Black Dog(104)

“What time is it?” Ezekiel asked over his shoulder. He put on the robe and belted it. He still didn’t seem embarrassed, but on the other hand he didn’t turn and face her again until the robe was belted, either.

“Um,” said Natividad, and looked at her watch. Her stupid pink kitten watch. It had never before occurred to her to be embarrassed about that watch, which Alejandro had bought her because they were running out of money and it was cheap and she needed a watch. She had even thought it was sort of cute. Now, one glimpse of Ezekiel’s elegant robe and suddenly she was dying to own a nice watch, something tasteful.

She cleared her throat. “Almost… almost 5. In the afternoon. I think you’ve had about two hours of sleep. Maybe.”

“Feels like it,” muttered Ezekiel. He studied the contents of his closet for another moment. “Immediately, is it?”

From his tone, this was not exactly a question, but Natividad nodded. Then, because he wasn’t watching her, she cleared her throat and said, “Yes.”

Ezekiel turned his head, one eyebrow rising in mocking comment on her nervousness. He walked right into the closet, which must be a lot bigger than Natividad had guessed. His voice emerged, muffled, but now without that frightening edge to it. “I frightened you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t properly awake. You don’t need to be afraid of me.” He came out of the closet again, now clothed in black jeans and a black T-shirt, the robe draped across his arm.

Natividad had never seen him in jeans and a T-shirt before. The casual clothing, it turned out, did in fact look just as exactly right on him as everything else. “You didn’t frighten me,” she told him, which was sort of the truth.

Ezekiel tilted a skeptical eyebrow at her and tossed the robe across the bed. Natividad suppressed an urge to ask him if she could borrow it. When he looked at her, she remembered only belatedly to drop her gaze.

“Natividad…” But then he stopped.

Her gaze was drawn upward by that pause, until she remembered again not to look at Ezekiel’s face and made herself look aside. “Um?” She didn’t hear him move, didn’t know he was right in front of her until he put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up, gently. Startled, Natividad met his eyes. There was no anger in his face, none of the edgy temper that usually rode black dogs. There wasn’t any of his usual mockery, either. She could see the weariness in the hollows of his face, in the shadows around his pale eyes, and knew it was a weariness of spirit as much of body.

“Look at me,” he said softly. “Look at me, if you wish. I don’t mind.”

He let her see his weariness, his grief – it was a deliberate lowering of defenses. He could have hidden all his weakness from her if he’d tried. He was allowing her to see right through his hard-held privacy. This was frightening – or not exactly frightening. She felt somehow both vulnerable and oddly powerful at the same time. She said, a little breathlessly, “Grayson did say, not till my birthday…”

He did not lift his hand away from her face. “Of course. Of course he did.”

“Ezekiel – you don’t even want me anyway. You only want me because I’m Pure and almost the same age as you…” She stopped, startled and a little shocked because she hadn’t meant to say that. Even though it was true.

“Is that what you think?” He began to lean forward – he was going to kiss her…

Then his eyes widened. His thin mouth twisted with a strange kind of bitter amusement that Natividad did not understand, and he said, softly but with some force, “Hellfire and damnation.”

“Ezekiel…” Natividad said again, and again did not know what to say, but this time managed to say nothing at all. She had no idea what was going on with him.

He dropped his hand. Took a step back. Another. He looked away from her, looked back – ran a distracted hand through his pale hair, still disordered from sleep. He said, “I have to obey him.”

“Well… yes?”

He glanced at her impatiently. “Not because of that! Because… look. Without… Without Zachariah and Harrison, he can’t force me to do anything. He knows that, I know it. So I have to obey him. Damn!” He took a sharp breath and repeated, more softly, “Hellfire and damnation. I can’t…” He stopped. She watched the mask of light, unconcerned mockery settle back across his face like he’d never shown her anything else. Then he took a smooth step sideways, opened the door, and stood back, inviting her, with a tip of his head, to go out before him.