Page 26 of Baking and Angels

The Next Morning Sucked

Rafferty didn’t feel as bad as he thought he should have when he woke up. Instead of a pounding headache, he just felt dry. Like he really needed to soak up a whole bunch of water in a shower or tub.Opening his eyes, he found Helena lying beside him, curled up under the blanket, which he had clearly passed outon top of.

Light streamed through the curtains, cutting a slice of it over her cheek, giving her red-gold hair an outline of fire. He couldn’t drink the view in enough. She was so precious and sweet, sleeping like that, he could convince himself that nothing had changed about her. Even as he studied her, he couldn’t resist lifting a finger to caress down her cheek, only to hesitate an inch aboveher skin.

His forgotten shame filled him again, the alcohol having done nothing to wipe it truly away. He had abandoned her when she had been at her most vulnerable. And yet, she had just forgiven him.

Disgusted with himself, he withdrew his hand and slowly sat up so as not to disturb her.

After everything she had done for him, all the times she had shown him mercy and compassion, and all he could think about was his revulsion at the idea of touching her. The uncanny feeling she had given off whispered underneath his skin, and he rubbed at his fingers to try to dispel it.How can I do this to her?

This beautiful creature had become a demon for him, traded her life for his, and he couldn’t even bear to touch her. He had called her an angel, but he knew what he had seen, what he had felt. She had become what he had been, something that needed to go back into hell. His whole being told him the truth in the presence of her unnaturalness. And last night, she had used power on him to wipe away his hangover.It is only a matter of time before she will need to take energy back in. Who might she harm when that happens?

Not that he really cared about those theoretical victims. He had never cared before what other demons did or to whom, but to think of Helenathat way…

Hating himself for thinking such thoughts, he slipped from the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom, shutting the door as silently aspossible.

The hotel had provided an automatic sensor for the lights and the one over the shower stall clicked on in response. With a sigh of relief, he turned the handle within the stall, immensely enjoying the patter of the water as it fell against the floor. He had seen showers before, he had even eyed the one in Helena’s house, but had never dared to ask her if he could…take one.

Now, it felt almost sacred as he undressed, removing the jeans he wore and feeling his own hands slide down his very real skin. He felt pleasure at touching himself, where he had always had the equal and opposite sensation before. The same abhorrence at touching himself as he had at the thought of touching Helena now.

“I will master this,” he ordered himself. He couldn’t abandon her; he owed her too much. Even the thought that hecouldleave her, that maybe he wanted to, after everything she did for him, horrified him.

Jerking his own hands away from himself, he opened the glass door of the shower and entered it. Immediately, he leapt back out with a small cry as his still-warm skin was hit by shards of icy wet. Guessing he hadn’t cranked the handle far enough, he reached around the stream to yank it all the way the other direction. Within moments, the water shifted from glacial to pleasantly warm. Sighing, Rafferty stepped into that, letting the gobs and gobs of water flow over his whole being, washing away his thoughts with it.

Maybe it was the absence of active thoughts that allowed something else to take their place. A memory. Standing in a kitchen before the cooking fire with a large bowl filled with heated water and a rough bar of soap, washing himself with a cloth. Everyone he knew did it this way. Only the wealthy nobles would get to surround themselves with water, bathing in tubs that they could sit in, and that was only once or twice a week at most unless they were the king or queen. Ordering up bathwater was time-consuming. If he wanted to bathe more than that, he would have had to go to a stream, and those were often a brisk experience, only pleasant on the hottest of days. He had wondered then what it would feel like to simply let himself soak in so much warm water.

Rafferty didn’t get much of a chance to dwell on the memory as, almost too late, he realized his artificial waterfall had turned into alava-fall.

Another sharp cry escaped him as the shower scalded himout of it.

“Dammit!”he cursed.

“Rafferty? Are you okay?” Helena’s voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.

He panicked. “Yeah, I…” He reached for the handle and tried to turn it back just as Helena opened the door. “No! Don’tcome in!”

Predictably, he slipped. Falling out of the shower, he hissed as his knees banged on the ground, those sensations just as intense as all the others he had been experiencing. In fact, it felt like his knee had exploded, the nerve there shooting electric pain up his leg, overwhelming every other thought and stealing his breath away.

“Oh crap! Are you alright?” she said as she entered the steamed-up room. All he could see from where he had landed on the ground were her ankles as she stepped past him to the shower itself, reaching in to turn it off.

Desperate for some shred of dignity despite everything, he swiped for a towel hanging on a rack bolted to the wall, but he only managed to drape it over himself.Why did I do that?he thought. She had seen him naked before. Not only that, but he never cared aboutbeingnaked.

When he didn’t really have a body.

“I’m an idiot!” he declared as he rolled on his back, not daring to straighten the throbbing knee.

“Are you hurt?” Helena asked, squatting down next to him.

“Only my pride,” he muttered, then winced. “Andmy knee.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Helena said gravely.

He stiffened. “Is it badly damaged?” he asked, unable to keep the fear fromhis voice.

Helena glanced down at him, then she averted her eyes away. Dread flooded through him.

“Does it feel like icy electricity shooting up your leg and snatching your breath away? But now it’s fading into a dull throb?”

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