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“What are you doing?” Alwar roars.
“He needs to eat, too.”
“I will get him Flier meat. Save the human food for you. We need you strong.”
I glance at Master, who’s already drooling.
“You want this, don’t you, boy?” I say.
He whines.
I place the can on the floor and let him have at it.
“Damned human world makes everyone weak,” Alwar grumbles and leaves the room.
Over the next few days, I don’t see Tiago, but I hear he’s outside guarding the keep with Alwar’s army. I’ve learned that the Wall Men are a special group of War People, like Navy SEALs, assigned to the outer wall. Only their leader and best warriors are honored with the title.
Funny. If you’d asked me what a Wall Man is, I would have said murderers, monsters, the stuff of nightmares. Not protectors.
I was wrong.
It breaks my heart to say it, because that means Grandma Rain lied about everything. I believe she had her reasons, but I might never know what they were, aside from trying to insulate me from this world of monsters. Could it be that she simply didn’t want me to die like my mother in the Blood Battle? If it were my child or grandchild facing such a fate, I would probably say or do anything to keep them alive, too.
Gabrio and Alwar talk through the window at least once a day. I ask questions every chance I get. Why were they chained to the wall? Who freed them? Why lie about it? Alwar brushes me off, though I have my theories about the answers.
But during this time, Alwar appears with pitchers of clean water and more food: rabbit stew, biscuits with honey, and even pancakes with butter.
I try not to cry when I eat because I know the butter came from Bard’s fridge, made by his own two hands. I tell myself he would’ve wanted me to enjoy it. Cooking for me and Grandma was one of the few things he truly loved. Sometimes, I’d catch him smiling as we’d moan our way through a meal.
Seriously though, I can’t believe he’s gone, which is probably why I’m eating as much as I can. I need to go home and see his empty house with my own eyes. I need to talk to his nephew, Mike.
So I eat, and I drink water. I ignore how skinny I am, knowing that that every bite I take undoes a bite taken out of me by that monster, Benicio.
What kills me most is how I still think of him. Benicio’s absence is a constant gnawing ache, deep inside my bones, and no amount of food can sate my hunger.
On the fifth night, Alwar comes into the room, holding a piece of cloth the size of a beach towel. “It is time. I cannot bear the stench of you any longer. I have run a bath downstairs in my personal water closet.”
I arch a brow.
He tosses the cloth at me. “Your wounds are healed enough, so do not fight me on this, Lake.”
When have I ever refused a hot bath? But in the spirit of cultural respect, I say, “You’ll have to drag me by the hair if you want me to wash in your disgusting bathtub. I bet you leave monster-truck-sized hairballs in the drain.”
He opens his mouth and narrows his blue eyes. “I do not know what a monster truck is, but you will strip, and you will bathe, or I will force you.”
Now I’m intrigued. “You’re saying you’ll tear off my clothes and personally wash my body? Wow, that’s a very caring thing to do. Takes a big, nurturing man to offer that.” I bob my head appreciatively.
“This is one of your silly games. Go ahead. Keep tormenting me, Lake, and see where that gets you.” His nostrils flare, and his full lips flatten into an angry line.
I try not to laugh. I’m finally getting the hang of monster talk. Their pride is a strength, but also a weakness.
“Okay. Okay.” I hold up my hands. “I’ll let you bathe me. But be gentle, okay? I have delicate skin. Especially around my nipples.”
He narrows his blue eyes. “I did not say I would—I did not offer to…”
I crack up, unable to help myself. This fifty-foot-tall warlord is flustered! “Look at your face! Mr. I-eat-meat-and-kill-things is blushing!”
I’m mid-cackle when Alwar’s hand wraps around my midriff. “You think that’s funny, tiny woman?”
Shit. What’s he doing? Did I push him too far? “Let go, Alwar! I was just fucking around.”
He stomps from the bedroom and carries me down the hall, taking a set of narrow stone stairs. I squirm and push against his fingers, but he’s got me in his grip. Master follows behind us, barking. Call me crazy, but it sounds like my dog is cheering Alwar on.
“This isn’t funny!” I yell. “Put me the fuck down.”
