We appeared in one of the side streets of a large port city. The newly painted walls and the clean pavement do not look so bad, they are not even a little aged, but I can't tell much of it. I've been to Ecrana a few times, and I've always stuck to the main street, stretching from the harbour to the open square and the administration building. There are a number of intricate alleys and diversions that go nowhere, and I've been careful not to turn into one. So, I don't have any idea exactly where we are, but it's certainly not one of the places where people are normally transported to. Who knows why she chose to omit one of the prearranged ones from where there's the best chance we won't materialize in the middle of someone else. The dark alley may look deserted enough to run into someone here, but it still breaks all commonly accepted rules and doesn't bother her one bit. Although, she's probably just used to it, because I've never heard of one of the Heirs just showing up among other mages and going about his business.
"Any idea where we are? Where do we need to go?" I asked quickly. I could use some explanation, instructions, anything. "How do you know he'll be here?"
"Do you believe me?" she asked, her voice dubious. Of course I trust her... more than anyone, but what does that have to do with anything? I nodded. "Give me your hand and close your eyes." I did what she wanted, except doubts, I also heard the urgency in her voice, and I don't want to waste time on unnecessary questions.
A giant part-stone, part-steel anchor pulled ashore appeared before my eyes. The remnant of some ship that now occupies the function of an impressive statue - complete with all the useless gold details - and the perfect landmark, right at the start of the harbour. There are whole crowds of people all over the place, in the same colourful clothes that I'm wearing. An older woman sits across from the ship's anchor, smiling with a strange smile. It's like she's up to something. I saw a grizzled man in a dark Athran coat approach her. He squeezed past all these people as if they weren't even there. The woman bared her teeth in another smile and handed him something. It has to be Mallette.
The loud thud of the bell startled me, I turned instinctively, or so it seemed to me, but I didn't do it - I had to correct myself - it's her memory, she’s showing it to me, so she turned around. In a memory of what's going to happen. Her own memory. She must have seen it for herself. But how? A stone tower with blue doors and window panes, with a bronze bell at the very top. The clock below indicates nine when they began to strike. I thought we were late, but then I realized there’s an hour less in Ecrana, which is why she said we had less than an hour. Right... That's exactly what she saw. In her vision or whatever it is. Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense, even if it doesn't make it any less crazy. But, my life is full of such craziness. Now. Because she's part of it. So visions? Yeah, why not.
“That's pretty insane, just so you know, is that how you know?" I asked, astonished, when I opened my eyes. It can't be someone else's memory or vision, I feels like those thoughts belong to her. I just didn't know that she had that ability. She never mentioned it. How can she do something like that? None of the Immortals can see the future, not anymore. Wait. That's how she knew what was going to happen, in that marketplace. Right after she found the red journal. Apparently, she found more there. Much more.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me down a dark alley to the corner of the building we'd come up behind. "I'm not quite sure why I should know what's going to happen, but if we find Mallette, I really don't care." she finally spoke. We left the alley behind and joined the ranks of the people on the wider, much more crowded street.
I don't mean a normally crowded street, but a crowded, seam-bursting street, you can't step aside here without bumping into someone. The people in front of us and beside us kept stopping, looking at colorful houses and stalls all around, or talking, in the middle of the street, as if it were no big deal. They laughed out loud and completely ignored our presence. They pushed us and we pushed them. Body to body, we moved on painfully slowly. We couldn't afford to waste time admiring all the spice-scented stalls or stopping by every street performer, like the others. Although it is a nice town and the pictures of all the colors look beautiful, we don't have time for that. I was just intrigued that most of the painted pictures were of her family. Tre'Asco, though generally very devout, has its own, rich history and plenty of its own traditions. And the banners above our heads are also exclusively white with a gold H. So what are these people celebrating here today? I don't know about any holidays that involve her family.
I pulled An closer to me. I've trapped her under my arm and pushed our way, maybe she's older, more experienced, smarter and everything, but she's no good at pushing through the crowds. I stopped at a fork in the road, just a few minutes later. "It's the library, isn't it?" I finally asked my question. I know I'm right, but I need to hear it.
She pointed to the right and nodded. The next street in front of us is even more crowded. Precious minutes go by and we almost have to stop here. I looked in all directions. People here wear garish colors, which makes it a little easier to find a man who arrived in black, but I can't see him anywhere. And in a tangle of foreign languages, I haven’t for a moment heard Athran, which in its complexity stood out clearly between chants and widely known slogans. He must be on his way to the port. Somewhere near that anchor. We're getting close to it slowly too, very slowly. The great bell rang from the street ahead. It's awfully loud, more than I expected even though I'd heard it before. Three loud bangs are telling us there’s only fifteen minutes to go. So little time to find a single guy like this in the crowds. Just when we could turn off the larger street, work our way through and get some space for ourselves. Steps carved into the stone rock on which the greater part of the city stood would lead us to the harbour, and then it would be up to us to find him in time."We'll split up." she commanded, letting go of me.
You could see from above that even the area around the pier is full of people, not as crowded as the streets above, but still pretty packed. There must be some sort of holiday or anniversary here, such celebrations generally attract crowds and are made for someone to disappear unnoticed in the process. Especially when that someone is the only one who knows about such celebrations. I can't think of a big holiday that draws so many people, maybe it's something local? But then all those flags and portraits of her family don't fit in.
He must have planned his escape well. He knew ahead of time when everything would break out and that he would have to quickly disappear from the continent. He figured Trevett would give him away. Just like Lytcott guessed when he killed himself. I took the stairs two at a time, adrenaline rushing across my body, forcing me to speed up. I outran passers-by, pushing them mercilessly out of the way. Mallette must be somewhere under the stairs, somewhere in this damn port, and I don't want to let him get away. Not if he has any answers, and Andrea certainly believes he does. Why else would she want to stop him herself?
The old anchor, carefully painted with new protective varnish, served as my perfect landmark. I'm two hundred yards away from the statue and there's still seven minutes to go. Instead of falling back into line with those people, I ran along the side of the road between the grass and the pavement, hoping I wouldn't trip. The parched patch of earth that separated the two is slipping uncomfortably, but it’s faster. Andrea got out of my sight pretty quickly, but I know the same thing she does. Well, maybe not the same thing, but the most important parts. He's about to board one of the ships here, and its name will be given to him by the ghastly old woman, along with the fake papers, the pier number, and other items he'll need to escape. That's pretty easy to deduce just from where we're at. This big port hosts so many ships and crews that it's hard to control every departure. And people here never consistently follow the Heirs' instructions, so that's the perfect way to disappear with a little plan and a little caution. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no plan to stop him myself, and I would say that simply 'you have to come back with me' will not be enough.
I wonder what ship Mallette will board, there are dozens of them in port. Small sailing ships, large cargo ships, several armed frigates, and gold-encrusted cruise ships of diplomats, nobles, and merchants. An inordinate number of masts and sails completely obscure the view of the open sea. The colored flags make it clear that this city promotes international cooperation and connects the entire world to this particular place. And all of those ships come as good to me to escape, but I'll bet he chooses the most spectacular of them all. He's the kind of guy who'd do it, who'd run away in luxury and comfort. The most eye-catching way. I never liked him, and he never seemed like very pleasant company. He's a cocky asshole who hides behind nice words about the equality between mages and people, because he can't do anything on his own.
I reached the anchor, turned to one side, just as I saw it. I looked around and took a sharp breath. She was sitting there, the repulsive woman really is there, and she's smiling just as ugly. I fell in with the people on the street and walked right up to her. The only thing that gave me chills was how crazy this woman looked. Most people, at first glance, don't inspire such disbelief. If only I knew if Mallette had spoken to her or if I'm here first. How am I even going to find out? I don't speak their language.
I squeezed past another group, some people should skimp on perfume. The faces of the jolly people around me are starting to get me angry. Pushing through such a crowd is not without elbows involved. I don't want to spoil their party fun, except they have no idea how much they're interfering with me. And there's not a guy in a black suit anywhere among them. He must be close, I just can't see him anywhere. And I'm pretty sure he wouldn't use any magic to help him blend in. Not here. So, where the fuck is he?
I stopped in front of the woman. She seems small enough, almost petite, up close. Her disheveled, graying orange hair poorly tamed with a colorful scarf, a pretty desperate effort in the seaside breeze, but that's not my problem. She's looking right at me with a crazy grin on her face. I'm sure she knows damn well who I am. That complicates things a little bit.
A resolute instruction in Athran stopped me before I could ask where she had sent Mallette. As I did so, someone pressed something against my back. If I had to guess, I'd guess the barrel of the gun, depending on how uncomfortably hard and small it is. The same someone knocked my hands together behind my back and tied them together with a spell. It tightened painfully around my wrists and held them close. With each attempt to escape, it will surely tighten even further. These pesky nooses just piss me off. Not because you can't get out of them, they're just annoying and totally useless. Which that someone either didn't realize or wanted to know what I’m going to do about it.
There was the first thump of the bell, as there had been before, and I was surprised by how loud the sound was. Again. It easilly shouts down the seagulls, the shouting people, and the chimes of the sailing ships. Even the sound of the sea. It's such a shrill sound that it draws all the attention. I wanted to turn around and see who was holding me, but the hands behind me wouldn't let me. Instead, he started pushing me the other way, through a crowd of people again. Meanwhile, something hard nudges me in the back of the ribs and nibbles on them messily.
I suppose one ill-advised move and that morning hangover is really going to be the last one of my life. I'm surprised at how little the idea of dying here and now terrifies me. I haven't been thinking about anything else lately, except when my perfectly mortal life will end. It takes so little, one shot, and even her power can't do much about it. She said it herself this morning, just a little accident, an illness, and it's over. It's frighteningly simple. I can end it all. Right now. And it doesn't scare me one bit. What the hell is wrong with me? More than what happens to me, I wonder where there is a woman who practically can't die. That's fucking perfect.
Maybe An has better luck with Mallette, but I have this nagging feeling that she doesn't. Nothing's changed, I didn't notice anything in the crowd, well, I didn't see an explosion. So, that’s that. She probably wouldn't wait for someone to sneak up behind her and just attack. Although… I'm sure she would if there weren't so many people around, but what would the Heiress be allowed to do in the encirclement of the innocent, and in Tre'Asco? She can't put these people at risk, just like me, she doesn't have a choice. She can only acquiesce or draw her sword. But probably not even that is allowed in a crowd like that. She goes on and on about how much Damien prides himself on making everything they do seem perfect and consistent with their philosophy, which most often refers to everyone simply listening to them. Which didn't happen here.
About halfway through the crowd, I proved to myself that my supposition was correct. Mallette was standing next to her and, like me, her hands are behind her back, but at least no one is aiming at her. His other hand is on her shoulder, it looks almost friendly. I couldn't help but laugh. We should have come up with a better plan, a much better plan, but no one's going to take away from us that we found him. And he's very cooperative, and he's not trying to escape. That's an encouraging start.
Mallette squeezed her shoulder and spun her around sharply, in the direction he wanted to go. He was squeezing the fabric on her turquoise jacket. Something inside me woke up. It wants that son of a bitch to get his hands off her. Immediately. I want to take them off myself, break them, and in the process improve that smug smile a little bit. I jerked my arms in exasperation to let the magic bring them back. In a much more painful, tighter loop. I gripped my jaw tightly. I can't do anything in a crowd, and we all know it. Me, like An, like Mallette. We can't endanger others, that's probably the first thing I've learned. Well, first thing about magic. It's one of the best-known, generally accepted rules that no one, with any sense, tries to break without a good reason. A mage must not endanger the innocent with his power, under any circumstances, and his position does not matter. That's the way it is. Magic has to stay under control, and I still have to set an example for everyone else. And, of course, protect my reputation and the reputation of the whole family. Pulling out a dagger here and killing him in front of everyone would probably have been better received by the others. Especially at Tre'Asco. It would be a minor scandal, though Mallette and his treacherous ass are no doubt mine alone.
They pushed us both through the crowd, away from the people and closer to the piers. Perhaps something could be done about our situation there. Very much to the advantage, the crowds spread out around us, leaving only numerous groups, which get a little smaller with each passing step. Does Mallette even realize what he's doing? We're only going for a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity in which I can't do anything. Mallette's heading for a boat, and I have to wait for it to turn into one of the endless parades of piers. I'd like to come up with a plan along the way, but I can't think of one workable plan. I can't get us all out of here safely, because we're constantly moving, and I'm not sure what Mallette's counting on, because so far he's pretty damn well prepared. And to just start attacking everyone is not the wisest thing to do. I'm pretty sure two of his men are behind me, but there may be others. And I would only endanger her and myself unnecessarily. Plus, she hasn't tried anything, either, which leads me to want to wait and see how things turn out.
He finally decided to turn onto Pier 47. An old wooden plaque with a blue number has recently been given a new coat of paint. Like the anchor, I'm sure it has something to do with the celebrations. Mallette goes on about the wooden boards with An still in his paws at the head of our little group. He's crushing her wrist, and my patience with him is wearing thin. The rational part of my brain tells me she's going to be fine no matter what. Her healing and immortality give her a substantial advantage. It's just that I don't want to think rationally, I want her with me, far out of range of the son of a bitch. Ideally now.
The high pier is about three metres higher than the water level below. Waves crash restlessly into wooden stakes, washing them down and sending drops of saltwater into the air in new bursts, which, with a little help from the wind, easily reach us. Perhaps too easily. It's a real shame I can't stop them. The clear water below doesn't seem like the worst escape route, but I really don't want to jump into the restless, icy water. A cool spring day is not ideal for swimming. And honestly, I've never had any fun swimming.
We stopped halfway down the pier. One of those big, carved, gold-trimmed ships is moored right here. I'm glad I didn't get it wrong. The sails on the tall masts are ready to sail, and the crew appears to be in position. Judging by the little I know about boats. The 'Miss Mistress' sign amused me sincerely. This has to be the stupidest choice, and he chose it anyway. Probably consciously. I bit my lip hard so I wouldn't start laughing. I noticed An did the same thing, she thinks it’s funny, too.
Mallette finally let her go. Her hands remained behind her, I assume that, like me, she had long since removed the handcuffs he had used. It's not a very clever spell, the bigger problem would be to get rid of the real ties. Because metal is still metal after all, and it bends badly enough by will alone. Not that it can't be done. For the magical ones, one can only imagine the loop of magic around the wrist loosening, slowly untying, and it simply obeys. I don't know if it's that simple to all mages, but it seems trivial to me. It's all about the will, so, not a big thing for me or An.
There was a tinkling of a bell from the ship, he'd better hurry. "It seems your ship is about to sail." I remarked wryly. Andrea looked at me, but she didn't do anything. Like me, she's waiting for the right opportunity. She must be. "You shouldn't let it sail, there may not be any more like it." I suppose a name this stupid is a unique original.
"You needn't worry, Your Majesty. I'll board right now, I just want to make sure you don't try to stop me." he sounds like he's bored, but even when he frowns, his hands shake. He reached into his jacket and pulled a small bottle from a side pocket. "Once you’ll wake up, I'll be gone . . . and then we can forget about everything. No one will find me again." he said, convinced by his own lies. He must have known we'd never stop looking for him. I won't stop looking for him. He makes it unnecessarily personal.
"I'd say you're trying to get away from the wrong people." she gave him a defiant smile, and I judged it a rather frightening smile. Mallette, too, apparently, his eyes trying to crawl out of their sockets in terror. The violet liquid spills lazily from side to side in the elongated vial it holds. I'm not sure if I'm more concerned about the skull on the cork or the tentacles on the surface of the fluid. I'm not insisting that I have to see for myself what that substance inside is. Mallette opens the bottle, and apparently Andrea doesn't want to try what's inside either. Her hand went up incredibly quickly. She knocked the bottle out of his hand in one motion.
I didn't wait for it to hit the wooden boards of the pier. I clasped my hands together and elbowed one of the two standing behind me first. I felt my elbow sink into the soft tissue on his stomach. The man behind me pushed his way under the strain and let go of the gun, so he really had it. I kicked it aside, it felt a lot quicker than jumping for it. I'm pretty sure if I picked it up and shot it, I'd hit him, but I don't have the time. There's two of them against me, and the other one's already set his sights on me. I caught sight of An, who hesitated to pursue Mallette or help me. "Go after him!" I called and jumped to one side.
He lashed out at me with a small dagger. It dawned on me how completely defenseless I am, somehow I didn't feel it necessary to arm myself, unlike her. She’s always armed. And it's only now that I realize what a bad idea it was. So I'm going to have to borrow my opponent's weapon. Fuck. Or I can attack with magic ... no, I need his weapon. Definitely. I tried to knock it out of his hands. He won't let go of that sharp thingy. He clutches the handle, determined not to let go. I stomped on his foot and punched him, and he still wouldn't let go. All I got was my arm hurting and I lost my speed.
I let him go before he could come closer to me and try anything, skipping back late, almost falling over because of him. And by the time I straightened out, he was coming after me again. I have no choice but to throw him away with the help of magic. I'm not going to get hurt, it's not really worth it. He flew a few feet, head-butted a piece of wood, and sank to the ground. My guess is he won't just get up, if at all. I gasped, the first one still poses a threat. I turned around.
He's got a face that only his parents could ever love, and in his case, I doubt even that. He looks like a rat, literally. And without that weapon of his, he's at a clear disadvantage, swinging the blade around like a maniac, a dangerous crazy maniac. He came after me at the first opportunity. I was able to get out of the way, kinda, the narrow pier doesn't allow me to get completely out of his reach. I'm sure the tip of his blade scratched me, ran through the skin and maybe the muscle underneath, but I can’t really feel anything. He couldn't get that deep. I grabbed his hand and, at the first attempt, knocked the dagger out. He's not the least bit used to hand-to-hand combat. I didn't wait for the next surprise and stabbed him without draping the dagger. I know I hit the heart even with my left. My father and others are pretty basic about me being able to fight and defend myself in any situation, with both hands.
That went well… the man fell to the ground. I turned around, there's no boat, no An or Mallette. There's nothing but a view of the relatively calm sea, a flock of chatty birds and a wooden slab of the pier leading up to the spectacle. Did she let him get in or join him? She wouldn't make the whole ship disappear, would she? I looked around, saw the water, the harbor behind me, and more water, with dozens of other ships. I turned around again, people have scattered somewhere, and it's only a matter of time before a patrol gets through the crowds. I didn't see Andrea anywhere, though. She disappeared with Mallett and the big ship. But where to?
The answer was a flash of violet light beneath me. The churning water below me changed color, the purple turned bright blue, and then everything died down. The roar of the birds in the harbor returned, the slightly less still water settling slowly, too. An emerged at last, took a sharp breath, and started for shore. Across the cold water and through some foliage. That brief glimpse of her in the water is priceless.
"Need help?" I asked, laughing. I don't care what happened. She'll be very upset when she gets out of the water, but I can't help it, nothing has amused me that well in so long. I don't know how she ended up there, but I'll always be sorry I didn't see it. I'd give anything to see her fall into that water.
In a fit of laughter, I took a few steps to where we had been standing and picked up the bottle from the ground. The purple liquid is gone, I bet she'll be interested anyway. I put a perfectly ordinary bottle in my pocket and gathered myself to my feet. It was only then, I noticed, that my hand was covered in blood. It's more blood than I'd expect from a small scratch, covering my entire palm without any struggle. I quickly touched the wound again. My fingers turned an even darker shade of red. I'm surprised it doesn't hurt at all, not even a little bit. But it’s just blood, I won’t let a little blood scare me, and I wiped it on my pants and shrugged. If it was serious, I could definitely feel it. It would have to hurt a lot more. And I don’t have the time for it right now.
Andrea swam to a seemingly slippery wall covered with algae. She'll never come up after those. She made me laugh again when she frowned and cursed at the wall. There are stairs around here somewhere, just in case. "I'm fine."she called back to me, pretty angry. I was beginning to catch my breath from the way I laughed. She has to swim under another pier.
I set out to meet her, my path nice and dry, while hers runs through the nasty water and clumps of some grass or algae or whatever, I have no idea what grows in the ports. On the way to her, I was able to check on the two who were holding me earlier. The first one is still alive, only unconscious. My people will have to take him away and do something about the other's bodies, the Tre'Ascan haven't shown up yet. Maybe they're not interested in this incident. But why? Could the celebrations, of who knows what, have kept them completely occupied? I don't think that's likely. Under The Heirs, the rules here are the same as the ones on Lemford, well, pretty much the same. I drew a circle, wrote the numbers, and started walking toward her.
I paused all the way to the top of the stairs, partially submerged in transparent water, partially covered with slick algae. I was biting my lip harder and harder so I wouldn't laugh. She’s not making it any easier. She swam under another pier. Not exactly gracefully. She dodged the new watercover and stood on the steps. She took off her sodden coat immediately. I started laughing again when I got a good look at her. The famous Heiress and our savior stomps it to me, springs of water flow from her, patches of grass tangled in her hair rippling with her every step. The white shirt clings to her, and her expression… it's just priceless.
"What's so funny?" she asked, annoyingly, as she wrung her shirt. "Mallette's gone." she added angrily.
"Whatever." I straightened up, took off my own coat and covered her. It's not cold here with spring coming, the days are getting hotter, but the cold wind has to pass through wet clothes like nothing. And I feel genuinely sorry for her, she's always icy, and I wouldn't want to fall into that water myself any more. It just doesn't make it any less fun.
She immediately noticed the torn T-shirt when she touched the wound, I couldn't feel it at all. I mean, I didn't feel the pain I expected, nothing can hide her icy fingers. It's pretty weird. The tips of those long fingers immediately turned red. "You're bleeding, Steven." she whispered, terrified. Staring at the droplets, which slowly trickle down. She can't look away from them, it kind of freaks me out. But she always freaks out when I hit something or hurt myself a little bit. She must think ordinary people are terribly fragile. But if we were, there would only be Immortals left in the world.
"I know, it's just a scratch." I wiped my blood from her hand and pulled her toward me. Part of me wanted to calm her down, part of me needed her to shut up and not pay attention to the fact that I’m bleeding for a while. That would only create more problems.
The heavy footwork of three men has finally caught up with us, they're taking their time today. It's like I've had all day just for them. Tall Captain Almeráuis and his favorite sidekicks await their orders. I'm not sure why he always chose the Quint brothers, but I expected it. I know it's always going to be those two big-shouldered guys who don't look anything like brothers, which is something that certainly doesn't apply to my family. I quickly informed them of what had happened, in Athran, of course. I'm pretty sure that both those men on the pier are my subjects, judging by the way he spoke to me. With that woman with the nasty smile, I can't be sure. Anyway, I want her too, she recognized me, and I want to know how that's possible. The resolute voice of the commander echoed my orders, and the heavy footsteps marched away again.
I let An go again and laughed again when I looked at her. She frowned blankly. It's time to come back. The harbour disappeared, the smell of fish didn’t not. We were standing in her bathroom. She wouldn't forgive me if I let her walk around in Ecrana with that seagrass in her hair. Well, she might, but Damien certainly wouldn't. And I don't want her to be cold. I need to get her in the hot shower. I want to see again how the trickles of water run down her perfect, this time naked body.
Andrea looked in the mirror, shook her head in frustration, and ran her hand through her hair. I noticed a red spot on her wet shirt. The blood spilled on to the white cloth pretty quickly, and it's not exactly a small stain. She turned and took the T-shirt off me in one motion. She put the crumpled cloth to the wound and pressed my hand against it. "Be so kind and apply some pressure. You need some blood inside your body, as well." she commanded sternly. "I need to know how it happened."
I pressed dutifully, though it seems pointless. It's not a big injury. It can’t be. Andrea rolled up her wet sleeves and rinsed her hands in the basin, dipping the towel quickly. I caught a glimpse of her concerned expression in the mirror before she turned back to me. With the same urgency as before, she pushed my hand away. A long red line cutting through my left side just below the ribs, bleeding badly enough. Thin red streams run down and don't seem to want to slow down. Maybe it really isn't as small a scratch as I thought. "It doesn't hurt a bit." I said, surprised.
"I know that, I shouldn't have given you the pills." she gently placed a wet towel at the spot. "You don't feel any pain because of it, which wouldn't normally matter, but you probably don't realize how dangerous it can be."
"I'm fine." I said. As much as I look at the injury, it doesn't seem that bad. Maybe a few stitches?
"Yes, Steven, I know. That's precisely the problem. I should have realized it wasn't a good idea." she threw the towel aside and took a closer look at the red line.
"I think you’re exaggerating unnecessarily,"
"I think you're not in any condition to make that decision." she cut me off. "What happened? It was an ordinary dagger."
"How am I supposed to know? I didn't ask him where he got it." she frowned again. I don't like her cold tone one bit. "but when I took it from him, it seemed ordinary enough."
"Why would you ..." she looked up from the wound she'd almost stuck her finger in. "You're not suggesting you didn't arm yourself, I hope." I shrugged instead of answering. I don't want to defend myself. I managed to cope anyway. "I don't . . . you know what . . . it's best if you keep your mouth shut.” she covered the wound with her palm, all I could feel were her icy hands and the pressure on the wound. Until the cold was replaced by pleasant warmth. It's more than pleasant, it's so comforting, and it's nothing like anything I've ever felt before. I've never experienced anything like it. It's so nice and soothing. "I hope you don't mind the scars."
"If you don't mind..." I replied quietly, wanting to pull my hand away and see what was lurking beneath. I held it to my stomach, it's a strange change, to feel her hand, so warm. I like it, I like the way she touches me and how close she is to me. Some scar isn't bothering me in the slightest. "Thanks." I whispered.
"It’s nothing." she smiled. Her dark eyes looked at me with concern, I never meant to frighten her. She's still worrying unnecessarily about my safety. I survived until now without her help. And I'm not planning on wrapping it up now that he's in my life. Even though everything is against me, I'll do whatever it takes to stay here with her. As long as I can.
I let go of her hand just so I could attend to the buttons on her shirt. By the time I got to the second one and lost patience with it, I just ripped the shirt. I took off her pants and grabbed her buttocks. She held on tight to me before I let go of the water and pressed her back against the cold packs. The hot water running down her flawless, pale skin is exactly what I longed to see. I helped her get rid of leftover grass in her hair. Then I moved over to her side, kissing her whole body bit by bit, first tenderly and then more aggressively. "I've missed you," I whispered in her ear. “so fucking much.” I missed her laugh, biting comments, long hair and perfect lips, amazing body. I never thought I couldn’t last only three days without someone, but without her that time seemed lost. It trudged along and it's completely useless.
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