I sighed; someone save me from bossy control freaks.
I looked at Lucy. “I say we trust him for now. We can ditch him later.”
“You know I’m standing right here.” His brow furrowed over the velvety brown of his eyes.
Lucy ignored him. “Tell me you’re using your brain for this decision, Abbs. Remember what Quarn said.”
Brace reacted minutely at the mention of this. Or I may have imagined it. Either way, it felt like it was time to remind him who he was dealing with.
I stood to my full height, hands firmly on my hips. “Don’t mess with us, Brace. Lucy is super talented with a razor and glue gun.”
Lucy nodded. “That’s right; your eyebrows will never be the same again.” She smiled. “And with that threat hanging over your head, let’s go, gorgeous.” And she sauntered past him out the door.
As I watched him follow her I realized something. Which, if asked, I’d deny until the ends of time – I wanted him around.
Also, I was determined to figure out his secret. And why he, of all people, ended up in my dreams.
Shaking his head, Brace paused in the hall. He nodded toward two familiar packs on the floor.
“I retrieved your bags. Father said he didn’t go through them, so everything should be there.”
Dropping beside my pack, I furtively checked for the stone. Everything was in its place.
“Thank god he didn’t touch my shoes.” Lucy had a pair in each hand, her favorite vintage pink chucks in the right and purple wedges in the left, which I personally found too ugly to exist.
“That would have not ended well for anyone,” she finished, shoving them back into the bag.
“Were you actually worried that Deralick would have a use for your size five pink and purple shoes?” I pursed my lips as she rained glares on me. Guess she had.
“Let’s go.” Brace paused. “Do you need any help with your packs? It’s quite a walk to town.”
We both shook our heads; this was my second attempt at protecting the stone. And apparently Lucy trusted no one with her clothes.
Shouldering her pack, Lucy had a new distraction as she hopped on the spot. “Tell me the bathroom is close?”
Slight confusion crossed his features, but he answered. “It’s just down the hall.”
We followed him along the plain white hallway. He paused at an intersection; frosted glass doors were the only break in the endless white. Once again there were no latches, handles, hinges or any indication a door existed. The panel just slid into the wall.
With his right hand, Brace gestured for us to enter.
“Five minutes,” were the last words he said as we stepped inside and the door slid closed.
I moved quickly into the small room. It was stark and clean, with zero character. Large white tiles lined the floor and walls. A glass-walled cube sat in the corner – beside it was the toilet.
Lucy sprinted in that direction, dropping her pack on the ground. My own discomfort growing, I distracted myself by walking to the large mirror running along the wall.
“What. The. Hell.” I gasped at my reflection.
Half of my hair was still braided, the other half was teased into curly tendrils all around my head. Damn, I let Brace see me like this? I smirked at my reflection; there goes any chance of him returning my attraction.
Lucy snorted behind me. “I told you. Good luck fixing that.”
Dropping my pack, I scrabbled around until I found my hairbrush. It was tied together with gel paste and toothbrush. Under the mirror rested a small clear bench. A glass bowl perched on top. As I reached into the bowl, cool water flowed from under the glass.
No faucet. Apparently we were lucky enough to have magic doors and magic water. Shrugging, I plunged my toothbrush in and coated it high with paste. I hated an unclean mouth; I had a slight obsession with minty freshness.
Finishing quickly, I spat before rinsing clean. Then I attempted to tame my red mane. Untangling my braid, I attacked with my brush. It stuck at first stroke. Struggling to free it, I groaned as strands tore free.
A flush sounded. Lucy moved to wash her hands next to me.
I moaned my frustration at her. “I’d say two days from dreadlocks.”
“Word.” She again attempted to run her hands through her own snarled curls, which again ended in failure.
“It’s not really fair, Abbs. I have bruises everywhere, and this awesome scrape.” She gestured to the pink graze on her cheek. “But besides messy hair you look perfect, and too gorgeous as usual.” She glared in mock annoyance. “What’s your secret? Do you have a hidden fountain of hotness?”
I stuck my tongue out at her in the reflection. “You’re insane Lucy.” I would kill for her curves and blond beauty.