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“I’m fi—”
“You’re not. If you think you have any chance of keeping up with me tomorrow”—I forced her chin higher—”you need to get your strength back.”
She rolled her lips together, knowing I was right.
“Come on.” I wrapped my arm around her, slowly helping her to her feet. A cry squeaked out before she bit down on her lip.
I adjusted my hold on her body, helping her to walk out. My mouth pressed against her head, trying to tease her. “You’re as fragile as a human right now.”
“Shut up.” She smacked my arm, which only made her flinch more in agony.
“We can’t afford not to take his offer.” My mouth moved closer to her ear. “But don’t let your guard down. Okay?”
She nodded against me.
I couldn’t feel any ill will toward us, but with her, I wasn’t willing to trust anyone.
Not when the border patrol was out hunting us, and I had a price on my head.
When we entered the one-story house, smells of garlic, chicken, and onions cooking in a warm, creamy broth crawled down my throat, strangling my stomach with hunger. My mouth watered, but deep down, I knew the food wouldn’t satisfy my appetite. My body was starting to crave something no food or drink could satisfy, causing my muscles to twitch.
“Dragostea mea?” My love.The man rambled deeper into the small house, the floors creaking under his weight. My head skimmed the low beams as I stepped inside with Scarlet, giving me a better view of the simple home. A kitchen lined the far wall, hutches and cupboards crammed in on the other two walls. A table and chairs sat in the middle, leaving a little space by the door for a sofa and two chairs across from a fireplace, which had several pots cooking in it. Colorful handwoven rugs and tapestries draped the walls and lined the floor to insulate the interior, creating a cozy vibe.
“Sotia?”Wife.
A stout woman stood in the kitchen, slicing into steaming warm bread. Her short black hair was pulled away from her face with a headscarf, some gray hair poking out, letting me know she was human and aging rapidly compared to her husband.
Fae could definitely get old enough to get gray hair, but they would be so ancient that magic would plow through your senses and dissolve any doubt they were old.
“We have some guests.” The man motioned for us to come further in.
The woman twisted to face us. Wariness straightened her, trepidation in her gaze quickly disappearing when she saw Scarlet holding on to me, barely able to stand.
“Oh!” She wiped her hands on her long skirt.“Te rog intra!” Please come in. She waved us in while she moved for my companion, her gaze latching onto Scarlet’s face. She went still, her eyes widening in a perplexed reverence. Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes going even bigger, like some deity had entered.
“Anca.” The man said her name, jolting her from her stare.
“Oh. So sorry. You remind me of someone…” she babbled, swishing her hand. She spoke to Scarlet in English, though it was noticeable it was not as natural for her as it was her husband. “Oh, dear, you look frozen to death.” She noticed the way Scarlet was holding her ribs. “Are you hurt?”
“Cracked rib.” I spoke for her, knowing small talk would take even more energy from Scarlet. She was fighting goblin metal while being half-starved and frozen. She had watched a friend get murdered, was beaten up, burned up, almost kidnapped and killed—all in less than three days since meeting me.
“Oh no. Please sit down.” She gestured to a chair at the table, then rushed for the cramped kitchen, pulling out a glass and bottle from the hatch. “We do not have medicine, but hopefully this will help, my dear.” She poured the plum brandy for Scarlet, making my mouth water.
Lowering onto the chair, Scarlet winced, her nails digging into my arms.
“Thank you, ma’am.” I nodded to the woman as she handed the cup to Scarlet.
“Anca.” She pointed at herself. “My husband is Vasile.” She nodded to where he stood at the end of the table.
“We are so grateful for your hospitality.” I rubbed Scarlet’s hands around the mug, trying to warm them up. “But it is better you do not know our names.” Standing up fully, I looked into Anca’s dark eyes. “I swear, we mean you no harm.”
Anca’s lips pinched together, and she dipped her head in understanding, as if this was not the first time they catered to lawbreakers hiding in their barn. “You both must be starving.” She went to the fireplace, grabbing a potholder to get the soup out of the flames.
Almost twenty-two years since the fae war, and this part of the world still functioned without the simple modern conveniences the West had re-adapted to.
Vasile strolled to the table, grabbing the bottle oftuica andpouring himself and me a glass.
My head bowed in gratitude, and I downed the brandy, barely tasting the hints of vanilla and citrus hitting the back of my throat. It wasn’t until I swallowed it down, my muscles easing, that I realized how tense I was. How frantic I was to take the edge off, no matter how it came. The taste of liquor only intensified what I really wanted, the sweet alcohol a poor substitute.
