A Touch of Death

by J. J. Dean

  Inside the bathroom, I hunt down the essentials: towel, shampoo and body wash, a new toothbrush, and a comb for her hair. I set it all out beside the sink and head towards my room when I'm done. I go straight to my drawers and pull out loose-fitted grey sweatpants, a white shirt, boxer briefs, and a pair of socks. It hasn't escaped my attention that I'm finding things of mine for her to use and wear, but that's a problem for another time.

  I make my way back to the bathroom, deposit the clothes onto the toilet seat, and walk back to the living room. I sit in the arm chair opposite her, the one Spencer normally occupies, and stretch to the coffee table for the remote to the television. I settle in my seat and flick the TV on, heading straight to Netflix. While I'm browsing through the movies, I tell Novia, "There's stuff in the bathroom ready for when you're done. Things for the shower and a change of clothes. Thought you might want to have a shower after... you know."

  I don't face her when I'm talking, focusing my gaze solely on the movies I'm not even seeing the titles to. I can feel her eyes on me, though, and I work hard to repress a shiver.

  "I was going to ask if I could use the shower, so thank you. I feel and look like I've been dragged through hell and back." Her voice is as soft as her skin, with a hint of the rasp that hasn't quite left her since yesterday. My eyes flick to her quickly before going back to the TV. She's wrong. She doesn't look like she's been dragged through hell. She looks a little roughed up, but she's stunning. It's easy to see despite the dirt and wild hair.

  "You don't look that bad. You're beautiful. Just need to freshen you up a little, is all," Nix tells her with a grin. Great, he's definitely over his wake up mishap.

  A blush rises to Novia's cheeks for a second time this morning, and I hide my smile behind my hand. Instead of commenting, she keeps eating her pancakes, making soft sighs and sweet moans with almost every bite. I have to work hard on staring at the screen and not her. No man should have to suffer those kinds of noises when he's trying to be a decent being. No damn incubus should have to suffer them when he's trying not to be attracted to the fae. This is a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and we need to figure out what the hell is going on.

  Novia finishes her food in record time without a morsel left on the plate. She thanks me again while standing and moving around me to put her plate in the sink. As she goes, her hand reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, but her touch disappears quickly. It's almost as though I imagined it entirely, yet my shoulder tingles from where her fingers had been.

  I hear her puttering around the kitchen, and with a quick glance, I see her washing her plate and cutlery before shuffling to the bathroom. When my gaze goes back to the TV, I skim over Nix's face and double back when I catch the dick grinning at me.

  "What?" I ask, raising my eyebrow at him.

  He keeps grinning like he has a secret that he really wants to tell me but is trying to restrain.

  "Stop staring at me, weirdo. I'll start thinking you have some sort of crush on me."

  His grin gets bigger, and he slides to the edge of his seat, clapping his hands together and placing his elbows on his knees.

  "Bloody hell, Nix. Spit it out already." I throw my hands in the air, almost losing grip of the remote I'm still holding.

  "You like her," he says. Well, now I wish he'd keep grinning at me with his creepy smile. I don't bother with a response, deciding Netflix needs more of my attention. I pick a new action movie and turn the volume up, hoping to drown out Nix if he decides to keep talking as well as the sound of the shower that's just switched on. I do not need images of a naked Novia in my head right now. Maybe not ever. The woman has been through a great ordeal. I do not need to be thinking of her soapy and wet. Get your head out of the gutter, Ezra.

  I’m beyond relieved that Zayn isn’t here right now to bear witness to my perverted thoughts and to have a first row view of how far I’ve fallen. I need a verbal lashing from him as much as I need a damn hole in my head, so I best keep those things vaulted in the back of my brain.

  Regardless of not needing inappropriate images of the fae in my head, there's a tugging in my chest that demands I go to Novia. That tugging can kiss my arse because I refuse to move from this seat even with Nix watching me like a hawk.

  The minutes tick by slowly, dragging by one second at a time, until I finally snap. “Would you please stop staring at me? I can feel your eyes burning a whole in my bloody face.”

  He doesn’t answer straight away, so I force my gaze to turn to him. His smile has disappeared, and his eyes have narrowed slightly. I know that look all too well. He’s trying to assess me, my thoughts and feelings. After all the years I’ve known him, I know he’s about to turn therapist.

  “Save the session, Nix. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to discuss the fae. Drop it.”

  Once again, I don't receive an answer. His eyebrow pulls up, and he looks away. He nods to himself before lifting from the couch and walking towards his room. That's it? He's not going to force the issue? Because Nix isn't anything if not a pro at pushing things people don't wish to talk about.

  I hear his bedroom door open and close with a thud, and I'm left sitting in the living room by myself with a movie blaring through the speakers and without a clue as to what the hell it's about. I really was expecting more resistance.

  I decide to shake it off and check my mobile for any messages from Zayn or Spencer. The three of us have been awake since the crack of dawn with nothing to do now that our original mission is no longer active. When I asked what we should do next, Zayn perked up and dragged Spencer out of the house, leaving me to wait around for Novia and Nix to wake up.

  Still no messages.

  The pair have been gone for almost three hours now. What the hell are they doing that could be taking so long?

  With nothing else to do, I settle into Spencer's chair and focus on the movie that's playing. I get about an hour in when Novia comes back into the living room, the sound of her sock-covered feet shuffling over the wooden flooring. As she walks around my chair, the scent of my shampoo and body wash reaches me. In the corner of my eye, I see my shirt hanging on her, the sweatpants loose on her waist and rolled at the bottom. My jaw clenches, and I have to clamp my hands together to stop reaching for her. Having her smelling like me and wearing my clothes while looking nothing short of stunning in them is really testing my self-control.

  "Thank you for the clothes and everything." Her voice is soft, the rasp slowly fading the more she uses her voice. Annoyingly, it's quickly becoming one of my favourite sounds to hear, and I've only been graced with hearing her talk for two days. I don't need anyone to tell me just how ridiculous that is because I'm already fully aware.

  She sits on the couch, and I offer a nod, eyes still on my movie. "You're welcome. Sorry we didn't think to offer a shower sooner."

  I catch her smile in my peripheral, and my breath catches briefly. Jesus, why is she having this kind of effect on me? "It's fine. It wasn't high on my priority list, so I can imagine it was pretty low on yours and the others’ too."

  She isn't wrong, but it makes me feel awful regardless.

  "It should have been high on the list, so I'm sorry." I turn my head away from the movie and finally look at her. I almost wish I hadn't. If I thought she was gorgeous before, caked in dirt and wild hair and all, then she's a thing of utter beauty now. Her skin is pale, flawless and unmarked. Her almost white blond hair is a shade darker when it's wet, and it hangs in damp waves down her chest, reaching just under her breasts. All traces of bruises and cuts have disappeared, leaving her with a healthy glow and bright eyes. Her blue eye is brighter than her green, but they're mesmerising with thick eyelashes framing them.

  I look quickly away before my traitor brain makes me do something I don't want to do. Just as I start focusing back on the movie, her sweet voice asks, "What are you watching?"

  A quick glance in her direction shows her leaning into the couch, watching the movie even though she
has no idea what it's about or what's happening. This is the first thing she's watching anything since leaving the facility. This movie won't do.

  With an inward eyeroll directed at my stupid self, I turn the movie off and flick through the selection until I find Grown Ups, a comedy and one of my favourites. I turn the volume up a fraction more and settle back into the chair. In a near whisper, she asks the same question, but rephrases slightly. "What are we watching?"

  For some reason that I don't even want to think about, my heart pauses then beats a little faster when she says 'we'. The sound of the word leaving her full lips does something funny to me, something I'm not entirely annoyed or pleased about.

  We need answers, and bloody fast.

  "It's a comedy movie. It's a favourite of mine, but if you don't like it, we'll turn another movie on until we find something you like the sound of." I cross my arms over my chest and quiet down while the movie begins. Novia doesn't say anything more, just tucks her legs underneath her and glues her eyes to the TV screen. Nix comes out of his room some time after, freshly-showered and dressed in clean clothing. We all get comfortable and pay attention to the antics of Adam Sandler and his friends.

  Already forty minutes into the movie, Novia has snorted, choked on the water that Nix brought her, and laughed until she wheezed and cried. Her reactions alone have been enough to amuse me, so I've been paying more attention to Novia than the movie itself. One look at Nix proves he's doing the same thing. At least that makes me feel less like an idiot.

  Zayn and Spencer walk through the front door just as Novia begins a new round of laughter, dragging Nix with her. The guys pause by the door, arms loaded with various shaped and sized bags and boxes. They both look stunned for a second before Zayn's eyes light up, and a grin breaks out over his face. Spencer's mouth is pulled up in a small smile, something I've rarely ever seen him do before the last couple of days.

  Instead of interrupting like I expected them to do, they quietly dispose of their bags and join the three of us in the living room. They both sit on the double couch, careful not to distract Novia from the movie she seems to be enjoying as much as I normally do. Novia watches the movie until the credits roll, while the four of us have been watching her like morons, anticipating her reactions. Every laugh, snort, and grin made my heart beat faster, and I couldn’t have looked away from her even if I’d tried.

  Now, however, when she turns her head with a blinding smile on her face, we're all quick to make out as though we haven't been staring at her like total creepers.

  "Hey, when did you guys get there?" she asks Zayn and Spence, her white-toothed smile still on display. She's tucked into the couch, curled slightly over the arm of the chair, but her legs aren't tucked underneath her anymore. She's somehow stretched them out until her sock-covered feet lean against Nix's thigh. Once again, I’m annoyed at myself when a flare of jealousy rises in my chest. I work hard to tamper it down, but Nix catches the glare I send him. He sends me a small smirk before intentionally moving his hand until it rests on Novia's ankle. I've never had such an intense urge to slap the man before today.

  I miss most of the back and forth between Novia, Spencer, and Zayn thanks to the furry fucker, but I manage to catch Novia's confused outburst. "You bought me clothes?"

  My head snaps to Zayn, who looks a little sheepish. "I figured you didn't have anything of your own after... I just wanted you to have a few things of your own, that's all. And Spencer agreed when I explained in the car. You should have some things to call your own now that you're free from that place."

  Novia's mouth pops open in shock, and tears fill her eyes. Her hand raises shakily, and she covers her mouth, but her eyes flicker between Zayn and Spencer.

  Spencer suddenly smiles the biggest smile I've ever seen on him, and Zayn blushes but whispers, "You're more than welcome, Novia."

  And there I am, being a jealous brute again because I know he just had a glimpse into the woman's mind and shared it with Spencer. My glare finds itself planted on Zayn. Why the fuck didn't he drag me shopping with him instead of Spencer? He knows I'm the best man suited for that kind of job. They all rope me into clothes shopping, so why not this time? Better yet, why do I even care?

  Because I want her, and if this mating bond is real, then I know she won’t ever be only mine no matter how badly I want her to be.

  Chapter 9

  Novia

  They bought me new clothes. I'm sitting here, seconds away from breaking down all over again, because in all the years I'd been a prisoner, I hadn’t had one thing of my own other than the cage those bastards kept me in.

  I try to tell them both how grateful I am, but I'm afraid that if I open my mouth, nothing will come out other than a wail and a mess of inconsequential gibberish. Instead, I let Zayn take a peek into my brain and send him a thought.

  Thank you so much. You're all going above and beyond, and I can't tell you how grateful I am. I'm so glad it was the four of you who found me.

  A shy smile graces the vampire's mouth, and Spencer gives me the biggest smile I've seen from him yet, letting me know that Zayn passed on the message. Removing my hand, I offer them a watery smile.

  "Come. We'd like to show you what we bought for you." Zayn stands from his seat, followed by Spencer, who holds out a hand for me to take so he can pull me from the couch. I accept, sliding my hand in his, and he tugs me from my seat until I'm standing upright. He lets go of me, but the opposite hand goes to my lower back, guiding me through the living room to a room I've not yet seen with Zayn leading the way.

  The room is immaculate, not a thing out of place. There's a wall lined with books to the left, a king-sized bed on the far wall opposite the door, and a desk with a closed laptop on the right that sits under the window. The walls are painted a pale grey, completely bare besides the minimalist clock that hangs on the wall opposite the bed.

  Set atop the bed is a plethora of bags and boxes, labelled with places and brands I've never heard of before. They all range in different sizes and colours but take up the entire bed. Surely they didn't buy all of this for me? Maybe only a couple of them are intended for me to own? I really hope that's the case because I don't have the money to pay them back for it all, and I'm not sure I can accept such generosity.

  "They're all yours, and they're gifts. We don't expect payment for them," Zayn tells me as he walks to the bed and stands beside a stack of three boxes.

  Spencer nudges me gently, making my feet move until I'm standing at the end of the bed, wide-eyed and baffled. Spencer steps up beside Zayn and says, "Anyway, it's mostly everything you need. Clothes, shoes, and things you'll use daily. We may have gone a little overboard, but we want you to have it all."

  Quietly, Zayn mumbles, "We've failed you once. We'd be failing you again if we didn't provide you with things you need now that you're free."

  Before I can respond, Nix and Ezra make their way into the room.

  "I've never been one to enjoy feeling left out, so we're gate-crashing this party," Nix says, grinning at us all before making his way over to the chair that's tucked under the desk.

  Ezra doesn't say a word, simply walking further into the room, sliding a few things across the comforter, and dropping onto the bed with all the grace of a dancer. Not a single thing falls or jostles.

  "Alright, now that we're all gathered in the same room, dive in, Novia. I want to see what these two bought you considering they're almost allergic to anything related to clothes shopping." Nix smirks at the vampire and mage, the latter directing his middle finger in Nix's direction.

  I'm suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. I don't want to rifle through bags upon bags, boxes and boxes of whatever it is they've bought. I appreciate that they've gone out of their way and spent a great deal of money on me, but I can't quite shift the uncomfortable feeling of having things bought for me.

  "That's not the intention. We don't want you to feel awkward," Zayn says, his voice soothing and calm. "How about we rifle th
rough the bags and pull out whatever lies in them. That way you can pick what you like and what you want to keep. Does that sound better?"

  In a strange way, it does. My discomfort ebbs away slowly, leaving only a flicker of uncertainty. "Okay, sure, yeah. We'll do that."

  Nix leaves the room quickly before returning with a deep wine-coloured bean bag and ushers me to sit in it. I fall into the cushioned seat with no finesse, but the others only find amusement in it when the bean bag almost swallows me whole.

  As soon as I'm comfortable, all four of the guys dive into the bags and boxes. Somehow, they’ve pegged my sizes, save for a few of the sweaters and shirts being a few sizes too big. They're the ones I've opted to keep because there's something to be said about a comfy oversized shirt or sweater. We've added chucks, ballet flats, snapback hats that match the ones Spencer wears on his head, and various other things, some not essential at all.

  After some time nodding my head to a variety of other items, I feel myself relaxing. Nix becomes more playful, holding up garments to his body and twirling every now and then.

  "Do you think this is my colour? Would it suit me?" he asks, his voice a higher octave than normal. He holds the soft pink sundress up to his chest and grips the bottom, lifting it until it fans out. He bends one of his legs and stands in an awkward pose, pouting his lips towards me, and it's all I can do not to topple out of my seat with the body wracking laughter that leaves me.

  Spencer shakes his head, looking deeply troubled. "That's definitely not your colour, bro. Try this one." He throws a baby blue coloured dress in his direction, and Nix poses all over again. With an amused grin, the mage says, "That's the one. That's definitely your colour."

  We go on like that for a while, joking and adding various things to the pile of clothing I've accepted, albeit somewhat reluctantly. It was only when Ezra pointed out the obvious to me that I decided having clothes of my own might not be a bad idea.