Page 34 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

She spread a layer of plastic on top of her sheets. “Lie down, please.”

He eased back with a wince, as another spike of pain in his side made her wince with him.

She handed him the vodka. “You’re going to need this.”

“I’ll need to bite down on something, then.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t scream your house down like that Black Cloak did.” He took a deep gulp straight from the bottle.

She poked around in her dresser drawers and spotted her leather belts. Grabbing a few, she held them up to him. “Pick one.”

He pointed with the lidless vodka bottle. “It’ll take the black.”

“Because it so suits the black leather pants.” She giggled. She had to as this was all too much. Even his frown lightened a little as he folded the leather belt, then tested it by biting down, with his hands fisting the ends.

It was her turn with the vodka bottle; taking a deep mouthful, she held it out to him. “You want another hit before I begin?”

He didn’t say anything as he removed the belt and took the bottle. His eyes never left hers as he took deep mouthfuls.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?”

“Because I think this will hurt. We both saw what it did to that Black Cloak.”

“You don’t need to do this.”

“Yeah, I do. I don’t know how or why, but I can smell evil coming from the wound.” A wound that didn’t just look like a knife cut, but more like black acid burning away at his flesh. “The stench is giving me a headache.” Hoping she didn’t faint from the sight either, but she needed to do this for him. “I don’t want that in my house. And I know it’s hurting you too. So…” Angela dipped the cloth into the salty water, bracing herself for the pain to come. “I’m truly sorry if this hurts.”

“I believe you.” His eyes locked with hers, enough to make her pause at their hypnotic power; he truly was beautiful, like the gods had missed one of their own.

Until a single droplet fell from the cloth and touched his wound, and steam hissed.

Zarek’s body went rigid. A muffled cry tore from him as he bit down on the leather belt.

She quickly wiped it away, only to pull back.

“Keep going,” he forced out through gritted teeth. “It’s working.”

So, she did. She didn’t stop wiping and cleansing, all while sobbing her many sorrys as the blackness sizzled away, the smell lifted, and the poison retreated.

Thankfully, he’d passed out, so Angela kept going until it was clean. She applied the bandage, cleaned the blood from his leathers, then salted and burned the cloths and Zarek’s undershirt in her barbecue until they were ash.

It was late when she finally stumbled into the shower and scrubbed herself clean, allowing the hot water to wash away his blood and the last of that vile scent from her skin.

By the time she turned the tap off, exhaustion sat heavy in her bones. She dried, dressed in one of her soft, loose dresses, and padded back down the hallway with bare feet, too tired to think logically.

In her bedroom, Zarek was asleep on her bed. The harsh lines of pain had eased from his face, his chest rising and falling in a deep, steady rhythm.

Without the armor or weapons that seemed to burden him, he looked younger somehow. Less like a weapon and more like a man.

Careful not to wake him, she removed his heavy boots, easing them off his feet and setting them neatly by the bed where his knife sheaths lay one by one.

She could remove the leather pants…

Instead, she took him in without him disappearing on her.