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~9~
The bathwater wasalmosttoohot, but Nic submerged herself anyway, beyond grateful for the sting of clean water in her myriad scrapes, the heat an anodyne to the scrapes, forming bruises, and persistent chill in her bones. She wanted to scrub herself clean of the hunters’ foul touch. She hadn’t been all that afraid. Gabriel was right there, and he’d defended her ably. The encounter hadn’t been anything like last time. But it had been enough to make her shaky.
She also really didn’t like that they’d both been so depleted of magic. They’d won, but the margin had been far too narrow.
Fully underwater, she scrubbed at her scalp with numb fingertips, grimacing at the scrape of grit in her hair interspersed with the occasional bit of unnamable slime. Some of it hunter blood. Ugh. With a sigh, she searched for something to wash her hair with, then realized she’d left her fancy Aratron soaps across the room. Reluctantly levering herself out of the tub, she padded naked and dripping across the bathing chamber, scooped it all up and—shivering in the chill, damp air—ran back to the tub, tossing the vials and bottles on the floor. About to hop back into the water, she caught a reflection in one of the age-spotted mirrors and screamed.
The other woman screamed, too, wrapping her arms around herself and looking about frantically, like a wild animal caught in a trap, her cries escalating in pitch and volume.
“Seliah!” Nic overcame the shock—still on edge from the hunter attack, she’d nearly peed on the floor from the fright—and managed to make her voice loud, calm, and commanding enough to pierce Seliah’s ongoing wail of dismay. Gabriel’s sister slammed her mouth shut, the sound cutting off abruptly, and she stared at Nic with feral eyes that held little human intelligence. “Seliah,” Nic said again, soothingly, holding out her hands. “It’s all right. You gave me a start is all.”
Seliah stared at her with no hint of comprehension.
“Remember me?” Nic asked, doubting it heartily. “Lady Veronica Elal, Gabriel’s… wife. You can call me Nic.”
“I know,” Seliah said, straightening from her crouch, sanity returning to her amber-brown eyes. They were the same color as their mother’s, and Nic wondered if Gabriel’s eyes had been that color before the magic turned them wizard black. Seliah tossed her head, looking Nic up and down. “I came here because I wanted to see you.”
Nic gestured to her nakedness. “And now you’ve seen me, all of me.”
Seliah, to Nic’s great surprise, giggled. “You’re—”
“Nic!” Gabriel roared, charging into the bathing chamber, sword drawn, barely skidding to a stop on the water-puddled tiles. Oops. Probably she should’ve tossed down some towels. “Selly!” Gabriel gasped in astonishment.
“She came to visit me,” Nic told him, infusing her tone with all the cautions she wanted to offer but felt she couldn’t say aloud. “Isn’t that sweet of her?”
Gabriel didn’t look like he thought it was sweet. He looked too pissed for that. With his silver hair mud-matted, slicked and tangled around his face, his wizard-black eyes glittering with determination to protect her, muscles flexing with battle fervor, he appealed to her basest instincts. Though that could be the residual need from what they’d started and now wouldn’t be finishing anytime soon. Alas for that. At least the delayed gratification was good for recharging the magic.
He lowered his sword, a resigned line to his shoulders. “Selly,” Gabriel said, giving his sister a once-over. She wasn’t any cleaner than they were, though she was better dressed for it. Her pants and shirt were stained with mud and other evidence of days spent in the marshes. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Seliah set her jaw obstinately, very like her brother would. “I didn’t want to be found.”
Gabriel sighed, holding out his hands by his side. “I’m very glad you found us, then,” he said gently. “Are you hungry?”
She jerked her chin in a nod, eyes drifting back to Nic.
“I’ll just finish my bath,” Nic suggested, cold enough to hop into the water without further hesitation. It warmed up a bit more, and she gave Gabriel a grateful smile. Ducking her head to wet it, she began working the shampoo through her hair.
“I sent up a flag for lunch,” Gabriel said, gesturing Seliah out of the room. “Why don’t we wait for the food out here, give Nic some privacy.”
“Why is she here?” Seliah demanded, not budging. “I don’t want her here, in my house.”
Gabriel set his teeth. “It’s our house, and it’s Nic’s now, too. I explained this to you.”
Seliah slid Nic a look of distaste. The girl looked far younger than her twenty-four years, all long legs, knees, and elbows like an adolescent, her skin ravaged by acne, both active and old scars. Her childlike reactions only compounded the impression. She was all out of balance—physically, emotionally, and mentally. The Refoel healer should be able to assist there too.
Though a Refoel wizard would immediately recognize Seliah as an untapped familiar, and Gabriel wasn’t prepared to deal with that. They needed to cement the wizard’s loyalty first, and she didn’t know how they’d accomplish that. It really depended on who answered the call, but House Phel wasn’t exactly ready to lay out the charm. They didn’t even have a dry room to offer. She’d really been hoping they could raise the entire house today and have the water wicked out of a few rooms, then at least minimally furnished by tomorrow.
Things weren’t looking good for that, but at least she wasn’t wearing an iron collar and being marched off by hunters. All things in perspective.
“I don’t remember you explaininganything!” Seliah whined like an even younger child. Was the bouncing about in mental age a side effect of the untapped magic? It must be. Unless the woman had another underlying mental condition. Hadn’t there been rumors of madness in House Phel? More so than the standard runaway hubris and megalomaniacal tendencies of most wizards. She and Maman had dismissed those sketchy details as unimportant, but now she wished she’d paid more attention.
“Selly.” Gabriel took his sister’s arm, not ungently, but black frustration oozed off of him. Taking note of Gabriel’s fraying patience, Nic ran some conditioning oil through her hair, using it to detangle the last of the snarls.
“Let go of me!” Seliah shrieked, tugging away from her brother. “Youstink.”
“Gabriel,” Nic inserted before he could say anything more. So much for her plans of soaking in the tub and perhaps cavorting with her wizard. Rinsing her hair one last time, she stood again, stepped out of the tub, and grabbed a towel, wrapping herself in it. At least she was clean now. “I’ll keep Seliah company while you bathe.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she laid a finger over his lips, then kissed him. “You need a moment, and you’ll feel better for it. Did you say you ordered lunch?”
“I—yes.” He frowned. “It’s midafternoon, and you said you were hungry.”
