Page 38 of From the Noblest Motives
"Oooh, food." Shudder pounced on the toast and went on with his mouth full. "I feel so much more me. Are you sure we need another healing?"
"Don't rush. No one will take it away," Gwyneth admonished with a laugh. "Let's get your leg closer to completely healed. The bone's doing well, but the torn muscle needs some work. And your ribs. You just keep eating."
"Yes, ma'am." Shudder patted the bed beside him, beckoning to Damien. "Did you eat? You want some of mine?"
"I ate." Damien took the offered spot, pointing to the tray. "And I'm not taking yours. I'm sorry it's not pancakes."
The smile Shudder gave him was surprisingly shy and achingly sweet. "You remembered. Oh, my heart."
Not up to Shudder's outrageous standard of flirting, but again, Damien was relieved it sounded much more like him. Gwyneth finished her healing session before Shudder completed his breakfast demolition, and Blaze returned from his shower, glowing from the hot water and still carrying his weapons. Once they'd all had a turn in the shower—Shudder insisting he could do it alone, though he'd lost color by the time he was done—they found clothes for Shudder in the closet.The Closet of Many Things, Shudder named it. The blue T-shirt was too big and the jeans a bit too short, but these were better than the fever-and-abandoned-cabin clothes he'd worn previously.
"Hat… hat…" Shudder dug fretfully through the items on the closet shelf.
Blaze put a hand on his back. "You look fine, Shuds. You don't need one."
"I'm hideous." That one word contained so much anger and anguish, Blaze actually took a step back.
Damien understood, though. Shudder could've chosen to shave his head at any point and been happy with the decision. But this had been done without his consent, forcibly, and attaching the plate had been a violent act, one that attacked Shudder's self and safety.
Oh, yes. He understood.
With an apologetic sound, he stepped around Shudder and pulled out the knit hat he'd spotted while Shudder was rooting around blindly. It was a shade of gold not too far from Shudder's hair—when he had hair—with a blue stripe around the bottom.
Shudder sniffed and wiped at his eyes before he took the hat and jammed it on his head with a whispered, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Damien shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to hug Shudder tight, giving him the space to compose himself. "My father wants to meet with us."
9
NECESSARY CLARITY
Alot of the big, fancy rooms on the first floor hadn't been touched, either to clean them or to restore them. The one that had been the front parlor—Blaze's best guess—stood completely bare, with bits of the carved wooden molding rotting away or fallen to the floor. In the center of what had probably been a ballroom, a truck-sized chandelier lay on its side on the floor, pulverized pieces of crystal glittering on the old carpet like snow.
Amid all the decaying opulence, it was easy to find the room Cyril had designated as his study. Library, it would've been called when the house was occupied, but all the floor-to-ceiling shelves stared blankly now, completely empty except for the dust. Calling it a library now would've been a sad joke.
Damien had mentioned expecting a huge, intimidating desk, Cyril behind it in a leather swivel chair three times too big for him, like the egomaniac Blaze suspected he might be, but no. This was a working space with a repurposed rectangular kitchen table and normal-sized chairs. Cyril acknowledged their entrance with a distracted wave as he divided his attention between four holoscreens, tapping away with swift precision at the interface.
He shut three of the screens down as they approached and offered a hint of a smile. A Damien smile. It was… disconcerting to see it on someone who looked so much like Damien. "Thank you for joining me. Please."
Cyril indicated the several chairs on the other side of the table and waited for them to sit. There were a couple of things Blaze needed to know before he heard anything out of this man's mouth, though.
"Now look, Mr. Hazelwood—"
"Cyril. Please."
"Whatever." Blaze winced when Shudder kicked him. "Ow. Hold on. Look, Cyril, we're grateful for you helping Shudder. Thank you for that part. But what the hell is this place full of pregnant women?"
"Blaze, gods." Shudder hid his face in his hands. "This man just saved my life."
He put a hand on Shudder's knee and gave a little squeeze.I've got this. Don't worry. But the angry reaction he'd anticipated or even an attempt to laugh off the question didn't materialize. Cyril's expression never changed. For that matter, neither had Damien's, as he watched the conversation in statue mode.
"Three pregnant women," Cyril began softly. "Not a house full. They're here for the same reason you are—they needed somewhere safe."
Now Damien shifted in his chair. "Because of the children they carry."
"Yes, and you may ask them details if you wish. But I would prefer you leave them their privacy." Cyril gestured to the screen. "What I'd hoped to discuss is Shudder's situation."
Shudder sat up straighter. "Sir?"
