Chapter 2 #2
“It sure looks like it.” I bite my lip, caught in indecisiveness. My fingers brush against the soft, luxurious fabric as I caress the skirt of the dress. It won’t hit lower than my knees, which feels far too short.
Letting the dress slip through my fingers, I turn away, deciding to shower first. When I step back out a short while later, I notice Malakai has picked out my clothes and placed them on the chair in the bathroom.
It’s the dress I was eyeing, a matching set of underwear, a short jacket, and a pair of heels.
An older memory stings in the back of my head, of another time and place.
Another man and the hold he had over me and every single aspect of my old life.
I have to shake my head to make it go away, to clear my mind before it drags me down.
I can see this as a way to control me, or it can be the push I need to try something new.
I slip into the clothes and examine myself in the mirror. The dress is as scandalous as I thought it would be—or at least it is by my standards.
“You look gorgeous,” Malakai says when I return to the bedroom.
He’s adjusting his tie as I walk in, wearing a dark suit that makes him look dangerously handsome. His fingers fidget with the fabric before he ultimately throws the tie aside, leaving the top button of his dress shirt unfastened.
Despite the urge to tear off his clothes, anger bubbles inside me. “What’s the meaning of this?” I poke him in the chest.
Malakai catches my finger and kisses it. “The meaning of what?”
He knows exactly what I mean. I see it in his eyes, in his smile. His skin is the color of honey, warm and radiant, just as it was in the beginning—before I broke his glamor. “You promised no more glamor.”
“I know, but I can’t exactly run around with red skin, can I?” He kisses my forehead and places a hand on the small of my back. “I’ll let you tear it off when we get back, though,” he whispers, his voice deep and rough.
My toes curl in my shoes, and I’m thankful he can’t tell. Or at least I think so, because the way his fingers draw circles on my back might suggest otherwise.
“You’ll have to cover these up.” Malakai touches the markings on my arms, placing a glamor over them.
“It doesn’t feel like freedom this way.”
“I find it a small price to pay.” His voice is cold, and I know he’s right. I have no real reason to complain. Biting my lip, I feel a wave of overwhelming emotions I can’t quite place.
We stand outside the front door, wearing coats against the autumn breeze chilling my skin.
The sun breaks through the clouds, wrapping us in a warm glow.
I glance at Malakai, standing beside me with his eyes closed and head tilted back slightly.
For a moment, I’m taken aback by how happy he looks, how human, and my chest aches.
“You have no idea how amazing it is to feel the sun, knowing you’re finally free. To be out here, no strings attached,” he says, a meaningful smile gracing his lips.
“If you don’t watch out, I’m going to start thinking you’re nothing but a big softie,” I tease, nudging him, laughter ringing through my voice.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He grins.
“Not really, to be honest,” I admit with a shrug, surprising him. “I prefer the asshole I know you to be—a demon over an angel.” I walk toward the sidewalk and turn to face him. “Freedom better not be making you soft, or I’m going to be very disappointed.”
He blinks at me for a few seconds, taken aback by my words. Then his smile returns as he says, “Don’t worry about it, love. I won’t let you down.”
He stands beside me and offers his arm, which I gratefully accept. The sight of his honey-colored skin takes some getting used to, making me realize how normal his red skin has become for me.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we walk down the street.
“Nowhere in particular, just stretching our legs before the family comes over tonight.”
“What?” Panic creeps into my voice, and Malakai squeezes my hand reassuringly.
“The human one,” he clarifies.
Though that isn’t much reassurance.
“Perhaps we should pick up groceries while we’re at it,” he says absently.
“Groceries? They’re staying for dinner? I’m cooking?”
“I’m cooking.”
“You can cook?” I can’t help the tone of surprise in my voice.
“Very well, even.”
I’m baffled, and his eyes sparkle with amusement. “It will be a dinner party.”
“We really are rich, then.” I gasp, raising a hand in mock surprise.
My reaction seems to amuse him greatly, evident by the twinkle in his golden eyes.
But as we stroll around the neighborhood, a feeling of unease creeps in.
I wanted nothing but revenge and freedom.
Now I have both, and it still feels like something is missing—like I’m forgetting something.
Frustratingly enough, I can’t shake it or name it.
The absurdity of the situation strikes me when we enter a supermarket a few blocks from the house.
Malakai, walking the streets like anyone else, standing in a supermarket choosing wine and carefully picking out meat and vegetables.
Not letting go of my hand for a single second, as if he’s afraid I might vanish if he does.
With my silver-white hair brimming with magic begging to be set free, I stand among humans who go about their day, blissfully unaware of who walks among them. Not only us, but all the inhumans that apparently roam this earth.
“You’re going to have to try harder to blend in, Elly. You almost radiate magic.” Malakai’s voice snaps me from my thoughts.
He’s right; I’ve been so distracted I hadn’t noticed my magic was running wild, crackling at my fingertips.
“Is that what this is? Blending in?” My voice is soft, almost a whisper, as we stand at the cash register.
Malakai pays for our items and picks up the bag as we walk out. “It is. You might not have noticed, but we attract plenty of attention as it is.”
It’s only then that I do notice it. Soft whispers and eyes following us wherever we go.
“Though they don’t know why, humans take notice of us. It’s the power we hold, something they crave without even realizing it. The same power your father wanted so badly he was willing to trade you for it.”
Listening to the voices around us, I know he’s right. The way they whisper about us, their words laced with awe and jealousy.
“Both humans and inhumans are drawn to us, to the more powerful among our kind, because of this. The difference is humans don’t realize what they’re bargaining for. This makes them quicker to overstep in an attempt to claim it for themselves.”
“And inhumans have more self-control?”
“Not necessarily, but at least they know what they’re getting into.”
“Your siblings…” Malakai flinches slightly. “Do they also attract this kind of attention?”
“They do.”
I sense I won’t get more out of him, so I don’t inquire further for now. Family seems to be a difficult subject for both of us.
After unpacking our groceries, Malakai sets to preparing dinner.
Part of me is curious to see him cook, but another part craves solitude.
Exploring the park across the street seems like the perfect opportunity.
I mumble something, exchange my jacket for my cloak, and step outside.
I pull the hood over my head and cross the street, hoping to find some peace.
The entire park is gated off, with an entrance conveniently placed right in front of our house. Stepping through the gate, I immediately feel cut off from the outside world. There are wards in place. The park is peaceful and quiet, just the way I like it.
I release a breath, and tension slips away as I follow a path deeper inside.
Only the hushed rustling of trees and bushes and the fluttering of birds fill the air.
I even see a few squirrels running around, the fluffy little rodents managing to bring a small smile to my face.
Yes, I’m definitely going to enjoy living here.
Eventually, I find a bench I like, situated under a tree and overlooking a pond. I sit down, close my eyes for a moment, and lean back, taking a deep breath as my body relaxes.
My eyes snap open when a cold blade presses against my neck. An even colder voice hisses in my ear, “I’d like my dagger back before I kill you.”
“Sure, let me go and get it for you.” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice, annoyed at how this moment of peace has been stolen from me.
The bounty hunter pushes her blade harder against my skin, keeping me from moving. “Very funny. I’ll get it back afterward.”
“After what?”
“Are you stupid? After I kill you, witch.”
The knife cuts me slightly, the soft trickle of blood enough to push me into action.
The bounty hunter must see it and realize her mistake, because I feel her tense behind me, likely remembering what I can do with just a little bit of blood.
She manages to pull the blade away fast enough to avoid getting her face torn off.
Instead, my spell rips up the trunk of the tree behind her.
She bristles as I stand and turn around, just in time to see her charge at me.
My protection spell catches the blade of her sword, halting her in her tracks.
She unfurls her wings and uses them to swipe at my feet.
Nearly falling onto the grass, I barely manage to spin out of reach of her sword next.
“You’re faster than before,” the bounty hunter notes dryly, exchanging her sword for a short sword.
I respond with a grin that she clearly doesn’t appreciate.
“I wasn’t initially tasked to kill you. But you took my dagger, and now it’s personal,” she snarls.
“You threw it at me while trying to kill me.” I go on the offensive and send an attack spell her way.