Page 18 of Bound By Blood
Picking up the beans, she drained out the water they'd been soaking in and then poured the beans into the pot of broth and bones.
"I'm just getting ready to make tonight's soup. White beans with pork and thyme, and—" She halted, realizing she had in fact forgotten to get the water. And she'd just poured out the water the beans had soaked in.
He tilted his head. "What's wrong?"
She set her hands on her waist, her fingers curving around the coarse ties of her apron. "It's nothing."
"Doesn't look like it's nothing." He glanced back over his shoulder as if that might offer some insight, then looked back at her. "You're upset?"
"No."
There was a solution. There had to be. She had a quart of milk in the icebox and whatever was in the pitcher, but even combined, that wouldn't make more than half a pot. And opening up the well at night when you were human…
She closed her eyes, suppressing a shudder. And that was assuming Ryul didn't pull anything. How likely was that, anyway? He was a blood fae who had been jumped and essentially tricked into giving up a magical manifestation of his powers that had become a dog. How likely was he to—
Buttons barked.
Something liquid sloshed near the window.
She opened her eyes.
Ryul stood at the open window with a large bucket of water in hand. "Is this what you need?"
She hesitated, fingers tightening as she studied him. Was there some sort of trick here? Why had he done that?
He gave the bucket a small shake. Some more water spilled out. "If you don't want it, let me know."
She stepped closer. "And what do you want in return?"
"Nothing." He scowled. "It isn't like you can make soup without liquid. Especially not beans."
"No." She continued to study him, noting the almost hesitancy in his expression. But there was also an openness. Those amethyst eyes seemed very young and very sincere right now. "You didn't do anything to it?"
He rolled his eyes, then sighed and laughed. "Just watch." He poured the water out and returned to the well.
Blinking, she hurried to the window. What was he doing?
As he reached the well, he set the bucket down. Then he lifted the wooden lid. A long purple tentacle shot up, moving as if to coil around him. He didn't even flinch. Just lifted his hand and flexed two fingers. A bright burst of red and purple energy flared around the tentacle. It slid down out of sight. He then lowered the gathering bucket into the well.
That was actually—that was kind. And he hadn't killed the squid. He'd just sent it back down into the well where it belonged.
He emptied the now-full bucket into his own and returned to her. "See?" He placed it on the windowsill. "No tricks."
"Thank you." She edged closer, her gaze fixed on him. Was he pleased? Was it possible there was some trick that she hadn't thought of?
His brow tweaked. "Are you going to take it?"
"No poison or anything like that?"
"You watched me. Aren't your eyes fast enough?" He smiled a little.
"Why would you get that for me?"
He shrugged but dropped his gaze. "I get soup, but you can't make it without water. It has nothing to do with you."
He really could be almost adorable.
She let the smile reach her lips as she took the bucket down. "Well, I won't deprive you of your soup."
