Chapter 24 #3
“I am sure the legends have their version.” He snaps his fingers and Dingle moves to his side.
I have to break into a jog to catch up, and my nearly destroyed shoes feel as if they’re going to fall off my feet. I drop to a knee, tighten the laces on both, and race after him again. “I’d rather hear your side of the story than any legend.”
Kalos is quiet for a long moment. His angry steps eventually slow and he glances over at me. “She used me.”
“I see.”
For a while, I think he’s not going to give me more than that.
Just when I’m about to give up hope, he continues.
“She made me think she cared, but she just wanted me to raise an army to fight for her, to take the lands she wanted. I thought she was a kindred spirit. I asked her to become my bride. She laughed in my face and told me she had what she wanted from me.”
His words are clipped, short. His body language is stiff as he walks, and he won’t look me in the eye.
I get the impression that Belara’s betrayal came from out of nowhere and left Kalos not only heartbroken but humiliated.
How much worse is it if you and your girlfriend are gods?
Everyone hears about the betrayal. And while Kalos likes to be handsome and likes nice clothes, he’s also rather private. “I’m sorry.”
“I should have guessed.” He shrugs. “Belara is mercenary above all else. Beauty is a power to be wielded, and she uses hers like a blade. All beauty has an edge to it.” Kalos glances over at me again, our eyes meeting briefly. “That’s what I like about you.”
I sputter. I know that with the right makeup and a good hair day, I can pass for “cute.” Right now, I’m very far from both, but I didn’t think he saw me as a hound dog. “Wow. Because I’m not pretty? Geez, thanks.”
“Because Belara’s beauty is on the surface and hides an ugly heart. Your beauty is not on the surface. Your hard edges are not cruelty, but determination.”
It’s a good save, I decide. “Fair enough.”
“And now I grow weary of talking of people I dislike and past events that matter only in history scrolls.” His tone takes on a bored edge. “You’re in charge of our journey. Where are we going next?”
I know a change of subject when I hear one.
I let it slide, though. There’s plenty of time to pry more tidbits out of my companion.
In fact, we have nothing but time. “We keep heading west, towards the Dirtlands and the place with no magic.” I pause, worried.
“You didn’t plague anyone back in the village, did you? ”
He gives another bored shrug. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Do we need to go back so you can check?”
Kalos scowls, his brows low over his eyes. “You make me crazed, you know that?”
“That’s not a no.” I pause walking and gesture back at the town just over the horizon. “I’m not going to leave a trail of dead in our wake, Kalos, just because you can’t remember to turn your powers off. Do we need to go back?”
He sighs heavily and turns around, heading back towards the village we just left, and that’s my answer.
After we walk through the village again, Kalos does something with his powers.
I don’t know what it is, but I sneeze and sneeze until we leave again, and he puts his cloak over my shoulders as I shiver with another fever.
Every time he uses his powers, it makes me sick.
I could ask him to heal me, but I worry if he uses his power too much, he’ll get on the radar, and we’ll both fail at our job.
So I just endure it as part of the whole ‘anchor’ thing.
We travel late into the night, until the moons go down and it gets too dark to see the road, even in the moonlight. We find a large tree with overhanging branches and Kalos takes my hand and leads me to it. “We’ll rest here until morning.”
“I can keep going,” I say, my nose completely stuffed up. “S’fine.”
He ignores my protest. “The road will be there tomorrow.”
We stumble through the dark until my free hand touches the broad trunk of the tree. I hear a rustle of fabric, and Kalos touches my shoulder. “Sit on my cloak. You need to rest.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you hate resting.”
“I hate it less with every day that passes, actually.” He sounds bemused, and when I’m comfortably seated, he joins me. To my surprise, he pulls me against him. “You can use me as a pillow.”
“Oh, it’s not necessary—”
“I know it is not. But these times end up being some of my favorite parts of the day. Humor me.”
My face gets hot in the darkness. Is he flirting with me?
Or am I just misreading his dry sense of humor?
It’s so hard to tell sometimes. It feels like flirting…
but he hasn’t tried to kiss me again. Then again, I haven’t brushed my teeth in a few days.
I’m not sure I’d want to kiss me either.
I run the tip of my tongue over my teeth and relax against his chest. “Thank you.”
“This isn’t for you. I’m selfish enough to admit that I’m fascinated with touching you, and I can’t seem to stop now that I’ve started.
This allows me to pet you to my heart’s content while you sleep.
It gives me enough that I can make it through the next day without grabbing you.
” His fingers trail down my sleeve, light and teasing.
Is it bad that I wouldn’t mind if he grabbed me a little?
I settle in against his chest and a moment later, his fingers brush along the line of my jaw, a gentle exploration that leaves me breathless.
Are we going somewhere with this, I wonder.
Or is he just toying with me? I think about the kiss he gave me back in Seth’s stronghold.
It didn’t feel like toying, yet we’ve gone nowhere since.
Is he waiting for me to make the first move?
How does one put the moves on a god anyhow?
I lick my lips, pondering. “Kalos?”
“Sleep, Elsie. That’s all I want from you in this moment. Sleep and we’ll talk about whatever you like in the morning.” His finger traces my earlobe.
Oh sure, like I can sleep when I’m getting new kinds of shivers in my body. The pleasant kind of shivers that zing between my thighs. “If you want me to sleep, then why are you touching me?”
“I told you. It’s because I’m selfish. Do you want me to stop?”
“…no.”
“Then sleep.” Cool fingertips skim down my neck, and he brushes my hair back from my face. “This is not me indicating I want sex. When I want it, you’ll know.”
I can’t decide if I’m miffed over that or not. Does he like me? Find me irresistible? Because I’m feeling rather resistible currently. Maybe he’s just fascinated by my mortal-ness. Maybe to him, this is like petting Dingle. He’s just stroking a beloved pet.
With that depressing thought, I shift my weight and press my cheek against his chest. Life was so much easier before we started kissing. I have no idea what we are now. Are we friends? Are we more? Or are we just going to ignore that we kissed for the rest of our lives?
Well, the rest of my life. That realization puts a damper on things.