“No.”
“Are you always this serious and literal?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head and knew what I needed to do even if I didn’t like it.
“Come on. Let’s find you a house where you can at least shower and wash that bite.”
I looked around at the houses, wondering who would be willing to let a fey in. Probably another fey.
“This way,” Thallirin said, taking charge before I could decide a direction.
I followed him to Hannah and Emily’s house. It was a choice that surprised me until I saw Merdon standing outside, leaning against a tree in Hannah’s front yard.
“Hey, Merdon,” I said. “Do you—”
The door opened.
“Brenna!” Hannah called. “Come in here. You can help me.”
I tore my gaze from Merdon’s scowl and looked at Hannah as she swayed on her feet.
“What do you need help with?” I asked.
“Finishing this.” She held up a bottle of tequila, and I smiled.
“That’s perfect. Thanks, Hannah.” I looked at Thallirin. “Come on.”
He followed me to the house, and Hannah frowned at him.
“Are you going to poop on my party?” she asked, blocking the door.
“He won’t,” I said. “But he does need to use your shower. Is that okay?”
She shrugged.
“Sure. Come on in.”
She swept her arm aside and gestured for us to enter. The house felt toasty warm as I stepped in. Taking off my shoes, I looked around the space. There was a dining room table set up in the middle of the room with a chair pushed aside near the TV, which was playing a movie.
“How much do you want?” Hannah asked, holding up the bottle.
“At least a half a glass,” I said, smiling at her. “Thanks so much for inviting us in. Where’s the bathroom?”
She waved a hand down the hall then wandered in the direction of the kitchen.
“Go ahead and shower,” I said. “Call me when you’re done and dressed again. I’ll help you disinfect the bite.”
He glanced at me, then Hannah. I could see his shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath.
“Go ahead and say what you want to say,” I said.
“It is nothing.”
He walked away from me, and I stared after him. I didn’t like it when people hedged around what they wanted to say. Blunt honesty might hurt a little, but it took a lot of guesswork out of trying to figure out what people really meant by their long looks or sullen silences.
“Well, damn,” Hannah said. “How’d you get him to not be bossy? Because Merdon needs a lesson in shutting his mouth.”
I looked at Hannah as she wove her way toward me, a half-filled glass in one hand and the bottle in the other.
“That’s a pretty dress,” I said.
She looked down at her dress, and I gently removed the bottle from her grip while she was distracted.
“I haven’t worn anything pretty in ages,” I continued, fibbing. “Here, take a seat. I want to feel like a real person for a while. Do you mind if I pour myself a glass?”
“Go for it,” she said with a wave of her hand, the half-glass she was still holding for me already forgotten.
Hannah wasn’t the first drunk I’d manipulated. Before the quakes, Mom had occasionally gotten down on herself. It hadn’t happened since the quakes, but I figured it was more due to the scarcity of booze than an improvement in circumstances.
I went to Hannah’s kitchen and checked the cupboards for glasses. I found a cache of tequila bottles and a decent store of food.
“You have chips,” I called. “Wanna break them out?” They were the plain potato kind but better than nothing.
“Sure,” she said.
I poured myself half of a glass of tequila and grabbed a clean kitchen towel and the chips. Her eyes were closed when I returned to the table.
“Here’s the chips. Looks like you need a refresher. Let me add a little more to your glass.”
She opened her eyes to look at me as I took her drink and returned to the kitchen.
“So, where’s your roommate?” I asked, covering the noise of the running faucet as I filled a new glass with water. I set the alcohol aside, not wanting to waste it.
“Emily’s visiting James and Mary. The old people.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of James and Mary. Haven’t seen them much.”
“Nah, it’s too cold for them. And they’re too old to go out for supplies. The fey are good about getting stuff for them, though. James likes his scotch, but the fey can’t read. So, I trade him for whatever he doesn’t want.” Hannah let out a small snort, like she found that funny, before continuing. “Mya doesn’t know what the fey are bringing James and Mary. Even if she did, I doubt the fey would stop. Mary likes cooking for them. They always have a handful of fey over for dinner.”
“That sounds nice.” I came back to the table and set her drink down. “Try that with the chips. The chips will be saltier.”
I opened the bag and handed her a chip. She ate it and took a drink of her water and nodded.
“It’s good.”
“Have some more.” I took out a handful and munched happily while considering Hannah’s setup. She and Emily had it made. They had to be around my age and had a place of their own.
“What did you have to do to get your own house?” I asked.
“Watch my family die.” She ate another chip slowly and stared at the table. I wasn’t sure what to say to her, so I let the silence grow.
A door opened down the hall, and I looked up at Thallirin with relief. His dark, wet hair was pulled back from his neck, exposing the bite. It was hard to focus on the wound, though, when he wore no shirt. I took in the enormous breadth of his shoulders and chest. He’d always seemed too large and intimidating to me. Shirtless, he was more so. And I would have been freaking out about his motivation for the shirtlessness if I couldn’t see the reason for it with my own eyes. His torso was covered in bites, too.
“Damn,” Hannah said, looking at Thallirin. “You have more scars than Mary has wrinkles.”
Thallirin looked away, the tips of his ears darkening. The way his hand tightened on his shirt and how he shifted his weight spoke volumes. He was nervous, embarrassed, and considering running. The idea that the guy, who never seemed to experience any emotion other than anger, was feeling the same things I often felt around him was weird. It also tripped my guilt a little.
“Eat your chips, Hannah,” I said.
I stood, turned the chair, and gestured to the seat while looking at Thallirin.
“Unlike the infected, I won’t bite.”
He moved toward me, his steps measured like he was debating the wisdom of his decision.
“I think receiving the bites was the worst part,” I said, setting a consoling hand on his shoulder.
The skin under my palm radiated an insane amount of heat. So much that I slid my hand over his shoulder in awe.
He turned his head ever so slowly to look at me. A shiver ran through him. Too late, I understood the significance of what I’d done. While the fey willingly carried humans for supply runs, very rarely were the fey willingly touched by a human. And a woman’s touch was something they all dreamed of.