“Lean forward,” you said and soon after, a soft sponge was caressing my back. Water dripped down my spine and your calming circular strokes soothed my muscles. It felt so good to curl forward and stretch my neck, to do anything other than lie in a bed.
“Lift your arms.”
I’d missed your easy commands and the way you took control when I needed it most. You held my hand and drew the sponge along my inner arm. The water sluiced down my skin and tickled my armpit. You washed me there, and my face flushed. It must be the heat.
“Would you like me to do your front?” you offered.
“I can do it.” I took the sponge from you, stood on shaky legs, and scrubbed myself down—chest, abdomen, groin, then bent over to do my thighs and shins. You were behind me, getting a full view of my ass, if you cared to look.
“I’m scrawny now.” I sunk back into the water with my knees to my chest so that I could hide. I’d never been embarrassed by my body before.
“You’ve always been slender.”
“Not like this.”
“No, not like this,” you said with a deep exhale.
You offered to wash my hair, so I leaned back to wet it in the water, then surfaced again. You lathered your hands and started at the base of my skull, working your way up slowly. My neck felt like rubber as your fingers massaged my scalp. The sensation was almost too much, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying again.
“That feels nice.” I was so tired all of a sudden. The walk from my bed to the tub really wore me out.
“I want you to feel good.” Your softly spoken words were followed by a long pause.
“What is it?” I asked as I braced myself for bad news.
“Lucian can return your sight.”
“He can?” I’d never considered it a possibility. “How?”
“With human eyes.”
“Where would he get them?” Lucian didn’t exactly conform to the standards of the Hippocratic Oath.
“From a donor.” As if knowing the reason for my worry, you added, “From a consenting, already deceased donor.”
“Would they restore my powers?” I had mixed feelings about it. I wanted them back, but they also made me a target.
“No, just your vision.”
You finished lathering my hair and used some container to spill water over my head, shielding my face with your hand just like you used to do when I was little to keep the soap from getting in my eyes. Was that how you saw me now? Like a child?
I turned toward you and reached for your hand. “What do you think I should do?”
I wanted you to tell me you didn’t care if I was sightless or not, that you’d love me no matter what. I hoped it was true, but I wasn’t sure about your feelings toward me now, if it was romantic love or only a sense of duty that bound you to me.
“I’d like to show you my islands,” you said.
“Oh… right.” I drew my hand away and ran it through my hair to slick it back.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
I was being unreasonable. I should be grateful that Lucian had this skill and my body had the ability to adapt to human eyes. Even still, my mood turned black. My bad temper came on at the worst times, and I didn’t know how to control it.
“I do have a prophecy to fulfill,” I said with some bitterness.
You traced my jaw, softly, because I was delicate now. Broken. “I have no expectations for you, Vincent.”
It wasn’t your intention, but it only made me feel worse. I’d been special before—a bloodborn Nephilim who could conjure any confession, even yours. In my last months of interrogating Azrael’s soldiers, I hadn’t even needed to touch them, my seduction was that powerful. Now, I needed help to use the bathroom or cross the room. No wonder you were treating me like a child.
“Tell Lucian I’ll do it.”
All I’d ever wanted was for you to see me as your equal.
