Those bitches are fucking brutal about that stuff.
“Thanks.”
“No, we should be the ones thanking you,” he instantly replies. “Sorry we followed you, I really didn’t imagine something like this would happen,” he starts rambling and I cut him off.
“No use crying over spilled wine. What’s done is done.”
Lucien comes into view as I head towards the bathroom. “Don’t you mean over spilled milk?”
I give him a confused look. “Why the hell would you cry over milk? It’s milk. Wine on the other hand is a completely valid reason.”
Ignoring them all, I lock myself in the bathroom, relieve myself, and struggle through a shower. Once all the remaining gore is gone and I’m feeling more clear-headed, I finally hazard a look.
Both hands, now scabbed over, have identical symbols. A series of twisting lines without a beginning or an end, similar to a Celtic knot. I trace the far more painful one over my heart, still raw and tender.
Thank fuck there were only three of them. I don’t think I could have survived another.
My skin is still far too pale from all of the blood loss, but I’m standing. Alive. And I don’t have their blood on my hands, so I’m just going to chalk this one up as a wash, because it’s a far cry from a win.
Wrapping myself in a towel, I head out to my, well, not bedroom, but the one room that isn’t the bathroom, and tug some clothes from a basket. I struggle through donning my bra and a shirt before turning around to a blushing face. Dorian is trying to politely inspect the ceiling while Atlas tilts his head to check out my ass shamelessly. Lucien scowls as he comes over to tug the hem of my shirt down to cover my panties, tossing a reproachful look at Atlas. I have to fight a laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing is, but the pain lancing through my chest keeps my expression relatively sober.
“Did you bring a chastity belt with you too?” I tease, unable to stop myself.
Dorian snickers right alongside Atlas as he glares at them both. “In case you children forgot, there are people out there ready to carve into strangers and slit our throats. So maybe stop thinking with your dicks for five seconds and focus on the bigger problem.”
“Sorry, sir,” I mock salute. “I promise to quit thinking with my dick.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he goes to sit in the chair by the table while I tug on some shorts and try to curb my sarcasm. “If all it takes is some ass to get you flustered, you’re in for a rude awakening. Fae are incredibly open, voyeuristic, and typically shameless.”
“Is that why your walk of shame was such a big deal?” Lucien asks and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Exactly.” I wince and rub at my stinging chest. “Thank you so much for reminding me.”
Atlas gestures to the refrigerator. “You don’t have any food,” he accuses. “Not even any ice.”
I roll my eyes. “Ice isn’t a necessity, nor is it food.”
He gives me a weird look, confusion obvious in his dark green gaze. “It’s free. You have a sink right here,” he points out, gesturing emphatically.
I fill up the thin metal tray and pop it in the otherwise empty freezer. “There, now you can quit your bitching. You’ll have ice in an hour or two, ‘ya big baby. After what happened yesterday, I think there are a few things that rank a little higher than what is or is not in my kitchen.”
Dorian frowns. “It’s actually been two days; you were passed out for a while. And we didn’t want to leave you to go in search of food until we understood what was going on better.” As if on cue, his stomach rumbles. He faces me with bright blue eyes, pleading like a hungry puppy.
I scowl, rummaging in a cabinet and toss each of them a piece of gum. “You’ve been here two days and you’re already trying to eat me out of house and home.”
“Do fae not need to eat?” Lucien asks and I can see what it costs him to voice the question, like by doing so he’s accepting fae exist and everything he’s ever known might be under scrutiny.
I try to soften my tone. While my life was just thrown for a damn loop, so was theirs, but on a much more intense level. It will be a hard adjustment for all of us, but if my gut is correct, hardest on Lucien.
“We do, I just need to go shopping. Bright side, I slept until payday, so we can go pick up my check and grab some groceries.”
He rubs his temples, elbows braced on his knees and head bowed. “I can’t, I just,” he starts and stops several times. “Spell things out for me here, Cambria. Please.”
Sighing, I sit on my bed and Dorian joins me while Atlas chooses to lean against the wall. It’s not like I exactly have the place furnished for company.
“If a fae reveals themselves to a human or a human to our world, there are three options.” I tick them off on my fingers. “Mind wipe so they forget, kill them, or the accused can accept responsibility.”
“And Illiah was on vacation, so no forgetting?” Atlas adds and I nod.
Lucien gestures for me to continue, not looking up.
“The symbols aren’t just a mark of shame for the fae so that everyone can see how they fucked up, but it tethers us together. So if you try to leave without me, your symbol will activate and give me a stab of pain as a warning. If you actually tell any other human, well,” I trail off, not sure if he can handle anymore, but at his glare quickly realize he’s the sort of man that would prefer a clear set of rules.
“Then we get dragged in front of the queen and she makes a huge public display of torturing us to death to emphasize the importance of secrecy. It’s pretty fuckin’ brutal.”
I flop back on my bed and throw an arm over my eyes. I’ve only witnessed two of those ceremonies before and they sure as shit make a lasting impression. I know I checked the clearing before crossing, but I was in such a stupid hurry that I was careless. Now look where that got me.
“So why save us instead of letting us die?” Atlas asks again. “Why put yourself on the line for people that you not only don’t know, but just robbed? I still want my cash back, by the way.”
I don’t remove my arm right away, hiding from reality for just a few moments more. “I told you, I’m not a heartless bitch. And sorry, but that money’s gone; rent.” I then tell them about my mad dash to get enough money to keep a roof over my head and back here in time.
I sit up when Lucien asks in a voice that’s deadly calm. “So we can’t go back? We’re trapped here and regarded as nothing more than your pets?”
His tone is dangerous, one I recognize from home that instantly brings back a flood of painful memories. I swallow and push through them, reminding myself of what everyone is dealing with here and that he’s only human. Dorian seems to pick up on my unease and ends up stealing one of my hands, softly tracing the healing mark I’m not sure he even realizes is his. It actually works though to settle me down and breathe easier.
Oh boy, I adopted an emotional support human. That’ll sound real impressive at the next family dinner.
“Of course you can go back, how else do you think I’m going to pick up my check?” Lucien’s eyes snap up to mine optimistically so I tread carefully with my next words. “But we need to stay together. You can’t all go home and me stay here, just like I can’t be over there for work and leave you in my apartment.”