Page 69 of Love, Nemesis
Cal moved to go outside, and Jasper followed as he exchanged glances with Ana.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, nodding once as Jasper stepped out.
Ana walked uneasily into the kitchen. She washed her hands with a damp cloth before grabbing a pot from the wall and filling it with water.
With great tact, Ares peeled and chopped the potatoes. Ana eyed the clock tattoo on his trigger finger. All hands of the clock were filled in, signifying him as the First Hour.
She scanned the cabin as she slowly poured the water from a bucket into the pot.
“This was a home for me before it was a hideout,” Ares said without looking at her. “A place for my thoughts, like that secret cabin you have out near Satellite.” He spoke as though they were old friends catching up. It was his current mode of operating. Ana quickly remembered what it was like to interact with Ares.
She turned her eyes from the rest of the house, realizing the water was running over.
“Now you’re just showing off,” she said, trying to sound casual and earning a subtle smile from him. She certainly wished her cabin was still a secret, a secret Hailey had never set foot in.
Ana pulled back her sleeves, grabbing several vegetables on the counter and washing them in the bucket, the pot now set to the side.
“Tell me about your painting,” Ares said.
“I haven’t painted in years,” she said, feeling suddenly embarrassed.
“I started several months ago.”
“I’m sure you’ve already mastered it.” She picked up several tomatoes and started to clean them before setting them aside near Ares. The tension was palpable for her, though she knew Ares couldn’t sense it. She tried to recall their long exchange again in the bell tower. What did she remember about him?
“Do you still sculpt?” she asked.
“I lost interest,” Ares replied. “But painting and drawing…they have been my constant companions these past weeks. I tried to recreate a painting you did years ago. It’s a scene with so many different blues. It’s like looking right into a vibrant sky. What did you call it?”
She thought through her paintings first, quickly followed by how he could have ever seen them. She’d given up painting ever since her accident.
“Setting Sail,” she said, remembering the one he referenced. It had never been her favorite.
“Setting Sail,” Ares whispered. “It filled me with some kind of longing, like I could have a piece of space and freedom and life and keep it all to myself. That’s art. You have a gift.”
“Thank you,” Ana replied, and she listened to his knife sliding through the potatoes until Jasper returned inside and set the herbs on the counter. As he did, he made eye contact with Ana, who nodded in affirmation that she was fine.
“You can relax,” Ares said. “Ana knows I will not hurt her.”
Not quite, but she was pleased to hear it.
“Jasper, you need to be less preoccupied with her,” Ares said, taking the herbs and positioning them before slicing through them in bunches. “You aren’t doing her or yourself any favors.”
Jasper looked stunned. He looked back at Ana. Her lips pursed as she shrugged at him.
He walked off, clearly sorting through the statement.
“Was I off-color?” Ares asked as Jasper walked away, a statement she’d heard him say a multitude of times in the bell tower when he thought he’d said something he wasn’t sure the average man or woman would.
“Not quite,” she said, facing the counter. “But I wouldn’t say it again.”
“Understood. Take this. Crush it.” He pushed a pestle and mortar toward her with a mix of herbs and what smelled like garlic.
She started to crush it.
“Interesting group you have here.” Ares continued to work the knife, the blade always seeming to come dangerously close to his fingers. He didn’t slow down at all as he talked.
Ana couldn’t help but be wary of the blade. It was a combat knife, not a kitchen knife, after all.
