The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(45)

Turning, she brushed a bit of flour from her hands, which resulted in more coating her clothes, and then froze as she spotted him. Her face split into a wide smile and she waved him into the room. “When did you arrive and how long have you been standing there?” Jala demanded as she waved him toward the table.

Neph smirked and dropped down into a seat with a shrug. “Long enough to realize you should hire servants,” he said.

Jala rolled her eyes at him and frowned as she poured a cup of tea and sat it down in front of him. “That’s the same rubbish Sovann is always going on about. I don’t see servants in his house, though,” she muttered sourly.

“He isn’t a High Lady,” Neph pointed out. He eyed the tea for a moment and then reached to the center of the table for the sugar dish. Still watching Jala, he dropped several spoon-fulls in and began to stir slowly. “So Vaze tells me you have a lot to talk with me about,” he began slowly and watched several emotions flash quickly across her face at his words. Excitement had definitely been the strongest, but there had been a touch of fear there as well. That sight alone gave him pause.

“We should see to getting your people settled before we worry about anything like that, Neph. I told Ash to make sure we had room in the Barracks for your men, but none of us were really sure exactly how many people you were bringing,” Jala said as she pushed a pan into one of the massive ovens and joined him at the table.

“You just need to worry about me, actually,” Neph said with a smile. She stared at him in confusion first and then dismay as he carefully took a sip of his tea. He leaned back in his seat and ignored her continuing stare as he tried to guess what herbs she had added to the tea leaves. There was a very strong trace of mint and another somewhat bitter flavor that he couldn’t quite place.

“They wouldn’t follow you?” Jala demanded, once she realized he wasn’t planning to explain more.

“They are with me,” Neph said vaguely and had to resist the urge to laugh as her frustration with him grew more obvious. Lifting the cup, he inhaled deeply, still trying to puzzle out what the odd flavor was and frowned. “I recognize the mint and the tea leaves obviously, but what else is in this?”

“What do you mean your people are with you but I don’t need to worry about housing them?” Jala stormed and let out a loud breath.

“Really, do you think I honestly want to discuss the tea mixture right now?”

“Do you see how irritating that is now, Jala? When you desperately want to know something and your friend is being annoying and cryptic. Doesn’t it just make you want to choke them? Like, say someone returns from the dead and drags you out of your home in the middle of the night for a secret meeting that they won’t explain?” He let his words trail off and smiled at her in smug satisfaction as he took a long drink from the tea.

“Willow bark. Vaze said you were bruised and looked a bit worse for wear. I thought you would refuse healing so I added painkiller to your tea,” Jala explained quietly, then stared in shock as Neph spat the tea he had been drinking into the floor between them.

Quickly, he pushed the cup back away from him and rose from the table, crossing to the sink in hurried steps. Without a backward glance at her, he leaned his head down to the faucet and rinsed his mouth out several times until he could no longer taste the slightest hint of the tea. Slowly he stood back upright and turned to look at Jala who was staring at him slack jawed.

“Are you allergic to willow?” Jala asked quietly, her gaze moving from the tea splattered floor to him in utter confusion.

“I’m a channeler, Jala,” Neph said slowly, his pale blue eyes locking on her violet ones. Honestly, he had thought she knew what his focus was, but it was apparent now that she didn’t. Painkillers were devastating to him and had he finished the cup he would have been crippled on magic until the herb’s effects wore off. “I’m bruised and scraped and my body aches and I’m more powerful because of it,” he continued and saw the light of recognition flicker to life in her eyes.

“Pain, Neph? You chose pain as a bloody focus?” Jala demanded. She shook her head at him and then glanced at the cup and back to him. “Bloody hell. It wasn’t much willow. I barely added any at all. I knew you never use painkillers so...” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head at him again. “Of all things, Neph, why did you choose pain?”

“Because it is the most constant thing I know, Jala,” Neph answered quietly and watched as her mouth snapped shut once more. Jala leaned back heavily in her seat and rubbed her face with one delicate hand smearing more flour across her cheek in the process. Now didn’t seem to be the time to point that out, however. His words had darkened her mood and he doubted teasing her would help much. “It’s fine, Jala. I can’t feel any effects and I barely took two drinks before you told me,” Neph assured her as he pulled a rag from the shelf and moved to clean up the mess he had made on her floor.

“Pain should be a rarity, Neph. Life should not revolve around suffering and loss with happiness as the fleeting part of our existence,” Jala said softly as she folded her hands on the table and stared down at her arm where Firym tattoos had once been.

Rising slowly, Neph dropped into his chair once more and tossed the rag on the side of the table. He leaned forward on his elbows and let out a long breath as he watched her. It was obvious that there was more to this display than anything he had said, but how much more he had no idea.