“What in …?” Lia stared at the oven, then the burnt cake. “Were you trying to cook again?”
“I was bored, and I was craving something sweet.” Kenna threw the mittens at the cake. It landed on the burnt mound and fell to the side, right on top of an open notebook. I frowned. Books and notebooks and pens littered the island. “Shit.”
“Watch your language!” Lia rasped.
Kenna, blinking away the stink of smoke from her eyes, looked our way. Her eyes widened as she saw me.
My breath caught.
Her eyes … blue as the ocean under the bright sun. Although I didn’t care for her the orange dye streaking her brown hair, the color mixed with her fair skin emphasized how bright her eyes were.
“Who are you?” She turned a glare to her mother. “Who is he?”
“Oh, his name is Devon and he’s our next-door neighbor,” Lia said. She looked at me. “This is Kenna, my daughter.”
I extended my hand to her. “Nice to meet you.”
She stared at my outstretched hand, then turned to her mother again. “What is he doing here?” The bite in her tone added to my suspicions.
“He was—”
“I saw your mother struggling with the boxes. Thought I would help.” I almost barfed in my mouth over my lie. “Besides, I thought it would be a good opportunity to introduce myself.”
“Okay, you've met us,” Kenna said. “Thank you for your help. You can go now.”
“Kenna!” Lia admonished. “Don’t be a jerk.” Lia offered me a shy smile. “Sorry. It’s just … we’re not used to having company.” Her brows draw together. “What about your parents? Are they home?”
Behind Lia, Kenna shook her head. If I thought Lia had been wary of me, I was certain Kenna was. She wanted me gone five minutes ago, which only piqued my curiosity.
“They passed away long ago,” I told her my automatic lie.
Lia’s brown eyes shone with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
Muttering curses, Kenna picked up the pan and threw it in the sink.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. I’ve been on my own for a while now.”
“It must have been lonely,” Lia said, her voice low. I could see her entire demeanor changing. From wariness to sympathy. “You know what? I’m about to make dinner.” Kenna stared at Lia with her mouth open in shock. Lia pretended she didn’t see it. “Why don’t you stay? It would be nice to share a meal with a friendly neighbor.”
I looked at Kenna. She was glaring at me, seething from every pore.
For some reason, I took pleasure in irritating her. “Of course. I would love to.”
Lia spun around in the kitchen. “Okay, let me see.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about the mess. We’re still organizing everything, and with the repairs, it’ll be a mess for a while.” She opened a cabinet full of condiments. “Kenna, please, set the island for us.”
Nostrils flaring as she let out a long, angry breath, Kenna picked up her books, piled them up, and took them away. While she was gone, Lia grabbed a pot and filled it with water from the tap. Next, she pulled pasta from one of the cabinets and frozen meatballs from the freezer.
My brows curled down. What the fuck was I doing? I had never had so much interest in my neighbors before. Once I researched all their sordid details and found out they weren’t hiding anything mythical or a magical side, I was done with them. But these two … I blamed the fact that there was nothing online about them. That was the only reason I was curious and even accepted Lia's invitation to stay for fucking dinner.
Had I shared a dinner with a human since becoming a warrior five hundred years ago? Well … there was a short period of time, before my punishment, that I didn’t remember, but I honestly doubted I had shared a meal with a human family then either.
It just wasn’t me.
Stomping her feet, Kenna came back to the kitchen and grabbed dinner plates from inside the cabinet near the sink.
“I can help,” I said, reaching for the plates.
My hands cupped hers.
Blurred images exploded in my skull.
A girl in a beige and soft yellow dress stumbling back and falling; me reaching for her, grabbing her wrist, and keeping her steady.
“Devon?” I blinked, and the images went away. Kenna raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you okay?”
I took the plates from her. “Yeah, I am.” I turned around and placed the plates in front of three of the four stools around the kitchen’s island, aware of Kenna’s eyes watching my back.
When she moved and went to grab glasses, I let out a slow breath.
What the fuck was that? It had been my imagination, I was sure. A vision? A memory? But why? Of what? And why had it happened when I had touched Kenna?
Kenna stepped to my side and placed the glasses beside the plates. Then, she opened a drawer where the utensils were. Trying to be useful so I wouldn’t get kicked out, I looked around and found the napkins. I brought them to the island.
Kenna shook her head at me, then whirled to the counter and messed with her phone.
I didn’t want to get kicked out. Not yet. Because if I had been curious about my new neighbors before, it was nothing compared to how curious I was now.
Past
Kianna
After an entire day working on the farm, Kianna was tired. When the sun began to set, signaling the end of the work day, she couldn’t be more relieved. Until she saw the tools still in the field. Some of them couldn’t be left out in the weather, and some had to be cleaned before being put away; otherwise they would rust and break. And they couldn’t afford new tools right now.
Kianna looked around. Giles had already left. Catherine had come to call him for supper. Kianna couldn’t blame him for leaving with only a muttered goodbye. Besides his age, his house was a good walk from her family’s farm, and he liked to be home before the sun went down.
She smiled. Tomorrow, she would make sure to stop earlier and ask for his help before he left.
With a long sigh, Kianna knelt down and picked up a few of the smaller tools, bunching them up in her apron. Movement to her right caught her attention and she looked up.
Devon.
He was still plowing the second half of the field, where they would soon plant new seeds.
She stared at him, not because he was shirtless and his muscles flexed with each of his movements, or because his long, black hair, tied in a low ponytail, stuck to his sweaty back—her cheeks heated at that thought—but because he was a mystery to her. The quiet man, who wasn’t much older than she was, had been here for almost five days, and since then, he had been working relentlessly. He woke up early, ate the breakfast her mother handed to him, then went out to work. He took a break for a quick lunch, then worked past sunset. Most nights, he joined the family for dinner after a quick wash, but he remained mostly quiet, observing the family.
Sometimes, Kianna wondered if he had lost his memory, but didn’t want to ask. He had suffered some kind of accident, lost his memory, found himself alone and wandering down the road, and when her mother showed him kindness, he couldn’t resist.