None of it was clean, and as she lifted the tunic, the whiff of the prison camp lingered in the cloth like a stain.
Unable to bear the smell, she wrapped herself in the blanket and stood over what she had worn, wondering where she could find replacements. The fact that she had no options for something as basic as clothing was chilling, and she felt the pull to return to what she knew, the delusion that she could somehow hide herself amid the more structured arrangement of the new prison camp a tantalizing lie.
“You are a coward,” she said.
Riding that condemnation, she gathered everything she had to her name, and carried the small pile over to the door.
When she opened things, Kane was sitting on the couch at the foot of the bed. He had his head propped up on his fist, his elbow on the arm of the sofa, his body in a relaxed arrangement that belied the strength he had somehow gathered within his previously injured flesh.
He looked up. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She indicated the bathroom behind her. “They have soap and hot water.”
“That wolven is a good host.”
“He is.”
She glanced around and intended to make a comment. Instead, she fell silent.
“It’s after sunset,” he said. “The wolven is coming back here soon. That’s what he told us.”
“Then you should wait for him, yes.” Nadya held her clothes even tighter. “And I… well, I don’t know where I’m going, but you’re right. It can’t be back to the prison camp.”
He exhaled in obvious relief. “Oh, blessed Virgin Scribe. Listen, you can come to the wolven clan’s territory. Mayhem is still recovering there, and I’m sure they’ll give you a place to rest and—”
“They’re strangers who owe me nothing. I can’t impose on them.”
“Then where will you go.”
“I’ll figure something out.” As she dropped her stare, she could feelhis frown as if it were a gust of dissatisfaction. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Nadya—”
“And you? Where will you go off to?”
As a wave of exhaustion crept up on her, she leaned against the doorjamb and thought back to the apple they’d shared sometime around dawn. She had to eat properly before she left—and then she realized that not only was she not very mobile, she had not been able to dematerialize since she’d been wounded.
Cursing herself, she detested the helplessness—
“When was the last time you fed?” Kane asked. Then he put up his hand. “Please… just answer the question. I don’t think either of us has the energy for any more arguments.”
As Kane waited to see if she was going to answer him, it took everything he had to stay where he was on the couch. Over in the bathroom doorway, Nadya was looking as though she was ill from fatigue, and as he imagined her setting off in the dark, alone, unarmed and unable to protect herself, his stomach turned.
Which was why he’d asked her the intimate question.
“I’ll eat before I go,” she said. “I was just thinking that very thing, actually—”
“I’m not talking about food,” he cut in darkly. “And I know you fed me back at the clinic.”
When she looked over sharply, he nodded. “You opened your vein with your own fangs and put your wrist over my mouth. The taste of you was the first thing that I remember that wasn’t pain. Come to think of it, it was the only thing that did not hurt me.”
She lowered her eyes to the bundle of clothes that she was holding tightly to her chest. “I did not know you were aware.”
“I’m only alive because you shared of yourself.” He cleared his throat. “So will you let me replenish you?”
“You already saved my life.” She fiddled with the blanket she’d wrapped around herself. “So your perceived debt to me has been repaid. We’re even now.”
“Well, if that’s the logic you want to use, you have to allow me to repay the gift of your vein, too. It is only fair, do you not agree?”