Page 66 of The Last Slayer
Her eyes were on my body. “Whatever for?”
“I prefer not to get naked in front of strangers.”
“Oh please. Mortals can be such prudes. I thought a visit to your slayer mother might help you in that regard, but—” she sighed, “—I suppose not.”
Still, she complied. Thank god. I’m actually not particularly prudish, but something about Nahemah creeped me out. When I bent down, Leh’s chain swung free from the folds of my dirty dress. I grabbed it quickly, pressing it against my chest and glancing in Nahemah’s direction. Fortunately she wasn’t looking my way. I also pulled India’s heartstone from my old dress and I shoved it inside a small pocket in the front of the new one as I changed. It might come in handy later. I noted that Nahemah had chosen a shade of purple that didn’t flatter my coloring or complexion. And the thing was way too tight around my chest. At least it created some cleavage.
“So…are Nathanael and Leh still in love?” Nahemah stared off in the direction the moon had set. “You saw them together, didn’t you?”
Our bargain didn’t include my giving her information. “They didn’t discuss their feelings for each other with me. Nathanael was a little too busy trying to slice my head off.”
“Of course, how inconsiderate of me. That must have been traumatizing.” Nahemah’s voice grew thoughtful. “To be honest, I’d be surprised if they themselves know. It’s so very difficult keeping track of one’s involvements when one is immortal. It’s not as though Leh was a virgin when she met Nathanael. There are…so many demigods in her past. And can you blame her?” Nahemah turned back to me, an eye on how the dress fit over my body. “I’ve done the same myself. The adoration, the initial heat of attraction. So intoxicating. Sometimes enough to make vows of undying devotion. Silly, really, when one lives forever.”
“Uh-huh.” Why she was telling me all this? Didn’t she have anything better to do than gossip about my mother’s sexual history?
Since I refused to rise to her bait, we walked to the lyceum in silence. Anticipation bubbled inside Nahemah so keenly it practically hummed in the air. I owed her dinner—correction, my presence at dinner—but surely she wasn’t that excited about eating with me.
Nahemah smiled when we saw Ramiel. He sat in the same thronelike chair he’d occupied when we first arrived. His back was bent, and he was holding his head in his big hands. It struck me how alone and tired he looked in the Lunar Garden. Centuries of duties and obligations seemed to weigh on his broad shoulders, oddly like Nathanael. I didn’t know what was going through his mind as he sat there. Maybe he was thinking about Leh, Kyran, the bloody history between them, and his probably unwelcome role as my protector. It had to be a complicated story. Otherwise a dragonlord would never owe anything to a slayer.
He glanced up at our approach, and all the color drained from his face. His eyes widened, his jaw dropping. He rose to his feet and actually swayed.
“Are you okay?” I rushed to his side to catch him just in case he fell. I wasn’t sure if demigods could faint, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Leh, how…how did you…?” His voice was hollow and raspy, like he was having trouble getting the words out. His fingers dug into my arms painfully. When I winced, he let go immediately and rubbed my bruised flesh.
“What are you talking about? I’m not—” Suspicion whipped my heart until it thudded fast and hard as a racing horse’s hooves. I glanced at Nahemah. “What have you done to him?”
She laughed in sheer delight. “Nothing.”
Yeah, right.
Oblivious to his surroundings, Ramiel put his hands on each side of my face. This time his touch was gentle. “Leh. I haven’t failed after all…?”
I shook my head free. “It’s Ashera. How much wine did you drink?”
He pulled back a little, a frown creating deep lines between his eyebrows, and examined my face. “Ashera? But…how? I—”
Nahemah let out another peal. I barely suppressed the urge to grind my teeth. I don’t like being the butt of jokes I don’t understand.
Wordlessly, Ramiel drew his sword and let me examine my reflection in the blade.
Soft sleek blond hair. Perfect cheekbones. Flawless alabaster skin.
I raised my suddenly nerveless hand to touch my cheek. The image in Ramiel’s blade copied my motion. It was Leh, except for the eyes. They were tinged with a violet sheen from the dress, but they were still my own.
“Leh was quite the clever girl. If she hadn’t disguised you, the Triumvirate of Madainsair would’ve found you much sooner. The heartstone must’ve broken the spell.” Nahemah wiped tears from her eyes. “Ahh…I always regarded her as just an unschooled slayer, but I could’ve learned a trick or two,” she said. “So you see? You’re not the ugly duckling you thought you were. You’re a demigoddess and look the part, just like all of us. No wonder Ramiel’s staring at you like a love-struck fool. Of course,” she continued conspiratorially, “it would’ve been more interesting if you’d just strung him along. Seen how long it took before he realized that you weren’t your mother.”
She beamed at me, her good humor actually reaching her eyes. I wanted to deny the truth of her words, but I couldn’t. His reaction to my new appearance was obvious, and it stung.
Okay. It hurt like hell.
When you’re ugly all your life and finally find a man who seems to like you, you hope that perhaps he likes you just the way you are. I know the world doesn’t always work that way. And I’m honest enough to admit that I’ve turned guys down because they didn’t physically attract me. But what Ramiel and I had was different—or so I had thought. I’d believed, given our interactions so far, that he liked what he saw, appreciated my skills and brain, beauty or no beauty.
But like I said, I’m honest. Especially with myself. He’d never looked at me the way he did now. Worse, his reaction hinted that perhaps he’d had feelings for my mother. Maybe he still did. Nahemah’s words came back to taunt me.
Enough to make vows of undying devotion.
I turned away from Ramiel. I wasn’t making a scene in front of Nahemah. “When’s dinner?”
