Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)(17)
Elder Merrick glanced at me, his gaze trapping mine, the first time we had looked each other in the eye all night long, and he stated quietly, “Elder Farrar also said, “You’re welcome”.” His lips twitched. “And that he expects you to knock the next time you enter his home because he did not appreciate the injury he was inflicted with the last time.” I couldn’t help it, holding my stomach; a deep belly laugh erupted from my mouth, even as an enormous blush stole over my cheeks, vividly picturing what I had seen. Navy eyes ran over my face, black brows lifting as he murmured quietly, “And…he said you would laugh and blush.” He shook his head, black curls tossing about his face. “What the hell have you been up to, Ms. Farrow?”
Still laughing, I muttered, “Seeing way too much, and luckily, remembering the towel’s on to the right.” I flicked my finger, laughing it up. “My right, no one else’s right.” And after that, the Kings left me the fuck alone for the evening, silent, all of them so obviously deep in thought, while Elder Jacobs smiled at me, a real one, and actually propositioned me in front of everyone. My eyes popped wide at that, and I stuttered a polite “no”, but I was flattered for the offer, and actually meaning it, which he humbly accepted, appearing a bit downcast about the fact. The Prodigies and I left for less stuffy affairs after a few drinks, the fight, and my weapons being returned by the Butch Smiling Bitch, and I barely managed to not give Elder Merrick a covert glance of carnal sin the entire time.
“Sadie?” Elder Merrick, not Cain with that tone, called loudly, his voice odd, waking me from my sleep.
I blinked my eyes open, rubbing them, calling, “Yeah?”
I heard a door bang open, then stomping feet, then he was leaning a shoulder against the door frame to my bedroom. His curly hair was dripping wet with only a towel around his waist riding low on his hips, making my gaze falter in the early morning light, not noticing at first what he lifted in his hand, but, then I did, as he slowly twirled a small case between his fingers like it was a poker chip. “This was on your counter.”
I was already frozen, trying to think of an excuse, but absolutely nothing brilliant came to mind.
Black eyebrows lifted as he continued twirling the case, navy blue eyes evaluating me closely. “You do know birth control pills don’t work for Mysticals?”
My lips pinched, unable to say anything, happy I had even found a doctor to give them to me since the one I normally used wasn’t even born yet. It had been over two weeks since the boxing episode with the Kings and Elders, and I’d had my period that next week, which was a good thing, and a bad one.
The good: I’d had my period, no pregnancy.
The bad: Even though Cain had come over, our casual acquaintance had been very one sided.
But, luckily, thinking ahead, I had searched for a doctor. I’d started taking the pills, but they wouldn’t be effective for another month. And I would really like to stop using condoms if at all possible, seeing as I had to dispose of them quickly just in case Kincaid came back into my room for whatever reason.
His eyes instantly narrowed, but quickly altered to serene, not missing a damn thing, his voice more gravelly in the mornings. “Did someone tell you they work?”
“Cain,” I cleared my throat, my head teetering back and forth, trying to think in code, “I’ve said it before, but do you believe all Mysticals are created alike?”
He stated point blank, his feet quickly eating up the distance between us, “Sadie, I don’t know what” oh, that was a not a happy expression, “asshole told you these work, but Mysticals bodies eat these like candy. They don’t work.” He tossed it in the trash by the dresser.
“Don’t do that.” I instantly scrambled out of bed, tugging the sheet with me to keep myself covered, grabbed it out, then quickly hid it behind my back when he tried to grab it again. “Wait!” I heaved in a breath, showing him the bruise on my arm I had got from doing inventory at work, showing him clearly the bruise still livid on my wrist, the same one he had been eyeing covertly all the previous evening. “I will ask it again. Do you believe all Mysticals are created alike?”
He stopped from trying to grab the pills again, glaring at my arm. “How is that bruise still there? You shouldn’t be injured still.” His wolf growled quietly. “I’ve felt your power. You’re damn strong for your age. Even a weak Mystical heals more quickly than,” his eyes narrowed further on the purple mark, “that.”
“Cain,” my lips pinched, “think. Do you believe all Mysticals are created alike?”
Furious navy eyes flicked to mine, then back to my bruise. “No.”
I waved my hand at the bed. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
He moved, but he appeared antsy, if he actually could, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands on his thighs, the towel stretching very nicely over them. I jerked my attention away from muscled legs, and stared him straight in the eyes, focusing on coherency instead of letting myself fall into them, and I stated point blank, “One of the reasons I prefer to keep what I am hidden here is because, when I don’t…people tend to…stare…or assume certain things, but as I stated to Elder Jacobs, I cannot speak on it, so I have to move around certain issues in code.” Inhaling heavily, I asked, “Will you not tell anyone what I’m going to try to show you? Ever? I’d prefer to keep this between us, and there are reasons why spirits are unable to speak on such things.”