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Finally, after his blue-tinged skin had acquired a pale, burnished glow, he crawled into bed, beneath the sheets. He wanted to sink deep into the soft mattress and just lie there for a few hundred years.
What a contrast to the spiked pit of hell. Different from the ocean floor as well. He felt like he was lying on a cloud, the bed was so soft and airy. He’d never experienced anything like it before.
That was when three knocks sounded on the door, before Brigid carried a tray of food inside. She settled the tray over his lap as he sat up against the headboard, then quickly moved away. As if she couldn’t put distance between them fast enough.
Sai didn’t blame her. But even so, he was…disappointed…that she didn’t at least hold his hand for a moment or smile into his eyes like she often did.
“I can’t stay,” she said quietly, her apple cheeks rosy red, eyes averted from his person.
He slurped his soup while he waited for her to leave.
And barely held in a groan at the delicious flavor. Some sort of fish. Maybe clams too. It had been so long since he’d taken sustenance for himself. He’d always been force fed in the Master’s prison.
“I’m not even supposed to be here, but…”
He kept his own gaze lowered to the soup and tried not to appear too eager at her hesitance.
Hesitation meant that she wanted to stay, right?
With him.
Perhaps she enjoyed his company, though he couldn’t think why. He didn’t speak much and wasn’t very interesting or witty.
Not like Brigid.
She shone so brightly. Like the sun always rose within her. She could banish the shadows with a simple glance.
Just like the way she enchanted those human children and their caretakers. And the way she bemused him without even trying.
If he possessed his full strength and could transform into dragon, he might be more interesting to her. He’d been told by his ocean friends that he was rather magnificent in serpent form. His scales sparkled even fathoms deep beneath the seas, where no sun, moon or stars could reach. They could luminesce their own brilliance. He looked as if he were made entirely out of diamonds in the liquid darkness.
As he was now, a weaklingman, without the embellishments of fancy clothes, he must be extremelyuninteresting to a woman like Brigid.
It was a good thing he’d already decided to abort his mission. He didn’t know much about human hearts, but sitting abed slurping soup like a sick child likely wasn’t the most conducive way to exhibit his masculine charms.
He didn’t want her to go. But he also didn’t deserve to be in her presence. The demon almost got to her. He almost couldn’t…
His spoon dropped with a clatter onto the tray, his appetite evaporating as he contemplated how close he’d come to failing to protect her. If he had any hope of helping her now, however much time he had left before the Master found a way to force him to return to their realm, he must go to the sea.
The river had carried its scent. As well as the stink of other, more unpleasant things, but the scent of the sea was there. It was close. He needed to submerge himself fully beneath the waves to restore his strength.
A slight catch in her breath drew his eyes to her once more. He’d almost forgotten she was still here. What had she said just now?
I’m not even supposed to be here, but…
But what?
Her gaze flicked briefly, a half second or less, over his form.
“I didn’t want anyone else to see you like this.”
He glanced down at the ordinary human robe, wondering whether she missed the illusion of grandeur that he’d donned before at the ball, and when he came to call upon her earlier in the day.
Those clothes were ruined beyond repair. Not the least because of the blood stains and ragged tears. No one would find them, though. For he’d masked them as servants’ wash rags with the bit of magic he still had at his disposal.
“Why?” he asked.
Because, honestly…why?
