“And you’ll be right here for that last step with the runes,” she added.
“It’s all in the name of efficiency,” Kizros agreed, gesturing toward the first ingredients. “Alright, step one…”
Kizros had never seen such a smooth process, watching how Aofe immersed herself in the steps. There was a flow of energy that she channeled, one he felt tugging at his core. She was deliberate, not entirely flawless, but in a way that said she understood her body and what it could do. When an ingredient was out of reach, she knew just where to place her feet and hands to lean and grab it. When she fumbled something, there was always an extra finger or a braced elbow to keep anything from breaking.
Aofe lost herself in the work, and so did Kizros. Between steps, he talked to her about runes, about the soil of his favorite plants, about his friend Ragnar who was a giant grump but had a soft spot for beasts that no one else would ever consider going near, let alone raising. She laughed at jokes Tholvich had rolled his eyes at, asked about his favorite things to do in Heck, and let him rant about human sorcery which took all the beauty of magic and turned it into destruction.
He’d barely noticed they were on the final step when he saw the slight shake of her hand. The vial lid was narrow, and after all the things she’d had to mix, etch, and measure today, she had to have been exhausted. He’d have to remember tomorrow not to work her at his pace all day.
Kizros swept in, steadying her arms before she could drop the glass and all her hard work. He guided her hands to cap the potion, then let his forefinger clawextend to draw the rune. It was swift, just a couple swipes of the sharpest nail point on the glass, and then it was glowing green. It faded just as quickly, and he let out a satisfied hum.
“Done, and someexcellentwork, I must say.” He grinned, looking down at her.
Aofe was staring at him, mouth parted.
Blazes, had he broken her? He tried to quickly calculate what damage was done. His body was caging her into the counter, but it was only a proximity. The only touch he’d offered her… well, he was still offering it. Her hands were still cupped in his, arms dwarfed by his own as he somewhat cradled her body. She was seated at the stool, but even crouching, he was much larger than her, able to look down and see all the freckles dusting her pierced nose. The soft plump lip she tugged between her teeth. The brighter pink of her cheeks.
So… not broken.
“You’re staring,” he said, voice rough.
She blinked, then swallowed quickly and turned back. “Sorry, just…”
Aofe withdrew her hands from his, slowly enough it made Kizros wonder if she had enjoyed his lingering touch. But then she sucked in a breath, and a smile overtook her features. It was warm enough he almost didn’t miss her touch, or the comfort that she’d shown with him being so close.
“That was exciting,” Aofe breathed. “We could do another?”
Kizros laughed, relieved that her earlier disappointment with the runes hadn’t ruined the entire day. “Perhaps tomorrow. It’s well past closing, and my stomach has been aching for dinner.”
The promise of food was enough to have them locking the shop and heading upstairs, but the lingering coolness of her skin on his lasted well beyond the meal.
5
THE LOSING BATTLE
Aofe
Eight days since being rescued and taken to Heck. Four days of working for a demon.
Routine was always better to keep Aofe busy. It gave her something to push through, a purpose, and she inhaled the information Kizros gave her. She might not have the same education as the demon, but she could follow instructions and learn on the go. There had been a benefit to spending so much of her life in infirmaries, despite the annoyance it had caused her aunt and uncle, but they didn’t deserve her thoughts on that any longer. It didn’t matter now,theydidn’t matter, only that she adjusted to her new life.
Which was going to be a challenge, considering how her body currently felt.
Aofe glanced out the window as she sat at the front counter, letting her latest attempt at the preventative mixture settle. She’d gotten Kizros’s help with more of the substitute ingredients, but no matter what she did, she could not get it to be palatable. Just a touch of that bitterness on her tongue made her want to retch, and it was almost worse than actually dealing with period cramps.
But the moon taunted her through the window, stealing her thoughts. Day, but not. Always dark, always cold, and the aching in her joints—particularly the dislocation of her hip that she’d already had to fix twice today—plus the sluggishness of the morning were starting to compound.
She turned back to the task at hand because knives in an unsteady grip were a recipe for disaster. With a few unintentionally jagged cuts, she sliced off the piece of fruit she’d grabbed from the kitchen counter earlier. Food in Heck wasn’t all that different than she’d expected; they had their own variations of meat, vegetables, and fruit. Nothing had upset her stomach—though the meat had been a little more gamey than she was used to—but she hadn’t tried everything yet.
Including this odd-looking fruit-thing. The rind was a deep pink, with soft spiky bits that looked like they were meant to be peeled back—if she’d been capable of that. But she was currently in denial and pretended that using a knife was a more civilized way to remove the skin of the fruit.
The pit was firm and a soft white, but the fleshy, edible part was a lush yellow that reminded her of day lilies. Howsad, that she was fantasizing about the daytime in a fruit she could hold in her hand.
Then she took a bite.
“Sinful sugar,” she blurted around the juices blooming on her tongue. It wasn’t just a reminder of day; this was sunshine in a food. Sweet, but not overpowering. A perfect flavor to wash that lingering bitterness?—
Aofe grabbed a crutch, stumbling to the back room where Kizros was working. He was hunched over his worktable, so focused on his measuring that she stopped herself at the doorway.
