Blood Double (God Wars #1)(44)
"Came up clean," Trace said. "No reason not to hire her."
"No reason not to keep her, either—she's better at this than the rest of them."
"Let's call in those boys, then, and see if they point the finger at Yinza."
*
Kay's Journal
I had no idea what happened, until it was too late. Too focused on my work, I suppose, getting out thirty bags of fruit and doubling my quota for the afternoon. Our meals were served at our barracks every day, brought from a central kitchen located between the cutting facility and the hill on which the owners' mansion stood. The food was good—I had no complaints and could see no evidence that NorthStar was in financial difficulties, although Yinza continued her speculation in that area at every opportunity.
"You did this," Yinza hissed, standing next to me as I ate a bowl of seafood stew, shocking me and causing me to drop my spoon as I stared up at her.
"Huh?" Was all I managed to say before she was on me. With her weight, height and reach, she soon had my face beaten into a pulp before Trace came and pulled her away. The others, all fans of Yinza's gossip, had stood by silently while I'd been beaten senseless.
*
"We should have fired her when we let the others go," Trace sat beside my bedside later. I was in pain, staring at the tall man with only one eye and that one was nearly swelled shut, just as the other was. I still didn't know what happened and in my agony, I couldn't reason it out.
"I have healers coming," he added. "They were out when this happened, so I apologize for the delay. Don't worry, they'll get you fixed right up—there won't be permanent damage."
My lips wouldn't move, so there was no way I could snort at his statement. I had no care about permanent damage; right then I wanted relief from the pain, like so many times before. Shutting my only working eye instead, I let unconsciousness claim me again.
*
"Frank, I'm telling you she looks enough like you to be your sister." Trace's voice sounded, speaking a language that wasn't used in either Alliance. What was he doing? I recognized his words easily, but he wouldn't know that. Alliance common was used most often by both Alliances; there were a few other languages spoken, but not this one. The name Frank I hadn't heard in a long time, either. Would I tip my hand? Not for a million Alliance credits.
"Maybe we should get Mom and Dad in here when they get back. Let them have a look." Apparently, that was Frank speaking, again in the same language. He had a nice voice—a strong baritone. Might be able to sing, if he had the inclination. All this took place while I had my eyes closed, so I hadn't seen Frank—the one who looked enough like me to be my brother.
"We've decided to move her up to the house—none of those girls thought to step in; they let that lying, stealing bitch beat on her instead."
"You left that lying, stealing bitch in her job," Frank pointed out softly.
"Yeah. This is my fault." Trace sounded depressed.
"Trace, honey, I didn't mean it like that." I heard the unmistakable sound of kissing. Well, Frank and Trace were together.
"Hey, where's mine?" Another voice, still speaking the same language, joined us in the room. At that moment, I wondered where I was. Still refusing to open my eyes, I listened in while I realized my old, much harder mattress from the barracks was definitely not beneath my body.
"Shane, why do you even have to ask?" Trace chuckled and more kissing noises came. Multiple mates were allowed and sometimes encouraged by both Alliances. Having multiple mates meant additional income for a household, more hands to raise children and a better standard of living for all involved. It also reduced the number of infidelities—according to studies I'd read, anyway.
"You little possum," Shane, the newcomer, accused softly, sitting down on the side of my bed. The term possum also didn't exist in either Alliance. Blinking my eyes open, I caught sight of Shane first; he was smiling mischievously at me. Light-brown hair, nice brown eyes and a comforting smile greeted me first thing. He looked young, but my senses told me he wasn't.
"Who are you?" I croaked in Alliance common. I didn't want him to know I'd understood his words earlier.
"I'm Shane. You know Trace already and this is Frank—Franklin, actually." I got my first glimpse through swollen eyes at the man who did resemble me enough to be my brother. The blackest hair, fair, pale-honey skin and bright, sky-blue eyes—wrapped in an extremely handsome package. Franklin smiled at me, just as Shane had.
"We're healers," Shane announced conversationally as he settled more comfortably on my bed.
"Where am I?" I asked my second question. My voice sounded a little better this time.
"You're in the main house," Shane grinned. "In a guest bedroom. Frank's mom will probably offer you a job here at the house when she gets back. Harvest is almost over and we need an extra staffer here, anyway."
Terror suddenly gripped me—he'd said they were healers. Had they? I lifted the covers before breathing a relieved sigh. I was still dressed in my own clothing. Hardly any time had passed. These healers must be very good—I could see out of both eyes and nothing felt broken, now. How had they accomplished that? The only ones with that sort of talent were warlocks, and I wasn't about to ask about that. Warlocks were frightening. It was better not knowing.