Chapter Twenty-Eight
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IT WASN’T BORING AT all watching Arkas carve the image he saw in his mind during the next few hours. Oaklie was mesmerized watching his talented hands delicately chip small pieces of wood into the wastebasket.
“Don’t go quite so deep,” she murmured as he was shaping a thin branch. It would snap if he added any more pressure to it.
“It’s too thin now,” Arkas said in dismay. “It won’t be able to hold the flower I wanted to carve.”
“I can fix that,” she offered and reached over to touch the chunk of wood.
Her fingers brushed against his and his entire body tensed.
He casually lifted his right knee higher to hide his instant reaction to her.
Their sexual tension was off the charts just from that brief touch.
Concentrating on her task, Oaklie tried to will away her own desire for this hulking warrior sitting right beside her.
“That should help,” she said, adjusting the thickness of the branch he was working on.
“Thanks,” he said in a slightly husky voice. “That’s much better.”
“I’m going to take a lunchbreak,” she said to give him time to gain control of his raging hormones. “I’ll use a bathroom in one of the other rooms,” she added. She’d already used the bathroom here and couldn’t flush a tank that didn’t hold any water.
“Make sure you lock the door securely, female,” Arkas reminded her.
“I will,” she said with an eyeroll. She couldn’t decide if his overprotectiveness was endearing or annoying. Considering how much danger lurked around these days, she opted for endearing.
Her magic unlocked the door and she entered the room next door.
The cambion dutifully fused the wood so no one could get in, then used the bathroom.
She was tempted to put her hair up, but didn’t.
Arkas was fascinated with her hair. It was stupid, but she wanted to make him smile, even if it was over something as trivial as this.
“It’s not like we have anything else to smile about,” she murmured as she headed back to their room.
The wind intensified and she glanced out through the hallway window.
She stopped when she saw a truck cruising slowly towards the motel.
The windows and windshield had been smashed.
The occupants were shielding themselves from the deluge as best they could.
“Arkas!” she called out, but he’d already sensed them.
The warrior appeared next to her, peering through the window as well. “They appear to be a family,” he said.
“Is that a little girl sitting on the passenger’s lap?” Oaklie asked incredulously.
Arkas nodded grimly. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
Oaklie knew only bad people were left now. The child was young, but she must have a black or gray soul already. “We have to let them in,” she said. “I won’t be able to live with myself if we leave them out in this storm.”
Arkas heaved a silent sigh and didn’t seem surprised. “They’ve parked next to our truck,” he said, hearing the engine cut out. “You’ll need to unlock the side door.”
He darted into their room to grab his rifle. Oaklie’s power unfused the wooden frame from the door to allow the strangers entry.
“Do you think it’s safe in there?” the woman asked in a fearful voice.
“It’s got to be safer than drowning in the rain in our truck,” her husband replied bleakly.
“Their souls are gray,” Arkas said in a low voice. “Their daughter’s is not.”
“Yeah, I figured,” the artist said with a grimace.
The door opened and the father entered, holding a rifle. He stopped to stare at them warily. “Is that your truck?” he asked, jerking his head at their ride.
“It is,” Arkas confirmed. “Yours seems to be pretty beaten up by the storm.”
“Goddamn hail,” the man said bitterly, utterly soaked to his skin. “I’ve never seen it this bad before,” he added, eyeing them both suspiciously.
“We took shelter here last night,” Oaklie said, smiling at the mom when she peered over her husband’s shoulder. “We planned to leave early this morning, but the storm had other ideas.”
“Is it safe here?” the woman asked. Both she and her husband were only a few years older than Oaklie. It was obvious they’d faced hard times even before the Rapture from their threadbare clothes and the strained lines on their faces.
“We won’t attack you without provocation,” Arkas said. “You’re welcome to choose any of the rooms at the far end of the hallway.”
“Thanks,” the husband said, making no move to allow his family inside yet. “We’ll come in as soon as the hallway is clear.”
The little girl stretched up until Oaklie could see her.
With her blonde hair, flawless skin and cherubic face, she should have looked as pretty as a doll.
Her empty blue eyes made her as creepy as hell.
Her soul wasn’t gray, it was black. “We’ll be moving on as soon as the hail stops,” Oaklie said, nudging Arkas to return to their room.
“So will we,” the dad said.
Arkas shielded Oaklie with his body as they entered their room. He shut the door and she fused it from their side, leaving the outline of the cracks on the other side.
“I like them,” the little girl said in a too sweet voice. “I want to play with that lady’s long hair.”
“Not now, sweetie,” her mom said as they quickly hurried further down the hallway.
“But I want to!” the kid shouted in rage.
“Not so loud,” her dad said, hushing her as he opened a door. “They could be bad people, honey,” he admonished her.
“You’re bad people!” his daughter exclaimed. “I hate you!”
“So much for our peaceful art lesson,” Arkas said with a frown.
“That kid is pure evil,” Oaklie said, suppressing a shiver. “Her folks don’t seem so bad. I wonder why she turned out to be so horrible.”
“Some people are just born that way, like your adopted brother,” the knight said. “I have a feeling we’ll need to stay on our toes until the storm finally passes.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” the cambion said, uneasiness growing by the second. “I really hope the storm ends soon so we can leave this place.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high, female,” Arkas warned her. “The rain and hail show no signs of abating yet.”
They resumed their art lesson, but their comfortable, flirtatious vibe was now gone. Arkas’ face was grim as he continued whittling with her giving him tips.
“I need to rest,” the mom said from the end of the hall. “Can you watch over her?”
“Yeah,” her husband replied, sounding just as weary. “I’ll wake you in a few hours,” he said.
Oaklie and Arkas could hear them even above the storm. “They’re taking turns sleeping in shifts,” Arkas said. “They clearly don’t trust their daughter.”
“Can you blame them?” Oaklie asked. The brat had gone to sleep a couple of hours ago, but she’d whined constantly while she’d been awake.
Leaving the bed, Oaklie walked over to the window. The clouds hadn’t shifted, but the hail seemed smaller and less dense. The rain was still hammering down. “I think it’s going to stop hailing soon,” she said, mentally crossing her fingers. She just wanted to get the hell out of this motel.
Arkas was about to respond when they heard a thump in the room at the end of the hallway. It was followed by an indrawn breath and a pained gasp. There was a gurgling noise, then a quiet giggle of insane glee.
Meeting Oaklie’s stricken eyes, the knight shook his head. “The father fell asleep,” he surmised. “His daughter just murdered them both.” They’d vanished from their radars.
“Why?” Oaklie asked, horrified that someone so small had just killed two people. “Surely she knows she’s too young to survive on her own?”
They heard a door open, then the light pad of footsteps. “She believes she won’t be alone for long,” Arkas said grimly.
“Hello?” the little girl called out from the other side of their door. “My mommy and daddy got sick and died,” she said in an emotionless voice. “Can you take care of me now?”
“Oh, God!” Oaklie groaned, putting her hands over her face in anguish. “This is too much!” she protested.
“I’ll take care of it, my cambion,” Arkas said gently. “Open the door for me, female.”
With a sick feeling of dread, Oaklie let her power slide into the doorframe.
Arkas strode over to open the door. The little girl’s sweater and jeans were splattered with blood.
She’d tried to wipe her hands clean on them, leaving red streaks behind.
A few red blooddrops were scattered across her face.
“I got my hands dirty,” she said, holding them up.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, little one,” Arkas said, bending to scoop her into his arms. He walked to the next room down the passageway and entered it.
Oaklie couldn’t see what was going on in the motel room right next door, but she could hear it.
“I’m going to take away your pain now,” Arkas said to her.
There was a sickening crunching noise, then Oaklie felt the black soul fade to nothingness. A sob burst from her before she could stop herself.
Arkas was standing in front of her a moment later, staying a few inches away. “Do you despise me now, Oaklie?” he asked, voice sounding vulnerable.
“No,” she refuted and stepped forward to put her arms around him.
“You did what I couldn’t do,” she said, weeping for the doomed young family.
He hugged her back and she felt his sigh of apparent relief.
One hand went to the small of her back to hold her to him.
The other smoothed up and down her long hair, soothing them both.