He reaches for a washcloth on a small shelf tucked in the corner near the sink. “And I’m making you rest for a day.”
“Alex, I don’t—”
He places a finger over my lips, the washcloth balled in his hand. “Rest, or no deal.”
I narrow my eyes, but on the inside I’m less irritated, understanding that he’s worried about me. “Okay, one day,” I say against his lips.
He nods and then dips the washcloth into the bathtub of water. “Now, lean back.”
I glance at the soaked washcloth in his hand. “Why?”
“Because,” he leans in and brushes his lips across mine. “I’m going to wash off all those cuts that damn Faerie put all over you,” he says in a low voice.
I do what he says and lean back, resting my head against the back of the tub, the water flowing over my body. I’m completely naked except for my locket and my muscles feel like I’ve just ran a marathon. Yet, with each touch of his hand, I start to feel better as he moves the washcloth over my body, wiping away the dried blood and mud as he cleans off the cuts. I swear it feels like he’s washing away the icky feelings I’ve been experiencing and the memories of what I did to Nicholas. I feel cleaner, more relaxed, more in tune with him. He’s touching me everywhere, even when he’s not, the magnetic bond syncing our bodies together.
I shut my eyes as he works the cloth over my neck, down my chest, over my breasts. I groan, curving upward, but I don’t open my eyes, even when his hand moves to the inside of my thighs. Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, his hand and the cloth leave my body. Seconds later, he combs his fingers through my hair and begins washing it as he tenderly tugs at the roots.
When he finishes I open my eyes and look up at him.
“Feel better?” he asks, tossing the cloth aside.
I nod, unable to look away from the longing in his eyes. “I do. Thank you.”
He stands to his feet and reaches for a towel on the hook near the door, and then he takes my hands to help me to my feet. Like he did back at Adessa’s house, he helps me out of the tub and then dries me off. After he secures the towel around me, he carries me to a bed in a room with floral walls and French doors that open out to a deck. The view from the deck is breathtaking; golden sand, amazingly blue ocean and the glistening sunshine. Although I barely get to appreciate it because, as soon as he lays me down on the bed and my head hits the pillow, exhaustion overcomes me and I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in a very, very long time.
Chapter 24
Maryland is very humid. The air is so heavy and dense that it feels like being in a sauna. The little blue house is secluded near a rocky beach where the ocean constantly roars against the shore. It’s my first time seeing it and, while I enjoy it, I know that there are many other things to worry about at the moment. Like saving my mom.
Aislin puts up countless charms all over the house, so many that I even set off a few by accident when I simply walked into the wrong areas of the house. One of them turned my skin purple and, when I asked her what the point was, she said it was a distraction. I still didn’t get it, though. We also put praesidium all over the house and yard and even close areas of the beach; so there won’t be any surprise visits from Foreseers.
I’ve been working my ass off to get the Ira to work, but I can’t channel enough energy. It frustrates me to no end and forces me to push past my limits. I’ve passed out a few times from using too much energy and Alex is getting more and more reluctant to help me.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said one day after I’d passed out while clutching onto the Ira. “It’s not healthy.”
“It’s not healthy being the star, either,” I replied, turning the teal crystal ball in my hand. “I need to be normal.”
“I don’t think you’ll ever be normal,” he said begrudgingly. “None of us will.”
“Well, then I want to be weird without the star in me,” I told him.
That got him to smile, something I’ve started noticing he doesn’t do very often and, whenever I manage to get him to crack one, it seems to lighten his mood.
On top of the Ira problems, Laylen’s been getting mood swings a lot, having violent outburst. He even threw a cup across the room because he couldn’t find the coffeemaker. It’s been happening ever since he almost died and my blood brought him back. I’m beginning to worry that between death and all the blood drinking, his caring, laid-back personality has been altered.
I tried to talk to him about it once, when we crossed paths inside the kitchen. He’s been avoiding me; he even went so far as to try to turn around when I walked up to him while he was searching for a plate, but I stepped into his path.