Danny snored softly beside her. He’d conked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. She could admit she was jealous of that, but she was glad to know he was safe and resting soundly. She was glad Merrick was allowing them to stay, even if it was only for one night.
Merrick.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the man, couldn’t stop thinking about how it’d felt when they’d touched. Dealing with him had been like riding a roller coaster that was so rusted and worn it could collapse at any moment; she wasn’t sure how to feel about him. The first impression he’d made—while justified—certainly hadn’t helped anything. He was a mystery. One moment he’d wanted them gone, and the next, he’d wanted them to stay. He’d thrown a fit about them eating his food only to offer them fresh produce a few minutes later. She had a feeling he would’ve given them more if they’d asked.
But even if her emotions concerning him were jumbled and confused, she couldn’t deny that looking at him and touching him had roused something powerful in her.
Desire.
Adalynn lifted her hand off the bed and looked at her palm. They’d exchanged such a simple touch, yet it had evoked a sensation so thrilling that it still lingered on her skin. And her denial didn’t change the fact—he had been flirting with her. There’d been heat in his eyes as he looked upon her, a teasing twist to his lips.
Maybe he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be.
Sighing, she closed her eyes, attempted to push those thoughts away, and willed sleep to come.
It didn’t.
She turned onto her side, facing Danny.
Come on. Sleep!
She released a heavy, frustrated breath. When she inhaled, she caught a whiff of body odor—and she knew it wasn’t just Danny’s.
Thankfully, that helped turn her thoughts away from Merrick. She focused on how odd it was to be lying on a comfortable bed with clean, soft bedding, on how restrictive her clothing felt, on how filthy and stinky she was. All of that tumbled through her mind in an endless loop, each thought gaining strength every time it came around again.
She and Danny were likely staining Merrick’s sheets with dirt and sweat.
When her next breath renewed her awareness of the smell, Adalynn tossed the covers off and quietly slipped out of the bed. She glanced back at her brother; he slept undisturbed.
Why had this not bothered her before?
Because it didn’t matter. We were always on the road, in a car, on the run, too preoccupied or too terrified to notice or care about personal hygiene. Now, we’re in a fancy home, lying in a fancy bed, with fancy, clean sheets, and it all belongs to a sexy—
No, Addy! Not supposed to be thinking about him right now!
But it was hard not to; the house itself reminded her of Merrick. It was old, out of its time—and even though he didn’t look older than thirty-five or forty, she somehow had the same sense about him.
Everything here was so amazing, and in impossibly good condition. Hell, there was running water in this house. Nowhere else they’d stopped had had running water thanks to the lack of electricity. She and Danny had been taking water from rivers and streams over the last few weeks, filtering and boiling it as thoroughly as possible.
Running water.
She straightened. Merrick had shown them a bathroom down the hall and had said they were free to use it as necessary—so long as they cleaned up after themselves. And there’d been a tub in there, one of those old-fashioned, claw-footed tubs. Even if the water was cold, it would feel good to finally be clean. A dip and a quick scrub down in a stream wasn’t the same.
Anticipation thrummed in her.
She looked at Danny. He’d been a magnet for dirt even before the Sundering, and probably needed a bath even more than she did, but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. The bed was likely soiled by now, anyway. He’d just have to bathe before they left in the morning. She’d make sure of it.
Adalynn picked up her pack, made her way across the room, and slipped into the hallway, closing the door softly behind her. She paused; everything was silent except for the occasional creaking bough and gust of wind from outside—but this wasn’t the sort of oppressive silence so common beyond these walls, wasn’t the silence of a dead world. This was almost…comforting.
Without bothering to take out her flashlight—her eyes had adjusted adequately to the darkness—she walked to the bathroom. Once she was inside, she set her bag down and crouched beside it, unzipping a small pouch in front. Merrick had said there were candles in most rooms, so she assumed there was at least one in here.
She took out her lighter, stood up, and flicked it on. It didn’t take long to find a candle; there were at least a dozen scattered around the room—at the sink, on a high shelf, in a small cut-out nook, and along the windowsill. It was like something out of a movie.
The perfect romantic bathroom.
Adalynn could just imagine the glow those candles would emit, could imagine sinking down into that clawfoot tub with it full of steaming, hot water and a mountain of bubbles.
But those luxuries were gone. Perhaps, one day, things would get back to that…though it wouldn’t be in her lifetime.
She wasn’t about to complain—even if she didn’t have the hot water and bubbles, she had running water and candles. She didn’t have to overindulge to appreciate what was available.
She lit two candles—one on the sink counter, the other on the windowsill near the tub. After putting her lighter away, she plugged the tub and turned the left knob all the way up. Water blasted from the faucet.
As the bathtub filled, Adalynn undressed, pausing once her shirt was off to give the garment a narrow-eyed, disgusted sneer. It was stained with dirt and sweat. She couldn’t suppress a groan when she lifted it to her nose and sniffed; it stank. She couldn’t begin to guess at the thoughts that must’ve run through Merrick’s head when he’d first seen Adalynn and Danny—when he’d smelled them.
Maybe he was being polite. She doubted he would’ve have held his tongue otherwise.
She’d just have to wash her clothes after her bath and hang them up overnight. Danny’s wouldn’t have time to dry, but at least she could clean them in the morning.
She tossed her shirt onto the floor beside the tub. Unbuttoning her jeans, she hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband and shoved her pants and underwear down, tossing them atop her shirt. Her bra followed. Finally, she reached up, pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, and slipped it over her wrist. She shook her hair out; it felt dirty, greasy, and tangled.
It’ll be so nice to feel clean again.
Dropping her arms to her sides, Adalynn stepped closer to the tub and braced herself for the shock of cold.
Best to just get in the water fast and get it over with. Just like we used to do a when we went swimming.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped in quickly and dropped down into the water—only to scream and leap back out, stumbling and slamming against the wall, knocking over a couple candles and toppling a low shelf in the process.
Panting, limbs shaking, she stared at the tub in shock as a stinging pain—made worse because it was so unexpected—swept over her flesh and radiated through her body.
The water was hot.
Merrick curled his fingers in his hair, tugging on the thick strands. He sat leaning forward, elbows on the desk, staring down at the book lying open before him—a latter translation of ancient documents pertaining to beasts lurking within mankind. About monsters dormant in human blood, their essences diluted over millennia of interbreeding. If there was useful information in the text, it was currently lost on him.