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“It’s squishy.” I scrunch up my nose. “What is that?”
“It’s kind of like a fruit,” he explains, offering it to me. “It should make you feel better.”
I take it reluctantly and roll it between my fingers. “Should?”
He nods. “Eat first. Then I’ll explain.”
With a groan, I roll my eyes and sink my teeth into the fruit, more eager for an explanation than any relief this squishy morsel might offer. It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted—somewhere between a Fruit Roll-Up and a gym sock—but I chew quickly and swallow as fast as possible.
“All right,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him. “Now tell me.”
“That was a frex fruit,” he says, offering a hand to help me stand. “Pretty rare in this part of the monster realm, but Rafe has a small plant he keeps hidden for emergencies. They have strong healing properties for monsters but are rumored to be poisonous for humans.”
“Poisonous?” I jerk my hand out of his and stumble back onto the bed. “Are you trying to kill me? I told you I’m a human.Justa human.”
“I don’t think you are,” he says, offering me his hand again. “You survived the portal trip, and you are healing faster than any human could. Look at your arm.”
Reluctantly, I tear my gaze away from his and observe my injured arm. Two strips of fresh pink skin run the length of my forearm—they’re all that remains of the wound I got from the red monster that attacked me. An injury like that would normally take me weeks to recuperate from, but here it is only sixteen hours later, and my arm is almost healed completely.
I run my fingertips along the lines to test them. No pain. Barely any tenderness.
“I don’t understand.” The words come out in a whisper.
“Monsters heal quickly in this realm. I don’t know what you are, but there’s something in your blood that belongs here.”
A knock at the door makes me jump, and I half-heartedly make an attempt to cover my chest before Elio slips into the room. His eyes lock on me, and heat gathers in my cheeks again.
“Oh,” he says, his gaze tracing my exposed skin. “Sorry if I’m interrupting.”
Az steps between us, blocking me from Elio’s line of sight. “Not interrupting. Devyn was just about to take a shower.”
“Right. Rafe expects us downstairs in an hour to deal withthis.”
By this, I’m assuming he means me.
Azarius nods once. “Thanks.”
After lingering in the doorway for another second, Elio turns and disappears, tugging the door closed behind him. Az turns to face me, his expression harder than it was moments ago, and he jerks his head toward a gaping doorway in the corner of the room.
“We’d better hurry,” he says. “Rafe doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
By the time I get to my feet and make it across the room, I can feel the energy from the frex fruit coursing through my veins, replacing the weakness that’d been swallowing me since I woke up. I feel almost normal, except for a sinking feeling in my stomach at the thought of meeting Rafe shortly and the tingling of an existential crisis plaguing my brain. If Az is right and Iampart monster, what does that mean about my life?
I don’t have much time to consider which one of my parents might be at fault before I’m stumbling into the navy-and-silver-themed bathroom, and Azarius is showing me how to work the shower knobs. Surprisingly, it’s a lot like showers back home but with a few more levers and knobs for soaps and water functions.
“Whatever you do, don’t press this one,” he says, pointing to a black button under the shower head. “Unless you want to feel like you’ve been run through a cheese grater.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks.”
Even though I want nothing more than to relax under the spray of hot water until I melt to the floor or use up all of the warmth—if monsters have inventions like hot water heaters—I hurriedly scrub my body and step out onto the plush bath rug. If Rafe is as bad as Azarius and Elio make him out to be, I don’t want to piss him off by being late.
There is a neatly folded stack of clothes waiting for me on the end of the marble counter, but one look at them tells me they’re far from my size. I hold the pants up to my waist and groan when the ends roll past my feet.
I wish I had my damn jeans.
Whoever they stole these clothes from is huge. I look like a child wearing her mother’s clothes when I’m finally dressed, and I have to roll the pants several times to be able to walk. The shirt is a lost cause, and the collar sags between my breasts.
What an unattractive way to meet Rafe.
