Page 10 of Safe in Shadow
Is scaring harm?
Another thought suddenly shook his lustful, tangled thoughts. He could hear Grace humming through the curtain. As he moved, light pooled and shone through it, illuminating her silhouette. A mouth-watering sight—and he wasn’t the only one who would enjoy it.
What if The Stranger comes back? She must be made to leave. If he finds her...
Nyx jerked back the edge of the curtain and loomed, bristling with height and muscles that were far from his usual form.
“Oh, oh, oh, ye-eeah.” Grace had her eyes closed, and her foam-covered hands were embedded in her thick, tangled locks. She sang loudly as she rocked her slender body to the rhythm of her song.
Nyx swallowed as his eyes followed trails of creamy bubbles down the curve of her back and over her legs. Bubbles made a threadbare skirt around her hips and over her bottom.
How is she such a golden tan all over? Is that her natural color?
Pretty. So warm. So lively.
Grace continued to sing, belting out something melodic but unfamiliar to him. Her eyes remained shut.
“This one’s for you, Nana! I wanna be loved by you, just you, and nobody else but you! I wanna be loved by you...” Grace tiltedher head back and bellowed, starting to scrub the shampoo from her hair.
Nyx shrank down. Backed away.
Mesmerized, he watched water cascade over her breasts and down her thighs, eyes slowly sliding to the nest of curly brown-blonde curls between them, allowing himself a little peek and then a little longer, savoring this moment.
I don’t want her to leave yet.
The Stranger won’t stop here now, not when it’s obviously lived in and repaired. He won’t be that stupid.
Even if he did, surely the vampire and the warlock’s charms would protect her.
But I still have control in this place, don’t I? Is she protected from me?
Does she need to be?
No. No. I’m not evil, although I’m not good, either.
A fleeting thought whispered, I could protect her if I had to.
GRACE HAD PICKED THElarge bedroom on the second floor because it was somehow pristine. Oddly untouched. As she carefully dried herself on the edge of the bed (mentally budgeting for a cheap but fancy-looking rug to put on the original hardwood floor), she made up her own story about this room.
This was probably the home of the last resident who lived here. Like some of the people in Nana’s building. They slowly lose the use of their bodies and minds, and their world shrinks to a single room. Or some can only afford a single room in a nursing home.
Grace’s lips quivered as she recalled her parents’ conversations after Nana broke her hip. They were ready to pack up her stuff, sell off her remaining furniture, and “put” her in a nursing home like she was an object that deserved to be downsized.
Rage and tears welled up in her, and she pushed them down with another burst of song, glad she had no audience.
Except the house.
Hilltop itself seemed to listen.
Hilltop was lonely. It probably missed that final resident who had taken such good care of this one spot in the house. Maybe he was a squatter. A forgotten soldier. She could picture him (it was definitely a man in her mind for some reason) hiding in this place, glad for its shelter.
Hilltop House was a protector, just as she’d always imagined, a safe haven. Grace gave herself a little mental slap on the head for being so hesitant to go inside when she’d arrived back at sunset. There wasnothingscary about this place.
Don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you. I’m here for the duration. I’m no quitter. Hey, ifyousurvived all alone with no one to support you fordecades, I can hack it for a fewmonths.
Her voice had the same tone she used when finding a particularly cute cat or dog. “Well. You absorbed all the sadness of the people here, didn’t you?” Grace asked the still air. Her eyes were drawn to a murky corner of the bedroom, a patch that stayed dark, as if the beam of her bedside lamp was sliced off with the edge of a knife.
Silly. Darkness doesn’t have ears. Or eyes. It’s gotta be the way these old ceilings are angled. I’ll get a floor lamp to plug in over there.
