Within a minute, he had a bowl of soup ready with a bottle of ice-cold water. I had to blink, look around, and then stare at the suitcase questioningly.
"What magical sources are hidden within that thing to allow for hot soup but cold water?"
"This suitcase doesn't only preserve important valuables. It can preserve food, water, or any item at the temperature it was when placed in. Meaning, if I fixed a large bowl of soup and placed in here, it would preserve it for as long as need be. Same goes with water, juice, anything really."
I was going to respond but he quickly added, "Minus a human or shifter. Can't preserve those and they would get travel sick from the swinging movement of their entire body."
"Intriguing," I mumbled. "Does that mean my parents may have put food in there?"
"They should have easily been able to," he responded before asking, "Wait. Your parents had one of these?"
"Three," I corrected. "One of them was mine...well, my mom took it from me since my magic hasn't fully awakened yet."
"Hmph." He looked annoyed as he offered me the bowl of soup. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of pills. Popping two out, he offered them to me.
"It's not much, but these pain meds are good for supernaturals. Since you’re a kid, I don't think I can give it to you as frequently, but it will at least last until we reach our destination and Klaus can work his magic."
"Thank you." I lowered the bowl to my lap and received the two white pills and the bottle of ice water. Taking the pills and drinking at least half the bottle of chilled water, I sighed in relief at quenching my thirst. "Cold water is a luxury."
"It is," he replied as he closed the suitcase, snapped his fingers, and poof. The suitcase was back to its tiny size in the palm of his hand.
He moved to sit down in front of me, crossing his legs and leaning his arms back to rest his hands on the ground. He was still shirtless, with just navy-blue pants.
"You're not eating?"
"Not hungry," he admitted.
"Why are you half-naked?"
He didn't answer immediately as he looked down at himself as though he'd forgotten what he was wearing.
"It's easier."
"Why?"
"Are you in that questioning phase of your childhood?"
"I don't get to ask questions with my parents," I mumbled and took a sip of my soup. My lips curled at the unique tomato basil taste, and I forgot we were in a conversation until the bowl was empty and Zackery was staring at me in disbelief.
"I shouldn't be shocked and yet I am," he admitted. "When we arrive at our destination, I'll give you more, alright?"
"Okay," I replied and licked the bowl. "Very nice soup."
"It's a recipe from one of our private maids. She was the specific maid for our family and cooked the best food."
"She showed you how to make it?"
"Yup. That and other things."
"Do you miss her?"
"A little," he admitted.
"When you reach whatever goal you have, are you going to go visit or find her?"
"I wish I could." He chuckled. "She never got a grave so I can't visit her."
"Grave..." The single word was filled with disappointment as his words finally settled into my mind. "Why did she die?"
Not how did she die, but why because those who died in the hands of royalty never perished by their natural deaths.
"Isn't that something a kid shouldn't want to know?"
"When I was six, I had a best friend who was the son of one of our maids," I began. "He was awesome. Very friendly, caring, wanted good for everyone. He made being a Nephilim easier, even at times of difficulty. His mother made an error of judgment about the spices of our food, and it was too spicy for any of us to eat. My mother chained her in the dungeon and she was beaten all night long. She’d died by morning. The boy then became an orphan and when he called my mom a killer, he was taken captive and hung the next day."
Zackery stared at me, his expression reminding me of a blank sheet of paper. I lowered the bowl to sit next to me as I reached for the bottled water.
"She let his body remain there for days until the stench was unbearable. It was our punishment. To silence any children who thought they could insult royalty. I lost any other friends by seven. No one wanted to risk being around me. I ended up being friends with the elders of our village. I miss them, but they must have died when the hunters rushed through our lands to hunt us. Our wings are valuable. Extremely powerful...and well, that's why I don't have mine, right?"
"We'll figure out a way to get them back."
"Mother said there's no way of getting them back."
"The woman who killed over spices, watched you suffering and proclaimed she'd start fresh with a new kid, and was surely hiding the fact their suitcase had months if not years of a supply of food can't say shit as to whether one can get their wings back or not," he declared in spite.
He clearly hated my parents, especially my mother.
"Why do you hate them like you've known them for a long time?" I inquired.
He took a long moment to reply as if he was trying to determine how much to say.
"I'm a wolf shifter," he revealed. "I'm going to assume you know what those are."
"Puppy!"
Another blank expression came may way, before I added, "Mutated puppy?"
"Seriously? I thought you said your mom taught you all about shifters."
"She did," I replied. "Except for wolves. She said they're useless and at the bottom of the supernatural shifter train and can be easily killed by hunters so there was no need for me to learn about them," I explained.
"Now I'll just kill her," he muttered under his breath.
"Wolf shifters are canines of extreme strength and speed, and can be born or blessed with special qualities by the sacred Moon," I began which surprised him. "They can shift from human form to wolf form, many of them being triple the size of the normal wolves that roams the forests and mountains. They have extremely fast healing properties but are weak to silver. They can be killed by beheading. Any other wound can only kill a wolf shifter if they bleed out to death, which is rare unless their healing abilities are blocked. They run in packs and family is a very big deal to them. In terms of leadership, there's always an Alpha and potentially a Beta. Some packs alternate leadership after a few years by fighting up the rank system until they reach their Alpha."
"Definitely memorized the book," he grumbled.
"Am I wrong?"
"No," he answered. "What's an Omega wolf?"
"I...don't know," I replied. "I only studied the basic definition, so I'd at least know about it. I didn't want to study too much of it or my mom would catch me."
"And punish you for it?"
"Yes." I nodded with emphasis.
His dissatisfaction was obvious, but he carried on with, "Omega wolves are individuals who decide to part ways with their pack."
"Doesn't that hurt?" I inquired.