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I start to laugh at the sight and choke more on peanuts. A metal cup is thrust under my nose and I recognize the smell of it. Mangrove root tea. It’s a good antiseptic. I’m surprised he’d know that until I remember…he was a Beta too, once.
I drink the tea down, coughing a little when I take in a root on accident. I spit it back into the cup, which the Berserker takes and refills. He brings it back, root-free this time, and as I sip at its dirt and sort of spicy tang more gingerly this time, he watches me. I don’t look up, but I can feel it.
“What?”
“Finished up with the deer. Wanted to give you this.” Against the size of his palm, the dagger he holds looks normal-sized. It’s got a sharp-looking blade, too, but I still don’t understand.
“What?”I tilt my head and push the bushel of my hair back over my shoulder.
“For you. Take it.”
I’m deeply uncomfortable as I stare at the knife and its blackened handle and its even darker blade. It’s just a straight shot of knife, no crossbar or whatever that thing is that separates the hilt from the sharp part. It’s not a quality dagger for sure and it’s too big for me, but I still feel like a rich city Alpha who’s just been offered her choice of fine jewelry.
“Don’t want it?” I glance at his face. I shouldn’t’ve. The light refracts off of the strands of his hair, illuminating their bloody tips. I want to run my fingers through those locks. I want to stroke my hands down his chest. I want him to force my head down and pop my hips up, kneel down behind me and…
“I…” I look between his hand and his face and scoot back. It…doesn’t seem to piss him off as much as it did a week ago, or even yesterday. In fact, the corner of his mouth twitches, like he might want to say somethingnotmean to me…and then he just has to go and friggin’ say it.
“Merlin showed me the oils you traded her when you were in Trash City before and told me about the skins she let you keep. Based on what she said, my bet is that you’re better at this than me.” He cocks his chin back toward the fire and the deer he attempted to skin laid out beside it. “Should do the next one for us, after you get back the use of both hands.”
My stomach does this tightening thing that I don’t like and my left eye twitches. I rub it, crossing my right arm over my chest to be able to reach it. I’m hoping the whole display and the time it takes me to make such insignificant gestures will exasperate him and he’ll give up waiting for an answer…but he doesn’t.
He just kneels there holding the knife out to me like he really expects me to take it. I fiddle with the strap of the pack resting in front of my crossed legs and ignore the way they clench, remembering how they clenched around him in the dark, begging him to stay. So fucking humiliating. Makes me want to cry. Why do I always want to cry around Adam? The pain in my injured arm is still constant and making my head hurt. Maybe that’s why I want to cry. Maybe that’s why I can’t figure out his game, or what changed between us last night. He hates me, wants to use me, disgusts me, repulses me…
But he was a Beta too, once.
“Saw you watchin’ me skin the deer just now. Know you know it’s true.”
“What’s the catch?”
He makes this rumbling sound in his chest that somehow manages to have intonation. Last night it turned me on, but now it makes me ravenous with the urge to please him. He’s displeased with me now, somehow, by what I’ve said. “No catch, Echo.”
Echo. Echo and Adam. I open my mouth to tell him to call me something else, but I…change my mind. “Hm.”
I extend my hand toward it slowly and, just as I reach it, he pulls it slightly out of my grasp. “You’re right. There is a catch.”
I knew it. I purse my lips and wait.
“Use it to gut me if you want, but don’t turn the pointy end on yourself.” He places the hilt in my open hand and his eyes flash. “Please.”
Please. That single word terrifies me and my whole face melts with heat and emotion. I grab the knife and quickly shove it in the oversized, overstuffed backpack, making sure to memorize its position in case I need it on short notice.
Feeling like I need to do something with my now empty hand, especially with him staring at it, I bring it up to my hair and try to…I don’t know, pat it in place.
His lips twitch again, this time on both sides. “When we get back to Dark City, think you’ll be needin’ a comb, first thing.”
Shock. He’s insulting me. I open my mouth to retaliate until I register the laughter in his eyes. I can see it in the way their corners crinkle. My throat tightens unexpectedly and I have a hard time maintaining eye contact. The heat in my face flares down my neck and chest and makes my tits feel heavier than they were a moment ago. I look anywhere else — up, at his hair!
“You too.” My voice is blocky and hard, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Because as soon as the words are out, the worst thing ever happens. Hesmiles. Not wide enough to show all of his teeth, but wide enough for me to see that they’re white and straight and square except for the canines, which are a little longer than the rest and sharpened to deadly points. But I know how fast that grin can transform to a mouthful of knives, ready to bite.But he thought it was a bond.It doesn’t matter.Maybe it does.
I look away, knowing that if I stare for too much longer, the strength of my determination that keeps me from crying or gutting him or turning around, stripping and presenting will be denuded to dust. His smile is…I swallow…nice. Yeah, nice.
“Probably right about that. Could use a shave, too.” He scratches his mangy beard.
I snort, “Yeah.”
“And a new pair of pants.” He stretches his right knee up, and another seam pops free along the outer leg.
This timemymouth is the one to twitch. I pivot away from him, unsure whether to keep sitting there or just…I don’t know what. Make conversation? “You were lucky they had any pants at all,” I offer and I realize as I say it that it’s the longest sentence I’ve ever said to him that wasn’t shouted, screamed or sobbed.
