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He sucks in his lower lip for a moment and I’m flooded with the urge to kiss him. Open his mouth with my lips, slide my tongue over his. Kiss him in a way that tells him that I’m sorry for being so cruel.
But then he drops his hand and looks away. He’s conceded to let me take care of him.
So that’s what I do.
I rub the washcloth on the soap and then swirl it around his wound. He lets out sharp gasps of pain, his muscles straining, his teeth grinding together, but he lets me clean him. Not just the wound, but everywhere, from head to toe, exploring his body in a way that brings me back to a year prior, the lazy days we’d have in the bath in that Manhattan hotel room.
When he’s done, he steps out of the water and I wrap a towel around him and make him sit on the edge of the tub while I rub the herbs and oil onto his injury. Then I wrap him up with some gauze from behind the medicine cabinet, just in case.
“I think I hate you,” he whispers to me as I tuck the ends of the gauze over his shoulder.
I go still at that, a knife between my ribs. I swallow thickly and look him in the eye, our faces mere inches away.
“Well,” I say, giving him a faint smile, “at least you feel something for me.”
Chapter 6
Kat
When dawn broke over the elm trees, turning the yellow leaves to gold, I woke up to find Crane’s room empty. He’d left me a note that said he and Brom survived the night and that they’d gone to check out the damage to the library. At least that’s what I thought it said—Crane’s poor penmanship still amuses me.
I didn’t think I’d sleep at all last night but while they were in the bath I guess I fell into deep slumber. I didn’t even hear them come back in, I’m not sure where either of them slept—I feel bad if it was the floor—but I assume they didn’t sleep at all.
But even with a few hours of shut-eye, I still feel groggy.
I get up and slide open the window a crack, letting the cold morning air waft in with the sweet scent of over-ripe blackberries and the earthy smell of decaying leaves. Though the trees are glowing in shades of yellow, orange, and red, the morning sun is starting to fade already, obscured by a slow moving fog. I stand there at the window and watch as it comes over the narrow finger of the dark lake, taking in the view from Crane’s room until the mist has covered everything in grey.
It feels like it was only yesterday that Crane and I attempted the ritual in the veil standing by the shore of that black lake. I have to wonder if it was my fault that the horseman went after Brom. I was lost in my thoughts, thinking about Brom in the void, trying to conjure him forward but instead what I conjured was the horseman. All this time, had the horseman been looking for Brom, unable to find him, until my energy lead me to him, like a hound on the scent?
I hold that thought for a moment, watching as the mist obscures the dark water. If it hadn’t been for me, would Brom still be out there in New York or some other place, still on the run, still hunted? Would that have been better for him, to deal with that feeling his whole life, to never feel at peace or feel he could return home? Or is it better that he’s here no, albeit under the control of a murderous spirit?
I don’t have the answers. I just know that, selfishly, despite all he’s done and what he’s going through, I’m glad he’s here with me. I know Crane and I will fix him, will expel the evil from his body. It’s just a matter of when. There’s a ticking clock somewhere and I don’t know what it’s counting down to.
I sigh, taking in the sight of Crane’s room. He doesn’t have a lot to peruse, just a big doctor’s style bag filled with jars of potions and tinctures, a few more jars on a shelf along with what looks like a rat’s skull, a couple of crystals, a stack of tarot cards, and some freshly cut herbs, and a stack of books on the floor that were probably on the desk until they were knocked off. But even so, I feel like I’m glimpsing parts of him that he keeps private, like it’s a privilege to be here alone.
But I can’t spend all morning looking around so I go into the bathroom and draw a bath. I’m able to heat the water again, but not as hot as last night and when I’m done I feel drained. It’s like whatever energy has been built-up inside me is now being rationed.
