“Why does he look so scared?” she whispers, biting her lower lip.
Coming forward, I gently nudge the changeling’s shoulder. It takes a couple of slow steps, like it’s making a conscious effort not to appear like a threat. It holds a hand out, palm up, and just waits.
Cambria doesn’t reach for it, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s afraid of him, or afraid of hurting him. Her? It? I’m starting to feel like a real asshole referring to the little black hole as whatever skin it’s currently wearing, like it doesn’t have its own identity outside of that.
Slowly, he drops his hand, deflating and retreating like she rejected it. As ridiculous as it is, I wrap an arm around his shoulders to comfort the little murderer.
Clucking my tongue, I meet Cambria’s eye. “Well, that wasn’t very nice.”
She throws her arms up dramatically in defeat. “I don’t want to suck him dry! Wejustestablished that the hungrier he is, the more unpredictable he gets. You might be more useful to him alive as an infinite, accessible food source, but only if you’re both healthy. If he let you die, then so would his easy food source. Since you’re still low on energy and there are other options, of course he’ll lean towards those instead. But if there’s nothing else around and he’s starving, he won’t hesitate to eat you. I might be safe because of the deal, but you sold your damn soul to the little psycho!”
I gesture to my new pet’s face, looking all dejected and pitiful. “You hurt his feelings.”
She gives me an incredulous look before flipping me off as she flings out her other hand, irritated. But it worked. She isn’t withdrawing into herself, lost in a spiral of self-deprecation. She’s just completely fed up with life and that aggravation will serve her well in the coming days, when things are bound to get harder long before they have a hope of getting any easier.
The changeling shuffles forward hesitantly, eyeing her several times as if convinced it’s a trap, before taking her hand in his. Flipping it over, he bends to kiss the back respectfully and Cambria softens just ever so slightly. When his tongue flits across her skin she tenses again, but when he presses her palm against his cheek, gazing at her intently, she starts to relax when it’s clear she isn’t pulling from him unintentionally.
“I think he wants you to feed him.”
Swallowing, she tries to, but it doesn’t flow as easily as it does when she drains someone. Licking her lips, she closes her eyes, starting to sing softly. Gradually her voice grows stronger, and the changeling’s eyes flutter shut as his nostrils flare, sucking in a long, slow breath.
I used to hate being on the outside looking in, but not anymore. Not when I can watch the way the invisible walls Cambria perpetually keeps up to protect herself fall, to have a front row seat as she surrenders herself to something bigger than her, something neither of us really understands. And this bloodthirsty, brutal killer, purring like a kitten under her attention.
When her song tapers off and she opens her eyes, there is a sense of peace there that I’ve yet to see in all of the time I’ve known her, something imperceptible changing that I can only pretend to comprehend. The changeling blinks up at her with nothing short of absolute adoration, and if that isn’t a sign he’s practically my familiar, nothing is.
Because we’re both hopelessly in love with the girl standing before us.
Chapter 4
Cambria
––––––––
“We should get moving.”
I only make it a few steps into the water before there’s a frantic scurry of footsteps and I turn my head. The changeling, with the same low ponytail holding back his dark brown hair, and the illusion of simple leather pants and a cotton tunic, plasters his back to the bank, digging his fingers into the muddy ledge.
