Well, that and to get harassed. Several fighters were brushing against the women, speaking to them. Nalah couldn’t hear the words, but the pinched look on the women’s faces said everything. She crowded closer to Esh. Esh, who had noticed as well and was taking it in without a sound, only wrapped his arm around her shoulder and waited until a woman came forward for them.
They were shown to their apartment, located in the smallest of the cluster of buildings that seemed to be the fighters housing. The rooms were well appointed and spacious and a far cry from what she had been expecting. Nalah started searching room to room, holding her finger to her mouth when he would have said something. Shrugging, he lay on the bed, hands beneath his head as he watched her work.
Finally she nodded, and he spoke. “What was that?”
“Remember I said most people put seven different security spells on a building but wouldn’t bolt their door? Well, this was the opposite. There’s no magic here, so I was looking for old-fashioned methods to listen or spy on us.”
“Any?”
“None, which is kind of shocking. Paranoia is Beylor’s defining characteristic. I can’t understand why he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the fighters. I put up some countermeasures in case he gets the idea in the future, but right now, zilch.”
“I’m not surprised. There are several other ways Beylor keeps an eye on us, and someone finding a bug in their room wouldn’t be good for his business. That’s a line most of us wouldn’t accept being crossed, especially for those who bring their women. Speaking of,” he added, patting the bed beside him.
He was intent on her, focused on her in a way he was nowhere else, not even within the ring. His words from that night pounded in her brain, the beat upping her heart rate and bringing warmth to her skin. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand, not so quickly, but inside her still lived the ten-year-old who looked up to him like he was a rock star and the seventeen-year-old who loved him as only a teenager was capable of, and they were both demanding she snuggle with him on that bed.
Straightening her spine, she did the only thing that came to mind – stall and hope it worked. “I’d like to get cleaned up, look around a bit, check out the fighters.”
“Later,” Esh said, and his face was settling into lines that promised a battle should she fight him on this.
So much for that plan. Nalah took off her shoes, debating a moment. If she tried to stay on the opposite side of the bed he’d come after her. There was nothing to do except cuddle into him, so she did, positioning herself so her face lay on his shoulder and her arm rested over his upper waist.
He snorted, but didn’t say anything, instead tightening his arm so she was comfortably crushed to him.
His fingers moved in lazy circles over her upper arms, sensitizing every square inch of skin and leading her mind to latch on one question – Where will he touch next?
And the small disappointment when it became obvious the answer was nowhere else, that he was content holding her in his arms and stroking the skin of her arm? It was because there were better things she should be doing right this moment.
Yeah, right, said the seventeen-year-old. Not wanting to examine her thoughts or motives all that closely, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift.
The first time she was in his arms in a romantic sense was right after their first kiss. It was her first kiss ever, though Esh couldn’t claim the same – not that she ever pressed him on that.
The kiss was so soft. Of all the words that described Esh, soft never once entered her mind before that night, but that was the only word that fit. His lip was split, but he didn’t hesitate to press them to hers when she lifted her face, the faintest aftertaste of blood lingering. His fight swollen hands roamed feather-light over her skin of her shoulders and arms, going only a moment to the stretch of skin over her tummy her too-short shirt revealed, before tugging the material down and returning to the neutral areas.
He laid her on top of him that night, not making any allowances for the various bruises the fight left, but he pushed her no further – soft kisses and soft strokes were all that were given that night, until she fell asleep in his arms.
“Why do you want to check out the other fighters?
“Hmm?” It took a moment to be brought out of her hazy lassitude. “Oh, I want to see if any of them are innate.”
“Innate?” he asked, voice curious but still calm.
“Yeah, I should be able to feel if any of them have powers by magical means.” She glanced up to see him studying her, his face calm confusion.
“Didn’t we just go over how this place isn’t magical?”