Page 134 of Hell-Bound

“What are you saying? I’ve never evenbeento Ataria.”

Nephele smoothed silver hair out of her face.

“Oh, songbird, your letter said you might still be missing some pieces—that the side effects of the healing would return your old memories, but you couldn’t keep all of your new ones,” Nephele explained to her how she had woken up almosta year before and how she had been summoned to Ataria to regain what she had lost.

“And it was…an illness? I’ve…never heard of such a thing.”

Nephele shrugged.

“Me neither. We thought it was the trauma of the war, at first.”

She shivered abruptly as a chill made its way down her spine.

The Great Fae War—scenes of her sitting around a camp covered in gore, visions of hard conversations with generals about compromises and collateral damage—the shine of a blade in her hand all flashed quickly in front of her vision. But they were just that—small flashes. Disjointed with little connection between.

“What’s wrong, little songbird?”

“I…don’t know,” she said. “This is all very strange.”

She reached up to touch her forehead—Nephele gasped.

“Renata! What happened to your hand!?”

He grabbed it and cupped it gently.

She saw with a shock that her hand was covered in unfamiliar red scars like splashes of discolored ink.

“Wha—?” she said, with a start, reeling back so quickly that she almost fell to the floor.

“Shh shhh,” Nephele comforted. “Don’t worry, my love. I know they’re…uncomely, but we can fix them. You must have gotten them on your journey.”

He bent his head to kiss her palm.

“I…” she said, unable to grasp the right response.

She felt unexpectedly defensive of her scars but said nothing.

Nephele didn’t like them—and that was that. He had harped on her for months to get rid of the scar on her arm—but she couldn’t. She had gotten it and kept it as a reminder of when she failed to…failed to what?She couldn’t recall at the moment. No matter, surely all of her memories wouldreturn soon enough. No use in harping on the past, as he often reminded her.

When she came back to herself, she saw Nephele, the softest of looks on his face. The look of pure love and contentment. He drew a finger down her jaw and leaned in to kiss her, nuttiness filling her nostrils.

His lips, so familiar and usually so comforting, moved quickly and desperately. She could feel his wet tears on her cheeks and suddenly felt…embarrassed. She knew these lips, had kissed them hundreds of times, but it felt…awkward. Like she didn’t know how to keep the correct pace.

She felt Nephele begin to coil his arms more tightly around her body, his kiss roughened as he started to squeeze her breasts.

Her body jerked back, and she stood up and took two hesitant steps back.

“What’s wrong, songbird? We haven’t…I haven’t…gotten to touch you in so long. I was hoping—”

“Yes. I think I just need some time. I’m feeling a bit—”

“Out of sorts,” he finished, standing and taking her good hand. “I am sure you need a—some time.” He cleared his throat, trying to hide his displeasure. “Erm, perhaps we should go to Jamal’s? I am positive he would love to see you. Perhaps you can play for him tonight?”

Renata’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! That’s exactly what I need.”

Worry dissipating, she spun around to search for her piccolo. She bent to look over the bed and pushed aside some tattered travel leathers. Her room was small, barely big enough for her two pieces of furniture.

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