Page 85 of In Death's Hands
“What did Gilfred say?” Atys asks me, clearly avoiding Turan’s increasingly suspicious gaze.
“He lied!”
“Liv,” Nathan says with his stupidly soothing voice. “What did he say exactly?”
“Something about helping them,” I scoff. “Like I’ll believethat.”
Turan looks at me deeply. “Liv, you’ve been through a lot recently, and I know you don’t particularly like this placeorCel—and I don’t fault you for that,” she adds quickly with her palms up when I throw her an incredulous look, “but Cel has been nothing but a blessing to us, and if Gilfred said they’re helping that person, then I’m sure that’s what it is, no matter how bad it looked.”
I stop pacing and face her fully. My gaze hardens at the gaslighting. “I know what I saw. I am not crazy or struck stupid byhaving been through a lot,” I seethe. When I turn to Nathan,I’m relieved to see a thoughtful expression on his face. Maybe he believes me?
Hope has a bitter taste when it fades away. “Look, even if what you believe is true, there is nothing we can do about it right now. We can’t just go meddling in Cel’s affairs.”
Fire burns up my throat as I ready myself, but Nathan cuts me off before the attack. “We have everything we need for you to commune with the Order. Let’s get you ready as quickly as possible, and then we’ll check it out. Diplomatically.”
I choke when he of all people advocates for diplomacy, but I see how earnest he is. He does trust me but needs time to sort this out. Fine, I can give him that. At least a little bit of time, but there is no way I’m leaving this place without the person who’s been left in a corner to shiver and hurt all alone.
I deflate slightly, worry a heavy cloud in my mind. I feel like I’m running against an invisible, deadly clock.
“This issonot what I had in mind,” I mutter, trying to contain the shivers.
It didn’t take long for them to prepare everything, and the urgency I felt hasn’t gone away. It even seemed to transfer to both Atys and Nathan as they rushed through the preparations. Thalnus never came back from his own errands, but neither man looks concerned, so I assume he had better things to do. Turan ran out for more salt at the last minute, despite Nathan’s assurances that we had enough. She came back flushed and out of breath, which is entirely out of character for her. I’m concerned about her; she seems uncomfortable and truly worried about what we’re doing. I tried to reassure her, but tobe honest, I’m not even sure what’s about to happen, so I didn’t blame her when my words didn’t relax her.
Ice hitting my naked skin jerks me from my thoughts, and I glare at Nathan, who has the decency to wince.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. You could be in bed and warm by now.”
I scoff, pushing away the images those words from his mouth create in my mind. The spark in his eyes tell me he’s all too aware of that fact, and I thank whoever is listening that my skin is already so red from the icy water that a blush goes unnoticed.
Turns out the salt wasn’t for the witchy circle I had in mind but for a bath. A very cold one. I stopped looking at what they were adding to it after they dumped a decent amount of dirt in as well. Mostly, I’m focused on my toes, ignoring how awkward it is in the cramped bathroom, wearing nothing but my knickers and a shirt that clings uncomfortably to my skin. When I first came into the room, I gasped at the beauty of it. The back wall is, like the main living space, entirely made of glass overlooking the forest, with a claw-foot tub placed artfully in front of it. It’s eerie to feel like I’m bathing outside. Eerier to be bathing with three fully clothed people in the room. I feel entirely too exposed.
“Liv,” Nathan says quietly, but I’m very happy looking at the flaky pink nail polish on my big toe. I’m going through all the colours of polish I have at home, wishing I could get access to them, or even some remover.
I hear a sigh, and I wiggle my toes, in part to try to get some feeling back in them but also because I like making the water move. It makes the ice cubes clink together with a pleasant noise that drowns out some of my whirling thoughts.
“Get out.”
I jump slightly at Nathan’s stern tone and dare a look at him, but he’s not talking to me.
Atys’ eyebrows scrunch together as he opens his mouth to protest, I’m sure, but Turan grabs his forearm and shakes her head slightly, dragging him away and softly closing the door behind them.
I look at Death’s assistant, wondering what’s going on, but quickly go back to my toes. The intensity of his gaze nearly burns me despite my freezing body.
I brace myself for yet another argument about my safety over doing this, but all I hear is some shuffling. Puzzled, I check what he’s doing only to choke on my own breath. He’s removing his clothes!
“What are you doing?” I croak, too stunned to avert my eyes.
“You’re uncomfortable.”
“Yes.” No point in denying the obvious. “And?” I let my eyes travel down the long expanse of toned muscles as he peels his shirt off. The natural dim light coming from outside is clearly working for him as it reveals the smooth skin and allows shadows to dance in the dips and valleys of his stomach. I am powerless to stop my eyes from dragging all the way down to the mouth-watering V of muscles going to hide behind his trousers. Powerless to stop all the memories flooding me of the feel of his skin against mine, the taste of his mouth. My hands tighten on my thighs, the desire to reach for him and explore along the shadows too strong.
His shirt lands on the floor, and his fingers undo the button of his jeans.
I have troublebreathing.
The noise of the zipper coming undone is indecent, making my whole body warmer despite the ice pelting my skin. An undignified squeak escapes my throat, and I want to die of shame.
“There isn’t much I can do to help where you’re going,” Nathan explains, his voice strained. “But right here, you don’t have to be the only one exposing yourself.”
