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“But-”
“I’ll take the couch,” he repeated. “It would be better if I stay down here, closer to the door, in case anyone else arrives. The Strategoi might already know of your existence.”
That was all I needed to hear. Put me in the bedroom. Put me as far from the front door as possible. I nodded my agreement. “Okay. Thanks.”
I followed him upstairs and down a long hall.
“Here we are.” He opened a door and motioned for me to enter.
I stepped into the room and looked around. A large four poster bed took up most of the space, covered in a dark blue comforter that matched the floor to ceiling curtains covering the far wall. The bedding and curtains looked new, but the furniture looked like antiques. Against the wall next to the door was a small dresser with an old, oval mirror hanging above it.
“The bathroom is through there, if you want to get washed up.” He pointed to a door to the left. “There’s no hot water, but the cold won't bother you now. You can borrow something of mine if you want to change your clothes.” He waved a hand towards the dresser. “They obviously won’t fit well, but they’ll be clean.”
“Thanks,” I murmured. We stood there a moment, looking at each other. Then he nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
I don’t know how long I stood there. It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour. Eventually a noise roused me from my stupor. It was a soft ticking sound. I turned my head towards it. An old-fashioned pocket watch lay on the dresser. I walked over to look at it, and when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, my eyes widened and my jaw dropped.
My hair was a snarly mess, with bits of grass stuck in it. My mouth, chin and neck were covered with dried blood, and my shirt was stained with it.
I turned and ran to the bathroom. I saw the clawfoot tub and turned on the water, not bothering to plug it. I tore off my clothes and jumped into the tub. I sat on my knees and leaned forward, splashing myself with water. It ran off me in dark rivulets, turning the bottom of the tub reddish brown. A sob escaped me and I leaned over and stuck my head under the water. I scrubbed my hair, then my body, not bothering to look for soap. I scrubbed until the water ran clear, then I tucked my knees up under my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs.
I sat like that for a while, letting the water continue to run. I became lost in thought, remembering all that had happened to me in the last two days. When I thought about Allie, I began to cry.
Tears ran down my cheeks, and I felt one splash on my knee. I looked down at it and saw that it was red. Confused, I rubbed it away with my fingertip and stretched my legs out in front of me. Another red drop fell, landing on my thigh. I wiped at the tears on my cheeks and looked at my hands. They were covered in blood.I was crying blood!The realization only made me cry harder, and soon I was scrubbing myself down again.
I eventually cried myself out, washed myself one last time, and turned off the water. I stood up and grabbed a folded towel off the nearby shelf. I wrapped it around me and stared down at my dirty clothes on the floor. There was no way I was putting that bloody shirt back on.
I wandered back into the bedroom and crossed over to the dresser. I looked in the mirror to check for any missed spots of blood, and when I saw myself I froze. My skin was perfectly clean. Perfectly smooth too. But it was my eyes that held my attention. They had changed color, and were entirely green now.Brightgreen, like cat eyes. I leaned over the dresser, putting my face close to the mirror, and stared at them with disbelief.
Eventually I leaned back, and let my gaze move over my reflection, searching for any other changes. I looked the same, but also different somehow. My skin looked flawless, except for the two small holes on my neck from where I’d been bitten.
I raised a hand to touch them, wondering why they hadn’t healed like the scrapes on my face, and noticed how perfect my hand looked. They were normally dry and cracked from constant washing at the diner, and the skin on my fingertips calloused from playing my violin. Now my hands were as smooth and soft as baby skin.
I squeezed them into fists, then opened them again, almost expecting them to change back to normal. But they remained soft and perfect. I let out a shaky breath. This would take some getting used to.
I reached down and opened the top dresser drawer. Looking through Adam’s things felt like an invasion of his privacy, but I needed clean clothes.
The drawer contained neatly folded shirts. I grabbed one and quickly pulled it over my head, knowing if I thought about it too long I’d chicken out and end up back in my own dirty clothes. It was a plain black t-shirt, which came mid-way down my thighs.
I found pants in the next drawer, but knew they'd be too big. Luckily there was a pair of gym shorts. I pulled them on and cinched the drawstring at the waist, tying it in a knot to hold them in place.
I stepped back, trying to see my entire body in the mirror. I looked ridiculous. I grabbed the waistband of the shorts and was about to slide them off when I heard a knock at the door.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah? Come in.” My heart started pounding as the door opened.
His eyes moved over me, then came back to my face. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a half-smile.
“I’m glad you found something that fits,” he said, his hand still on the doorknob.
“Um, yeah.” I nervously smoothed the front of my shirt with my hands. “Thanks.”
“It's still early. I’d like to talk some more if you’re feeling up to it. There are things we need to discuss.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
I followed him down to the living room and sat on the couch. He took the chair across from me, and we stared at each other for a few moments before he finally spoke.
