36. Katrin

Chapter 36

Katrin

I woke to the sound of clinking glasses and boisterous laughter. The pain in my leg had lightened to a dull throb, but my head was pounding. I debated sinking back into oblivion before anyone could notice I was awake, but whatever surface I was lying on left something to be desired.

My limbs were stiff, and I failed to suppress a moan as I roused.

Chair legs scraped the floor, followed by the pounding of quick footsteps, and then Evander was before me. The unguarded emotions flickering across his face rendered me speechless. Curiosity. Anger. Concern. Each one made me more certain I'd crossed into some alternative reality. This version of Evander was nothing like mine—like the one I knew.

Perhaps the bite had killed me and this was the Afterworld. It seemed unlikely, but nothing in my life was ever as it appeared to be.

I opened my mouth, debating which question needed answering first but hesitated as Evander's eyes flicked to something beyond my shoulder. When he looked back at me, his features had returned to their usual position of bored indifference.

"How are you feeling, Miss Fil'Owen?" he asked, tip-toeing around all that lay unspoken between us.

I would not be so evasive. "Back to formalities now, are we?"

His head tilted to one side. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Again, his gaze flicked beyond me. I turned and caught a glimpse of the man I'd seen from the carriage. He held a cigar in one hand and a glass of amber liquid in the other. Lounging casually against the fireplace mantel, he did not attempt to hide his blatant observation of us.

I leaned closer to Evander, lowering my voice to that of a whisper. "You called me Kat."

"That never happened," Evander's voice matched mine for quietness, but I didn't miss the note of teasing.

"Liar." A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"You were gravely injured. It's obvious you were hallucinating."

His mention of my wound drew my attention to my bandage-wrapped leg. His gaze followed mine, and he frowned.

"Does it hurt?" he asked earnestly.

I nodded. "Less now but walking should prove an interesting task."

Shimmying to the edge of the table, I slid onto the packed dirt floor. I was careful to keep most of my weight on my uninjured leg. Evander's arms appeared on either side of me. He didn't touch me but offered support should I need it.

I shifted my weight to my other leg, bracing myself against the table. My ankle twinged in pain but nothing I couldn't handle. Bolstered, I lifted my good foot to step again and tumbled into Evander's waiting arms.

My hands splayed over his muscled chest, and I looked up to find our faces entirely too close together. Our eyes locked, breath intermingling. I bit my lip and his gaze dropped to my mouth.

A throat cleared from across the room and we sprang apart. Well, he sprang. I shuffled. Somehow, he managed to keep a hold of me while putting distance between us. My cheeks heated, and for once, I was glad for the shadows that hid the reaction from the two men. With Evander's help, I half hopped, half walked to one of the arm chairs before the hearth.

As soon as I was safely seated, Evander released me and took a decorous step back. I eyed the space between us with distaste. Next time, I'd just ask my shadows to help me walk.

The dark stranger watched our interactions with a look of mild amusement. As the silence began to stretch toward uncomfortable territory, he approached me, offering his hand with a flourish.

"My dear, please forgive him," he said, tossing his head toward Evander. "Our mutual friend seems to have forgotten how to exist among polite society." The twinkle in his eye suggested he himself had never belonged in polite society. He took my hand in his and pressed a chaste kiss along my knuckles. "You may call me Sam."

I giggled despite myself. There was something about him that put me at ease. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam. You may call me Kat."

"The pleasure is mine, dear Kitty Kat. I assure you." His lips found my hand again, lingering intimately.

Evander scoffed from his place against the wall, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"The two of you are friends?" I asked, though it seemed unlikely. Evander wasn't exactly friendly.

Sam laughed and Evander brows pinched at the outburst.

"Evander and I are two sides of the same coin," said Sam. "Both of us gamblers who bet on the wrong hand and paid the ultimate price."

"It wasn't the wrong hand, it was a fixed game," Evander corrected.

I considered what I knew of Evander and put the pieces together. "You traded your soul to Death as well?"

All traces of humor left Sam's face. He leaned forward, dark eyes staring into mine, demanding my focus. "There is no winning when it comes to Death. There is only avoidance. Even the luckiest of men succumb eventually."

That didn't bode well for my predicament.

Evander watched me with a guarded expression. Did his thoughts align with mine?

I wondered if they'd discussed my situation as I slept. I shook my head. "I'm not trying to live forever. I just want a fair chance at a normal lifespan."

Sam's brows rose in interest. "Ah, but what is fair in life and death, Kitty Kat? Is it fair for the babe born too sick to survive its first winter? Is it fair that the rich live long while the poor die young? Is it fair that a man will trade his very soul to be with the one he loves, only to be torn away by Death without so much as a farewell?" His eyes flicked to Evander, who appeared to be ignoring both of us. "Not all deaths are so plainly marked upon one's skin. Most people live not knowing when their end will come and have no choice but to accept it when it does." Sam took a long drag from his cigar. "Perhaps you are the unfair one here."

The fire crackled in the hearth, the only sound within the small cabin. Sam's words sent my thoughts spiraling into the darker corners of my mind. I'd heard what had gone unsaid.

My plan was selfish. I was selfish.

Whether he'd held his tongue out of consideration for me or respect for Evander, I didn't know, but my chest ached like he'd cleaved me in two and taken out my self-serving heart for all to see.

I blinked rapidly to dispel the tears filling my eyes. I would not cry.

"You always were an ass." Evander's voice speared through the dark room, a hint of humor dulling the edge. "She did what either of us would have done—what we did do."

"That was different."

"How?"

"Because neither of us were trying to save our own asses." Sam threw back the contents of his glass in a single swallow. "Because our sacrifices were gladly made in the name of love."

"So you would fault her for desiring a chance to find a love like that?"

"Is that why you're helping her?"

"You know why I'm helping her."

"But does she?"

" She is right here," I interjected. "And I don't appreciate being spoken about as if I wasn't."

Evander appeared chastened as he looked down, clearing his throat. "We should go."

"Nonsense." Sam's smile returned, and the space brightened. "There is room enough here for two more."

It was then I noticed Inky and Storm hovering nearby. Had it been my imagination or had they closed in when the conversation had taken a turn? Though they now bobbed innocuously near the rafters, Sam watched them with undisguised curiosity, his gaze sliding down to take in Evander and myself as well.

"I appreciate what you've done for us, but our presence here jeopardizes your safety. It would be foolish to harbor us." Evander stepped to my side, offering his hand to help me stand.

Sam slammed his glass upon the mantel. "Behryn can suck my bollocks. Begging your pardon, my lady." He didn't look sorry at all as he dipped his head in my direction. "His Fangs will need longer than the day to recover and you're safer here away from prying eyes."

Evander's eyes met mine, indecision written across his face. I shifted and winced as a sharp pain lanced up my leg. His gaze dropped to my bandaged ankle, and I got the feeling he was weighing our options. When his face lifted again, his features had hardened with resolve.

"Fine," he said. "We'll stay, but only until it is safe for Miss Fil'Owen to travel again. And she gets the bedroom."

Sam tipped his head. "Agreed."