Athena comes back, I’ll ask her for some water and a cloth. Maybe some bandages. This is a theatre. I’m sure they have all sorts of supplies.”
“I hope they have food,” I muttered as my stomach groaned.
Skye flopped back onto the bed. “Don’t think about it. The more you think about being hungry, the hungrier you’ll be.”
I moved myself to one of the saggy ottomans, the puff deflating considerably from my weight. “Does that work for you? Trying not to think about something?”
She blew out a breath loudly. “No. Earlier you told me not to think about the heat, and you were right. Now being hungry isall I can think about. Even that awful Zagrath soup doesn’t seem so bad.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I am notthathungry.”
She laughed, rolling her head to one side to look at me. “I don’t know much about Vandar food. What’s it like?” Then, as if she just remembered that I couldn’t remember, she sucked in a quick breath. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It is fine,” I said, as scents and tastes flashed back to me. “I think I remember some foods—spicy stew and soft bread.”
A soft moan slipped from her lips. “I would kill for some bread right now. Jasmine’s bakery made the most delicious bread. It was a recipe passed down from her parents.” She closed her eyes and dragged in a deep breath. “I can almost smell the yeast if I think about it hard enough.”
I closed my eyes as well, concentrating on the vague memories of soft bread and reaching for the memories that danced just out of reach like wisps of smoke.
“This isn’t helping, is it?”
I opened my eyes and found Skye watching me. “No, it isn’t.”
Her expression slid from amusement to something more tender. “I’m sorry about your memories. It must be pretty scary not to remember who you are.”
Somewhere deep inside, I bristled at the idea of being scared. “I am still me, even if I don’t recall every detail of my past. My Vandar instincts are still there.”
“That’s true. You fight like a badass even if you don’t remember how you know how to do the things you do.”
It was hard to explain that I remembered the feeling of being Vandar—the power, the courage, the determination—even if I didn’t know how I did. It was muscle memory that responded when I was in a fight, but there was a deeper awareness that remained at my core. And at my core, I knew that Vandar were brave and honorable, and the Zagrath were my enemy. For now, that was enough.
“It doesn’t help that we’re far away from anything familiar,” Skye said, turning her head so she faced the ceiling. “Nothing around here strikes me as very Vandar.”
I thought of the heat of the city, the extravagant stage sets, and the scent of dust and grime that had clung to the alleys. None of it felt familiar.
Correction. One thing felt familiar. My gaze lingered on the female stretched across the bed. Of all the things in the strange city, she felt safe. She felt like a piece of the puzzle that fit perfectly. It didn’t matter that she insisted we hadn’t been lovers. It didn’t matter that the thought of humans in general made me uneasy. It didn’t even matter that she claimed I hadn’t liked her.
There was one advantage to having memories stripped away. It left only instincts and feelings—and my instincts told me that Skye was mine. Even if she didn’t know it yet, I did.
Chapter
Twenty
Skye
