Page 164 of Nine-Tenths

"Ahorse?" I splutter, curled up with Dav on one of the club chairs by his desk, bare-ass naked and covered in sweat. His thumb sweeps back and forth over the five round scars on my bicep. "You said Charlotte was a fairy, and you think I'm ahorse?"

"A kelpie!" Dav defends. "Long legs and graceful dark lines."

"That drowns people!"

"You did take my breath away the first time I came into the café and—"

"Shut up, oh my god, youloser."

It devolves into a tickle fight. I pinch the flesh above his knee playfully and he flinches, so I smooth my hand over the hurt. "Sorry."

"No, I… it's alright, if you want to."

I cup his chin and turn his face to mine. "Do you not like it? I'm only doing it to tease."

"I know, so it's fine—"

"Nuh-uh, answer the question. Do youlikeit?"

He flinches again. "Not particularly, no. I had a governess who pinched."

"Ugh, governesses," I say theatrically, so it’s clear that I'm making fun of the pretentiousness, not him. "Alright. No more pinching. If there's anything else you don't like, you'll tell me, right?"

He nods, and turns his head to press a kiss into my palm.

My sweet dozy boy. Sex always tuckers him out.

"Don't let your parents hire that same governess for your… eggling? Clutchmate?"

Dav snickers. "Sibling will do. And there's no worry on that score. That governess was human and long dead."

"Good. Serves her right." Fuck not speaking ill of the dead. Assholes are assholes, no matter their state of being.

We're quiet for a moment, and then Dav lifts my wrist to his mouth for a kiss, giving away exactly what he's thinking about.

"Why would he do it? Touch me like that?" I ask. "After what happened with Charlotte?"

Dav stiffens under me, and I don't mean in a sexy way.

Yeah, I think this conversation requires underwear. I slide off his lap to go in search of mine. His is folded neatly on the desk, of course. Mine are hanging from a lamp.

When we're decent-ish, I scoot the second chair around so we're face to face, and put my hands on his knees, comforting and serious. "Despite what's probably running through your squirrelly head right now," I tell him. "Istillthink it was an accident. You were trying to protect her."

"No. I wouldn't let anyone help and she died as a result."

"Be honest with me. How bad was it? The hit she took?"

"… very bad."

"Would she have survived it otherwise? In nineteen twenty-whatever it was, if you'd gotten her to a hospital in time, would she have lived?"

He stares a hole into the carpet, clenches his jaw. "Not likely."

"And if Onatah hadn't caught her, and she fell into the river, would she have lived?"

"… no."

"So she would have died either way." I feel like the most callous bitch alive, watching the agony play out on his face.

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