Page 58 of Taste of Death

She stared at me with the door now a barrier between us, only her head visible. The look on her face was somehow worse than Tom’s. I saw fear, revulsion, pity. The jagged glass pieces inside me crushed into thousands of tiny shards, all of them cutting so much deeper than ever before.

Neither she nor Tom had ever seen a brusang before, but that didn’t make the looks in their eyes hurt any less.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there when something big and dark blocked my view of Robin.

“We’re repairing the damage from the attack as scheduled.” Rhain’s low, growly voice boomed from directly in front of me. “Naturally, we can only work at night. There is nothing to be alarmed about. We’ll be finishing shortly.”

He turned and used gentle maneuvering on my shoulders to turn me around as well. With light pressure on my back, he urged me to walk. I became unfrozen somehow and went with him to the perimeter. It was only when he guided me to the van that I realized my hands were empty. Rhain had taken my bucket of water.

“Don’t worry about the fence. I’ll help Des and Laith finish it up,” he said in the softest tone I’d ever heard from him. “Just… have a seat. We’re almost done here.”

“Okay.” I felt like a robot that had been shut down. The humiliation had reached so deep, the glass sculpture crushed and pulverized to the point of feeling nothing.

Rhain hesitated like he wanted to say something but then thought better of it, and left me there.

So I sat alone, with nothing but Tom and Robin’s horrified expressions playing on a loop in my head.

Chapter 18

Novak

Ipulled away from the microscope and rubbed my eyes. If I looked at any more tissue samples tonight, I’d surely go blind.

Enough work for tonight. Dawn was an hour away.

I switched off the light on the microscope and stretched my arms overhead as I crossed my office. The bottle of wine in the sitting area tempted me, but it was the one made by Amy’s friend. I’d much rather share it with her.

She’d probably be finishing with the Sapien repairs by now. I wondered how it went, if she got what she needed from the visit.

My cell phone lay dark and silent on my desk. Should I text her, or would that be too much? We’d been tentatively crossing more touch barriers lately. I was enjoying our growing closeness, and it seemed she was too. But Amy was still figuring herself out, and I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

She never mentioned coming over after finishing in Sapien, but I hoped she would. Even after just a few hours apart, I found myself missing her. A lot.

I returned to my desk, deciding on sending her a casual, friendly checking-in text, when I heard the doorbell from downstairs.

Hope lit up my chest as I left the office and hit the stairs. I could barely feel my feet, I was practically floating.

“Sir?” Lourna hesitated in the foyer when she saw me coming down.

“I’ll get it, thank you.”

She smoothed the look of surprise on her face quickly. I never rushed to answer the door. I’d never been excited to receive visitors until recently.

I pulled the door open and the rush of joy at seeing Amy gave me a lightheaded feeling. She had just been here the night before, but it still felt like too long.

“Hey, come in. I was just about to text you.”

She walked through, crossing the foyer silently. The poor thing was probably exhausted after doing manual labor all night. She probably needed blood. And maybe another foot massage. Or a shoulder massage. I wasn’t picky. I only wanted to touch her and to listen to her voice.

“Are you hungry? Jo said you could raid the fridge, so she left things in there for you. I still have Tavia’s wine from the other night if you want to split it. Amy?”

My joy at her presence turned to worry. Something wasn’t right. She was never this quiet.

I moved in front of her to see her face. Her expression was completely blank, just empty. Her eyes were vacant, unfocused and off somewhere else.

“Amy?” I took her face in my hands, concern hitching my breath. Even that first day we met, at her lowest possible point, she was expressive. Emotional. Whatever this was, it wasn’t her.

“Akra, what the hell happened?” My thumbs stroked over her temples and the apples of her cheeks, trying to pull her attention from wherever her mind was. “What is it? Please tell me.”

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