He shot her a thorough side-eye. “I think you knew that’s not how it sounded.”
She grinned. “Yes.”
“Is your closet on the floor?” he asked.
Autumn’s laugh filled the space. “I’ve asked the brownies not to put things away, or I can never find them when I want them.”
A strange sort of logic.
In David’s new room, a bookshelf stuffed with archaic books took up one entire wall. Intriguing. A second wall of windows let in so much light, he squinted against it, glad for the curtains on either side. The four-poster was dressed with cream linens, and an open wardrobe stood opposite, empty of garments.
“We’ll get you some. You’ll look out of place in”—she pinched the sleeve of his dirty T-shirt—“mortal clothes.”
His attention drifted to her dress—crimson with an overlay of…pure light? The skirt ended mid-thigh and black leather boots wrapped her leg to the knee. Her hair wasn’t human red. It reminded him of shimmer-dusted roses.
This place was a trip.
“Sean and Bel sleep on the other side of the suite, and our washroom is over there.” She pointed to another door.
He leaned against the doorframe, torn between relief from being rid of his father and discomfort with the idea of sleeping in the vicinity of two strange women and a man he hated.
“There’s a lock on your door,” she said.
Before he could comment, she stepped closer. Her warm fingers shifted the hair resting over his scar, and he wanted to retreat, but excitement sparkled in her inhumanly gold eyes, radiated from her body. She cupped his cheek, flooding warm happiness through him.
An image of red hair, gilded by sunlight flashed through his mind. A sunny smile just like hers.
“I shall always be stronger, Galadaine! Admit it.”
“I will eclipse you someday, Rhiannon, dear. I am patient.”
“I’ve dreamed of you for years.” Autumn’s voice turned dreamy. “Butseeingyou, the image of Galadaine Manae, is nothing like a dream.”
Taken aback, David pulled away from her. “Were they dreams or nightmares?”
She shook her head, smile wilting. “You were like my brother. A lifetime ago.”
“Was I?”
Her gaze turned wistful, as did the kaleidoscope of happiness inside her. “You don’t remember?”
“I would save you, Galadaine, but you are too far down this path. I cannot follow.”
“I need no saving. Save yourself, Rhi, before it all collapses. And if the opportunity appears, you kill me.”
“I will not.”
“Not really,” David said, afraid to explore that memory any further. “But I think I’m remembering bits.”
Autumn nodded. “It’ll come. Why don’t you bathe, and I’ll find you something to wear?”
The shower flowed just like the waterfalls in the living areas—originating from…nowhere? Were there pipes? How the hell?—
David shook himself.
Mystery for another day. He had too many questions to care where the water came from.
After the dirt and sweat from his flight through the mist had drained away, he dressed in the clothes Autumn provided him—a cotton tunic and pants—and let her drag him into the open.
