Page 15 of A Lick of Flame

He nods again, trying to put on a brave face.

I apply some ointment to the wound, and Stephan hisses again.

“There,” I tell him. “All done. Now, no more running up and down those stairs.”

“Yes, Sister,” he replies obediently.

“I mean it, young man,” I pretend to scold him, wagging my finger and narrowing my eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nods solemnly, his big brown eyes looking serious.

I can't help but smile and wink at him. “Alright, then; off you go to play.”

“Thank you, Sister.” With a burst of energy, Stephan jumps up and runs off toward the other children.

“No running!” I call after him with a smile.

He slows for a moment before picking up speed once again. Shaking my head fondly, I turn my attention back to cleaning up. I carefully put away all of my supplies and rinse out the bloodied cloth using tallow until only faint rust-colored stains remain. After a thorough final rinse, I hang it up on the line to dry. I look up and can almost make out the sun through the haze above us.

Then, I make my way to the vegetable garden. The farmer, Xander, helped us to set it up. He gifted us seedlings and a sapling or two. Taught me how to tend to the various plants. The glass that covers the courtyard acts as a greenhouse. Since it rains so much, the water catchment system works well for our day-to-day needs. We really can’t complain. I dry my hands on my apron as I walk.

Once I am done here, I will collect the eggs. Again, we have the farmer to thank for all of it, including the well-stocked larder.

I get down on my knees, checking to see if the potatoes are ready yet. Nearly. I will leave them a few more days. Once they are harvested, I’ll be able to make a hearty potato and leek stew for dinner. The carrots, however, are ready, so I gently pull them out one by one, marveling at their vibrant orange color. I gather the vegetables in my apron, which I pull up as a makeshift sling against my body as I stand.

From out of nowhere, I get a vivid picture of Raila in my mind’s eye. I didn’t sleep well and…well…I miss the little creature, so perhaps it isn’t as out of nowhere as I think. My eyes sting for a moment, but the laughter of the children pulls me out of my reverie. Is it possible to have formed an attachment in such a short time? I keep walking, clutching my apron tighter.

My right shoulder suddenly aches, and I roll it. That fae and his damned magic. I have tried twice now to rid my skin of the mark he put there, but it won’t budge. It’s like it was placed below the surface.

I try to push the thoughts from my mind because there is so much to do. After I finish in the garden, there are chickens to feed and eggs to be collected. Today is washing day. I need to help the other sisters. We’re shorthanded since Olivia disappeared when the fae attacked us a few days ago. We were never really fast friends, but I hope she is okay. I would never wish anyone ill. Particularly where those evil fae are concerned.

I think about the beastfae. What did he call himself? Orion. I picture his bright green eyes. The way they seemed to pierce right into me. I think of his wound and how he collapsed. Then I remind myself that he is a fae. That he has fast healing, and possesses the strength and stamina of four men. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care! I don’t!

I enter through the back door that leads to the kitchen when I get another picture of Raila in my mind. I feel instant longing. It hits me like a physical blow. I stagger back a step or two, leaning against the wall.

What is wrong with me?

I shake my head. No! I need to forget the whelp. This won’t do! It won’t. I belong here, and Raila needs to be with her mother.

The sense of longing and need hits me again. With it comes a throbbing in my head. I groan, letting go of my apron and pressing my hands to the sides of my head, trying to quell the pain. I barely notice as the carrots fall to the floor in a heap.

The pain intensifies, and I grind out a moan that quickly turns into a scream. My head is going to split in two. I can feel it. My eyes grow wide. Wetness spatters, dripping down my chin and onto my chest. I realize with horror that it is blood. I’m bleeding from my nose. It’s pouring. It feels like someone has stabbed me through each of my temples.

Mother Trinity rushes down the stairs; worry lines her face. Louisa and Elsie rush from the laundry, soapsuds dripping on the floor in a trail behind them.

I fall onto my knees, and then, blessedly, I pass out.

8

Maya

The next day…

I wake up sprawled on the cold, hard wood of my bedroom floor.

Oh no!

No!

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