19. Rob

19

ROB

R ob woke up with a headache, and for a moment, he was confused about where he was. As things came into focus, he recognized Gertrude's room, but his foggy mind couldn't piece together how he'd gotten there.

She wasn't in bed with him, and given the sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtains, it was late morning. He should get up and get some coffee in him to chase that headache away.

In the bathroom, he examined his body in the mirror and was glad to find minimal bruising. Arwel had gone easy on him. In fact, he was surprised the Guardian had managed to get aggressive enough to produce venom. Perhaps he'd recited vile verses in his own head to spur himself on.

Rob chuckled and pulled out the toothbrush he kept at Gertrude's place. They were definitely getting serious about each other, and they needed to discuss living arrangements. Margo had offered him a room in her and Negal's house, and he'd told her that he would give her an answer after talking with Gertrude, but he'd been too chicken to bring it up.

Besides, there hadn't been time or, rather, the right time.

When he was done in the bathroom, he returned to the bedroom and pulled on the change of clothes that he kept in her closet. Opening the door, he smelled coffee, and his eyes nearly rolled back from imagining taking that first sip.

The simple pleasures were what made life worth living. People thought that they had to achieve great things or look like movie stars to be happy, but the truth was that it took much less. To have a partner who cared about them, a good family and friends, a great cup of coffee or tea, a tasty meal, a comfortable bed, and a job that was at least tolerable but preferably challenging and exciting.

In his previous life, Rob had all those things except for the care of a partner, and it was the lack of that one missing piece that made his life feel mediocre instead of wonderful.

He found Gertrude in the kitchen, kneading dough on the counter, her hands and her apron covered in flour .

"You're awake!" She looked surprised. "How are you feeling? Sit down before you fall down."

"I'm fine." He crossed to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, careful to avoid the flour. "I don't remember much about last night. How did I get here?"

"You were pretty out of it after the ceremony," she said as he poured himself coffee from the carafe. "Margo helped me get you here." She smiled. "It's the job of the mother or the girlfriend to take care of the Dormant after his induction ceremony. It wouldn't have been right to bring you to Toven and Mia's house."

Now would have been the perfect time to bring up their living arrangement, but as usual, he chickened out, excusing it by the sense of lethargy that still lingered in his limbs after the match.

It shouldn't affect his mouth or vocal cords, but he felt like he needed to be in perfect shape to start that conversation.

"I had the strangest dreams," he said as he sat down and put his coffee cup on the table.

The memories were becoming foggy, and he rubbed his temples, trying to sort through the haze.

"Oh, yeah? What were they about?"

"Dragons," he snorted. "I was riding a dragon into battle. That's all I remember. It's probably the result of watching Game of Thrones with Toven the other evening. "

Gertrude nodded sagely as she shaped the dough into a loaf. "The venom can cause vivid dreams. Not that I've experienced it, but that's what I've heard."

On the one hand, he was glad that she had never hooked up with immortals so she couldn't compare his performance to theirs and find it lacking, but on the other hand, he felt bad for her that she hadn't had the chance to experience what Margo described as an out-of-body, out-of-this-world trip.

Thankfully, his sister hadn't delved into the particulars because even hearing about that part of immortal sex had been too much information for him. No one wanted to hear about their sister's coital details.

According to Bridget, even if he started transitioning right away, it would take between six months to a year for his fangs and venom glands to become functional, so he wouldn't be pleasuring Gertrude that way anytime soon.

"What are you making?" he asked, to pull his thoughts out of that spiral.

"Bread. I don't like making frequent trips to the supermarket, so I buy flour and ingredients in bulk and bake my own bread. That's how things were done when I was young, and I also like knowing what goes into the things I eat. You have no idea what junk they put into commercially made food products. "

Rob studied her face, wondering just how old she was that her early years predated not only supermarkets but also bakeries. He'd promised himself not to ask, and he convinced himself that it didn't matter, but things were getting serious between them, and it seemed wrong not to know such a basic thing about her.

"Now I know why everything in your house tastes so good. You make it all from scratch."

She seemed pleased by his compliment. "Not only that, I also use herbs that I grow in my garden. It doesn't get any fresher than that." She cast him a smile and then frowned. "You look pale. Are you sure you are feeling alright?"

"I feel strange," he admitted finally. "Not loopy anymore, but a little iffy. What are the first signs of transition?"

Gertrude wiped her hands on a dishtowel and turned to face him fully. "Usually fever or flu-like symptoms. Some males start growing their venom glands right away, so you might feel like you have an inflamed throat. If your gums hurt, it could be fangs starting to grow and push out your canines."

Rob ran his tongue over his teeth experimentally. "None of that. Just a general feeling of lethargy."

"Lethargy is a flu symptom," she said, crossing to him and pressing her hand to his forehead. "But you don't feel warm. "

Her touch lingered, gentle and comforting. "Hungry?" she asked. "I could make you an omelet."

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed, and Margo's face lit up the screen.

"Yes, please," he said to Gertrude before accepting the call.

"Good morning, Margo."

"How are you feeling?" his sister demanded without preamble.

"Tired but okay." He watched as Gertrude began gathering ingredients for breakfast. "No definite signs of transition yet."

There was a moment of silence and then a disappointed sigh. "Well, look on the bright side. If your transition doesn't start today, you can attend the wedding."

"If nothing changes between now and then, I'll definitely come." He smiled as Gertrude cracked eggs into a bowl with practiced efficiency. "Right now, I'm about to eat breakfast using my old canines."

She laughed. "Soon, you'll have fangs. You are a confirmed Dormant. There is no question of you transitioning. The only question is when."

"I know. Love you."

"Love you too."

After ending the call, Rob watched Gertrude cook, and he had to admit that everything about this moment felt right—waking up in her house, watching her cook, and sharing a quiet morning together.

Which reminded him. "Where is Hildegard?"

Gertrude turned to look at him over her shoulder. "She stayed the night at her guy's place. It's the second time she's done that with the same male, so maybe she's developing feelings for him."

"Who is he? One of Kalugal's men or a Kra-ell?"

"Kalugal's. She refuses to tell me who he is, though. She's so weird."

It was now or never. "Is there a chance she will move in with him?"

That got Gertrude's attention, and she turned to him fully. "It's too early to know, but why are you asking?"

He swallowed. "Margo invited me to move in with her and Negal because I've already overstayed my welcome at Toven and Mia's, but I told her that I would discuss it with you first."