Chapter 10

The day rushes by in a blur of bandages. Taking dirty ones off. Cleaning wounds, some worse than others. Some showing signs of infection. Cutting up more linens. Cleaning more wounds. Rebandaging.

What I wouldn't give for penicillin and a few banana bags.

Sulen's worth her weight in gold, offering small talk to both me and the victims of the attack. She's sweet and easygoing, and she helps distract me from Hyadum, who runs through my mind on loop.

Hyadum, who's helping move the less seriously injured back to the larger town of Westshear. He makes rounds through the lodge turned hospital, too, offering words of comfort to the people there.

I tie off a bandage, my fingers aching from the repetitive motion. My gaze darts to him again before I refocus on another wound, this one a deep gouge across the person's collarbone.

"You should not be out here," the man gasps, his eyes fluttering open. His clammy hand grasps my upper arm, and I try not to flinch.

"Relax, sir," I tell him. "I'm here to help you."

"You don't understand," he says, eyelids fluttering.

I shush him, and Sulen presses a cup of steaming herbal tea to his lips, the one she says will help take away the fever currently burning through this man.

His throat moves as he swallows, then he knocks away her hand, causing some of the tea to splash onto the floor. "You do not understand," the man repeats.

"You have a fever." I dab ointment onto the wound on his collarbone. "Rest. The tea will help."

Sulen begins to bring the cup back to his lips, but a calloused hand stays her.

Hyadum.

He crouches next to the man, his body tense. I can't decide if I want to step back… or step closer to him.

Ugh.

"What troubles you, friend?" he asks, his voice low and comforting. None of the belligerence I've heard all too well from him. And none of the teasing he seems to save just for me, either.

"Her." The man points a trembling finger at me, and this time, I do flinch.

"Did I hurt you?" Shit. Maybe I was too rough with him.

"No, you fool. Fool! They were here for her, Hyadum, they told me they'd take her to him themselves, and would laugh as he tears out her throat. She should not be here. She brings trouble on us all."

Sulen's eyes are round and scared.

"Is this true?" Hyadum asks her. "They spoke of Mina?"

"Yes," Sulen tells him, glancing at me guiltily before dropping her gaze. "But we need her help. I cannot tend to everyone alone. My cousin and I are not as fast as she is." Her voice quavers at the end, like she's afraid, but she tilts her chin up.

The hair on the back of my neck rises. "How would they know I was here?"

"They will come back for her," the man warns, but the fight's gone from his voice, and after a moment, his head relaxes against the makeshift pillow, sleep pulling him under again.

Fuck.

My hands are trembling, and I tuck them under my arms to hide them.

"Mina." Hyadum's voice grates against my nerves. "Come with me."

"They need me here," I say stubbornly.

"We don't, not anymore," Sulen says, cringing slightly. "I've got this. For now."

"The sun's been down for hours." Hyadum gentles his voice, his forehead creasing. "Come on."

I nod once, then force myself to stand upright, dusting my hands along the too-large pants I threw on this morning. Sulen smiles at me, but there's a fearful, apologetic slant to it

I trail behind him, playing the man's words over in my head. They came for me?

"How did they know I was here?"

"They have magic." Hyadum casts a look at me over his shoulder, the door to the lodge swinging shut behind me. "Not like ours. They've been obsessed with the Starbound women since they arrived here over a century ago. It's why your ancestors left."

"So the magic told them?" The question drops out of my mouth, and it sounds idiotic to my ears.

Hyadum doesn't laugh though, simply cocks his head at me, considering. "It must have. Somehow."

Right. Of course. Sure thing. I try not to roll my eyes, because why the fuck would anyone launch a raid for me? I'm pretty much useless magically, until I decide to climb Hyadum, that is, and I've decided he's probably right about me needing time to decide.

"Then we need to leave. I need to leave, I mean. There's no point in endangering these people any more than I already have."

"The blood drinkers would not dare attack again when I am here," Hyadum says, and there's a dangerous cast to his eyes now. It's said with no ego, no bravado, but factually.

I swallow hard. It shouldn't be enough to make me feel better, but it does. I dip my chin once. I'm not ready to leave my patients, but I would if I thought it would keep them safe.

His gaze takes in the stains on the baggy clothes I found, and something shifts in his expression.

"You know," he drawls, slowing down so we're side by side, walking through the mostly quiet village until we're at the door to his house. "As much as I like you in my pants, I think I will have to find you some clothes that fit you better."

I sidle past him into the house, and the sight of the kitchen, where I aggressively made out with him mere hours ago, sends a rush of heat through me.

"Ah, Mina, coruscant," Hyadum purrs, following my gaze. "Are you embarrassed? Your cheeks are pink again."

"No," I say stoutly. "I'm just dirty." I pause, tilting my head. Right. Because that's what I wanted to say. "I mean, I need to clean up." I mime washing, in case he's never heard of it here in acid trip Medieval Times.

"Do you need help?" He steps closer, a sly grin on his face.

I gulp. "No. I need to know what passes for a shower here."

"Are you sure? Because I could think of several ways to help you get clean."

I clench my teeth together, trying to ignore what his words are doing to my body, trying to ignore the renewed desire surging through me.

Ugh!

"I'm sure you do. But you said this morning you wanted to give me time, so back off and tell me where the damned shower is." The words snap out of me forcefully. "I used the tiny basin and pump in my room to clean up this morning, but I need more than that if you don't want me to turn into a total asshole. Or smell like one."

Hyadum, however, looks anything but surprised by my outburst. "There's my fierce little coruscant." His shoulders shake with laughter.

My jaw drops open. Did he bait me on purpose? To distract me from what Sulen said?

"Come on then," he says, beckoning for me to follow.

When he opens the door to his room, my lower body clenches.

An image of him this morning flashes through my mind, his horns pressed against the window, his powerful, scarred body bowed, naked from the waist up.

I was so busy taking him in I failed to notice the second door, the one he's now pushing open.

A huge tub sits on the floor, and a little sigh escapes me.

"It is not as nice as the one on my estate, but it will have to do. I will go fetch you the water now." His gaze catches mine, darkening as it flicks between me and the tub.

Like he's imagining me naked.

This is bad. This is so bad. The way I feel around him is like nothing I've ever experienced. Everything about him is a drug to my senses, and all my best intentions seem to fly out of my mind, scattering to the wind when he gets too close.

"Okay," I say, my voice unnaturally high. "That would be great. I'll just wait here."

He opens his mouth like he's going to say something else, then turns on his heel.

I sink against the edge of the tub, nearly covering my face with my hands before I remember I didn't get a chance to wash them after the last patient. Disgusting.

There's another small pitcher and basin in the corner here, near a piece of mirrored glass with a large crack through it. A small cake of soap rests next to it, and I scrub it over my hands and in my nails, sudsing it up as best I can.

Resting my hands on the stand, I stare at my distorted reflection in the mirror. Purple half-moons stand out under my eyes, and my hair's a tangled knot on top of my head. I need a comb. I need a goddamn spa day.

For some reason, it's that thought that sets me off, a wave of sorrow shuddering through me.

I'll never have a spa day again. I'll never get to binge Netflix or go out late at night for a drive-through taco. I'll never have Starbucks, or even the bitter coffee they serve in the hospital cafeteria. Have my coworkers filed a report with the police? Do they miss me? I swallow hard, but it doesn't stop the slight sob from coming out.

I may never see my sisters again.

Now that I'm not keeping myself busy, the boxes I've carefully compartmentalized my emotions into crack wide open, and sorrow leaks through the fissures.

My old life is gone.

Tears leak from my eyes, and the woman staring back at me in the mirror looks tired and sad.

I hang my head, letting the tears flow. I always told patients better out than in. Maybe it's time I took my own advice.

I don't hear Hyadum reenter the room until the sound of splashing water jerks my attention to him. Somehow, he's managed to carry not two, not four, but six huge buckets at once.

Wow. That's… that should be impossible.

He sends a quick glance at me, and if he notes my tears, he doesn't say anything. One by one, the buckets go into the tub, until it's near full.

"I will return," he tells me, and there's an intense quality to his voice that tells me he's not teasing, that this wasn't some sexual overture.

I hug my arms around my chest, sniffling a little. It doesn't matter how many times I've told people not to be ashamed to cry, how many hands I've held and hugs I've given when my patients needed comfort, crying still feels self-indulgent. Weak. I'm supposed to be the strong one.

When Hyadum reappears, it's with a strange metal contraption in hand, steam or smoke hissing from the grates. I blink, all cried-out and confused.

"What's that?"

"You do not bathe in hot water in your world? It sounds a cruel place."

"That's to heat the—" My mouth snaps shut when he drops it in the water, where it hisses and boils. Steam curls from where it went in, and he wipes his hands together, seemingly satisfied. "Right."

"I cannot believe you have never enjoyed a hot bath."

"Of course I have, we just don't use those things to do it."

"Oh? Then what heats your water?"

I make a vague gesture. "Pipes. I don't know. A boiler? You know what? Never mind. Thank you."

He beams at me, and the transformation on his scarred face makes my heart hiccup. He may not be the handsomest man I've ever seen, but he's striking. And when he smiles?

My knees are weak.

"Do you have a comb?" I ask, groping around for a distraction.

"Do not worry, little coruscant, I will find you some things to make you more comfortable. In fact, people have been bringing gifts for you all day."

"What? Why?"

"To say thank you, obviously." He peers at me, as if trying to decipher my question. "I will see if there are any things you might want for your bath now."

My heart squeezes a little. That these people, with their burnt out, destroyed homes, their loved ones hurt and scared, would think to put together a thank you gift for the little I've done for them… It means a lot.

I sniff, tears threatening again, but for a completely different reason.

For someone who seldom cries, I've really done a lot of it lately.

I strip down, glad to take off the gross clothes. They puddle on the floor, and I watch them fall, detached. Like this is all still some dream, and there's not a pan full of hot coals bubbling in the bottom of this tub. When I slip into it, it's not hot, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it's warm enough to help ease the tense muscles in my shoulders and neck. I let my head loll.

If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine I'm at my apartment, and that the strange lights that flicker on the walls are candles.

"Here, I found some fragrant soap someone left, and a comb, and…"

I sit up, sloshing water from the tub and making an unholy squeal. "Get out," I yelp, splashing water at Hyadum on pure reflex. "Gimme the soap and get out."

"Here," he yells back, throwing a wax and twine wrapped package at me. It splashes into the water, bobbing merrily along in the wake. "I will have dinner ready when you are done."

He's not leaving though, but standing there, his eyes glued on where the tops of my breasts peek from the water.

"Out," I say, my throat dry.

When the door finally snicks shut behind him, I cover my face with my hands.