Page 9 of A Touch Of Death

Bobbing my head, I quickly put two and two together based off the expressions on the others. "You showed them?"

Another nod.

Well, alright then. I can't exactly be mad. It's not like they wouldn't have worked it out by now. I have bones sticking out enough to clearly show that I haven't been consuming what I should have over the years of captivity. At least I don't have to say the words out loud. Silver lining.

The hand rubbing my back grows firmer when I don't pull away. I almost forgot what it was like to feel a comforting touch, for someone to soothe me when I needed it. The warmth in Nix's hand seeps into me, and I find myself relaxing under his palm.

Thoughts of my imprisonment fly through the window when my belly makes a weird growl again. Ezra slowly nudges the plate closer to me, as one might when they're trying not to frighten a wounded animal. He raises an eyebrow, and, with a voice like velvet and an accent to match Zayn’s, he tells me, "Eat up. There'll be more when you're done, so don't be shy."

It’s the first he’s spoken to me, and his voice feels like a warm hug on a cold winter’s day. Tears prick my eyes again, but I bat them away. With another whisper, I say, "Thank you, Ezra."

Something flashes over his face, but it's gone before I can think more of it, and he's turning to dish up other plates piled high with food. Spencer nudges the syrup closer my way with a small smile, and I offer him one in return.

I pick up the cutlery I hadn't noticed before and dig in. A sigh of pure bliss escapes with the first bite of the fluffiest pancakes that have ever graced my taste buds. With my second bite, something akin to a whimper leaves me as I savour every chew with my eyes closed after they almost roll to the back of my head. Just as I'm about to take another bite, my eyes open, and, once again, four sets of eyes are watching me intently.

I shove a forkful of food in my mouth and mutter, "These are amazing," as if I hadn't already made it aware.

I catch the quickest smile from Ezra, who looks like he didn't even mean to give me that much. His eyes flash with amusement before his attention goes back to serving up food for himself and the others. The others keep watching, so with another mouthful, I mumble, "It's not very polite to stare."

Sure, it's considered rude, but I'm also eating like a half-starved cow, so I do not need them watching me while I scarf food down like it's the last I'll ever have. Zayn snickers, and my cheeks warm. At least he isn’t staring at me with a look so intense that I feel it down to the very pit of my soul.

"Eat. We'll stop watching," he says with a small smile, his green eyes alight with hilarity. He looks down when Ezra slides him his own plate, and the others mill around the room. I keep eating, zoning everything out around me.

I'm pulled out of my laser sharp focus on my food when I feel a warm body slide up onto the stool directly next to me, squeezing between Zayn and I. If the heat alone hadn't told me it was Nix, his sheer size would have. His entire arm brushes mine, but I don't try to pull away. In fact, I subconsciously move closer just to absorb more of the heat his body radiates. After being starved of warmth and touch for so long, I'm finding myself struggling to remember that I don't know these guys. They're all strangers despite the feeling of overwhelming familiarity I seem to have towards them. I have no idea what their intentions are, and my lack of worry around them is dampening any alarm bells that should be blaring at me by now. They saved me, that's all. I'll have to leave soon enough. I don't know what I'm going to do once I leave this place. Where will I go? How will I get there when I figure it out?

Zayn makes no outward appearance that he heard my inner monologue, so I continue with my food until every last scrap has been demolished and the plate comes close to being licked clean. For the first time in too long my belly is filled to the brim. I'm satisfied and sated.

I'm basking in the feeling when Spencer speaks up. He's moved to sit on the other side of Zayn, so he leans on his forearms to look at me. "Now that you’re fed and hopefully a little more comfortable, mind if we ask you some questions?"

I stiffen before relaxing again. Of course they want answers. The mage said as much when he knocked on the door to the room I’d slept in. It's not like I can't give them that much.

I nod. "Sure. I suppose you have a few to ask me."

Nix snorts, turning his head to face me. "Only about a hundred. No big deal." He flashes me a grin that I don't even try not to return. Apparently, his smiles are infectious. I ignore the flutter in my belly and the way my heartbeat thuds a little faster. I don't know what I did right to land myself in a house with four extremely attractive guys, but the Fates have clearly blessed me with this turn of events. We won't consider me plummeting to my un-death something right.

"What do you want to know first?" I ask, shifting in my seat and awkwardly trying to find a comfortable way to sit now that I'm no longer hunched over the counter.

Nix catches my inability to sit still. "Let's go sit in the living room. My ass can't stand to sit on this fucking barstool much longer."

I surprise myself with a snort. I hop down from the stool, feeling the shirt glide up my legs as I slide off. Thankfully, the shirt stops just before exposing my milk white ass, so I quickly tug it back down once I'm firmly stood on the floor. When I look up from tugging my dress-like shirt in place, I catch Nix's eyes firmly planted on my now covered legs. His gaze in intense and heated, and it's enough for me to start squirming where I stand.

My movements knock him out of his stupor, and he shakes his head. An endearing light blush tints his cheeks, but he ignores his embarrassment and motions to the living area with his head. I follow behind him when he walks to a black leather couch with a grey, fluffy throw over. The others follow behind me, and each takes a spot in the living room as though the places they've taken up are theirs only. I stumble over my own feet before reaching the couch completely, and arms shoot out to steady me.

"We really shouldn't be making you walk with your feet torn up," Spencer mutters behind me. That makes it the second time he's saved me from falling onto my ass.

I shake my head a little, his hands still holding onto me protectively. Strange, but I'm not questioning it right now because I realise I'm not in pain anymore. Every scratch, ache, bruise, and slice has disappeared, no longer making me feel like I went ten rounds with a grizzly bear. "I'm all healed. I just tripped over my own feet, is all."

I offer him a quick smile before extracting myself from his touch that had a flurry of butterflies taking up residence in my belly again. I'll need to work out why these strangers are causing such reactions when I've never met them before.

Slowly, I sit while Spencer returns to the armchair he’d vacated. I sink into the couch with a heavenly sigh. This has to be the comfiest thing I've ever sat on in my entire life. With my head tilted back against the couch and my eyes fluttering closed, I ask, "Okay, hit me with it. Tell me where you want me to start."

I peek one eye open when I hear movement. Ezra sits on a two-seater couch to the left of me. He leans forward in his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of himself. "Why did it take you so long to heal?"

Well, that's not what I was expecting as the first question for my interrogation.

"Uh, I guess it was my lack of energy." I pause, but decide giving them as much of the truth as I can bear to offer is the wisest move for me here. Lying to them feels wrong. A hollow pit forms in my chest with the thought alone. They rescued me, so it's only right I give them honesty in return. "I haven't had sufficient energy to heal the smallest scrapes in five years. I haven't had a full meal like that in the same amount of time and just enough water to keep me hydrated to function properly. The meal you cooked and the water I had was enough to replenish the necessary amount of energy for my healing to speed up. I’ll need to sit in the sun for a while at some point though."

I close my eyes instantly after my explanation, sinking into the couch like it could absorb me. The fear of seeing pity in their eyes is enough for me to keep them closed. I don't need pity. Pity is for the weak, and I'll never be weak again.

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