Chapter Four
J ennika held the hands that walked her to the best seat available at the amphitheatre. The artists were talking to their families and waving at those who had arrived to watch the artist-versus-artist event.
Emhara had a sketchbook under one arm, and she looked around at the folks seated. She looked at their little party and grinned wide, running down the steps and over to them. Emhara smiled. “Oh, can I sketch you? I didn’t know there were so many of us. I mean, aside from Eudora.”
Emhara didn’t wait. She got a blank page out, and her pencil started moving fast. They made introductions while she sketched, and Emhara paused when she got to Vine. “Oh. You. Oh.”
“Sorry if I am wrecking the image. I can move if you like.”
“No. I just haven’t ever seen someone in that condition who wasn’t me.” Emhara smiled sadly. “You have recovered really well, considering.”
Jennika looked at the slight smile on Vine’s lips.
The hoarse voice said, “Thank you.”
Emhara grinned and looked at the image on her pad. She giggled. “This is going to be fun. Can I get my mates to take images of you?”
Ivy smiled. “You mean pictures?”
“Yes. Those.” Emhara grinned.
A dark elf showed up and took a few pictures of them. He glanced at Emhara and sighed. “She would also like your contact information. She’s building her collection of friends now that she is finally free.”
There was a chime, and the artists had to take their positions.
Vine pulled out a small stone and said, “Put this near the canvas. It will keep her energized and focused. It will also help with hydration.”
The man nodded, took the stone, and then stared at it. “What is in this?”
“A little of this, a little of that. Only one of the mages can actually use what comes out of it, so...” Vine chuckled, and it sounded like a smoker’s cough.
The man looked alarmed. “Are you ill?”
“Old injury.”
Jennika took her hand and squeezed it. Vine squeezed back.
Sable was toying with her necklace, and Jenn was carrying a spare. Vine could fix the first while the second was being worn.
The crowd was filling half the spaces, and the website was up and ready to accept donations for the different charities that were selected by the artists.
Amble had chosen a young artists program, and Emhara had selected a domestic violence shelter that focused on education and outfitting their clients for life on their own.
Jennika knew where her money was going.
The announcer was explaining which mediums were being used and the theme, and the two artists shook hands, went to their canvases, and waited for the signal.
A bottle of water appeared over her shoulder, and Jennika took it. “Thank you.”
She looked left and right, and her friends were grinning at her. It took some doing, but she turned around and saw Xiroth and four more dark elves, who shopped at the same clothing store for thugs.
“How can you guys be so big and still fly?” Jennika asked.
Xiroth grinned. “Sheer talent.”
The three that were obviously pixies chuckled. The fourth was looking intent but wasn’t a pixie.
Jennika was going to speak, but the chime rang to start the artists. She whipped around and watched Emhara with some charcoal, roughing out two figures.
Jennika smiled. “The suspense is killing me.”
The artists were at work, and the food trucks were open for business. Jenn was unsurprised when she was lifted and settled on Xiroth’s lap. He kissed her temple and pressed his hand to her belly. The baby started kicking hard.
The pixies were staring at her. She looked at them and sighed. “Yes, you can feel him kick.”
They shifted close, one by one. The huge hands felt the baby greeting them, and the guys all grinned, one by one. They all said the same thing. “Thank you, little mother.”
She snorted. “Not that little?”
Without turning, Vine said, “They each outweigh you by a hundred pounds. And are at least a foot taller. You are little.”
The odd elf moved to sit next to Vine. Ivy was on her other side, so she was pinned.
Jennika watched the male lean in to speak to her, and she hoped that this wouldn’t end in disaster.
* * * *
K azuya sat next to Vine, and she knew what he was going to ask.
“How long have you been hoarse?” He asked it coolly, like he was getting stats to work on
“Fifteen years. It isn’t hoarse; it’s the only voice I have left.” She kept her tone low.
“I have a spa and treatment centre where you could come in for assessment.”
“I have been. It wasn’t particularly useful.”
He paused. “What?”
“I went in five months ago and was told that my appointment with you had been cancelled. There was a hotter, younger woman waiting to see you. So, I went to the spa, had a hot soak, and went home. Nice hot tubs, by the way.”
He frowned. “A hot soak wouldn’t help your throat.”
“No. It wouldn’t.”
“What other difficulties do you have?”
“Look, I know that Xiroth asked you to be here. He was mad enough that he might have cursed you out, but I don’t want to do this here. I don’t want to do this ever again. I worked up the nerve for it once, and I haven’t gotten the nerve back.”
“I can help.”
“You probably can, but I can’t accept the help.” She looked at him, and for a heartbeat, she dropped her glamour. She reset her awkward beta appearance and looked over at the food trucks. “You came today, and I thank you for trying, but I am tired. Very tired.”
She patted Ivy and asked, “Did you want anything?”
“Fries and BBQ.”
She looked to Sable. “Meaty meat with extra meat?”
“You know me so well.”
Vine got up, inclined her head toward the elf healer, and walked slowly through the aisles and over to the food trucks.
She paid the deposit for a tray, as this was going to be a long event, then ordered food and beverages for her friends and loaded them onto the tray.
She tapped her earring and said, “Ivy. Ready for incoming?”
“Ready.”
The tray and cargo disappeared and reappeared on the long bench.
She slowly walked back to her seat. Walking frequently was part of controlling the pain.
She needed to move around at least once an hour.
Going for food or drink or helping Jennika to the bathroom was part of keeping the agony under control.
Kazuya was at her side. “May we talk more?”
She sighed and pointed away from the seating area. “It is easier for me if I walk.”
“Really?”
“The pain creates endorphins, and the endorphins fight the pain.”
“Right. May I help you?”
“Thank you but no. I need to balance this way. It’s gross to see, but it’s how I get around.”
“What happened?”
“I was kidnapped for ransom when I was thirteen. I escaped once, so they pinned me down and ran over my legs with a car. Twice. That is where my voice broke.” She continued her slow, uneven walk.
“When the ransom was paid, why didn’t you receive the proper care?”
“The ransom was never paid. I wrapped my legs in vines and crawled to one of the vehicles and drove myself to the police station, where I screamed until someone came out to me. By that point, my legs had been infected for two weeks. I was young and growing, so the shattered bones had begun to heal in the wrong ways. My parents allowed basic repair, but none of the other six surgeries were performed.”
She paused while he absorbed what she was saying.
He caught up with her. “My assistant...”
“Said you had more important clients that day and that my appointment had been cancelled. I booked it under my legal name. Apricot Lane.” She gave him the date and time. “I just wanted to know if anything could be done. I haven’t shown anyone my legs in years.”
“Bone pierced the skin?”
“Everywhere. And then stitches upon stitches all under the casts.”
“Was it financing?”
“The lack of response? No. My parents didn’t want another omega in the family. My sister died when I was eleven. She died in childbirth, and her pack was rough, so she wasn’t in great shape when she finally had her baby.”
He stopped again and stared. “She hemorrhaged to death.”
“Yup. And nobody noticed. Our family wasn’t allowed in the room, and they were busy admiring their son. She just died without anyone watching.”
He rubbed his face. “And they considered your disfiguring to be a boon.”
“Correct.”
Kazuya looked at her legs. “Can I see a little of the scarring?”
“You want me to flash all kinds of ankle.”
He knelt next to her. “Please.”
She sighed and pulled up the leg of her jeans, “You are on your own with the sock.”
He chuckled and eased the sock down. He touched the scars, and pain shot through her. He looked up at her. “It hurts?”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry. This is much more complicated than I had anticipated.”
“I get it. You can’t do anything.” Vine shrugged.
“I did not say that, but this is something more involved than the spa can offer.”
“Okay. At least we know.”
“I can still heal you, but it will be a little more involved.” He had a serious expression.
“That sounds complicated.”
“It is very basic, but I have to shift shape for it, and there may be mucus involved.”
“Wow. Better and better.”
He smiled. “You aren’t nervous about it?”
She shrugged. “My nerves are on fire, my skin hurts, my bones ache, and the rest of my body compensates with twisted muscle. Mucus doesn’t scare me.”
“It will need to be gradual. The damage is extreme.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
She saw the flicker in his eyes as her voice rasped the single word. Singles were always worse than talking. It was like her scarred voice had to start over every time she paused.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Uh, probably making some protection charms.” She smiled. “How is that crystal display working in your lobby? It’s some of my better work.”
He smoothed her jeans down carefully and rose to his feet. “You created that array?”