16. Chapter 16 The Announcement
Liv took the stairs slower than usual, which was odd because Liv didn’t take anything slowly.
She usually went up steps two at a time, bounced through doorways, and moved like she’d forgotten that walking was supposed to be a controlled activity.
Tonight she climbed each step with care, one hand on the railing, her weight shifting with the precision of someone managing a specific tenderness between her thighs.
She’d asked for it. She’d looked at me in the clinic and said she wanted to walk funny and she’d gotten exactly what she’d ordered.
Her ears were high and loose and she was glowing.
I followed her up. The coal-pot’s warmth met us at the landing. The door was cracked open, lamplight spilling through the gap, and the low sound of conversation came from inside. Bjorna’s voice, steady and deep, saying something about provisions. Nott’s quieter answer was underneath.
Liv pushed the door open and walked in.
Bjorna was at the trestle table with her back to the wall, a mug in one hand and a list of some kind on the table in front of her.
Nott sat beside her with a book open, not reading it, her dark eyes tracking whatever Bjorna was talking about.
Sif had her back against the east window frame, cross-legged, a dagger across her knees and a whetstone in her hand.
Three heads turned when we came in. Sif’s eyes went to Liv first, and her hand stopped moving on the whetstone.
“Why are you walking like that?”
Liv crossed the room without answering and lowered herself onto the far end of the bench with a care that was impossible to miss. She sat down like a woman lowering herself onto a trophy.
“Liv.” Sif set the dagger on the windowsill. “Why are you walking like you just rode a horse for six hours?”
“You know I didn’t ride a horse.”
“No, you rode something else.” Sif looked at me. I closed the door behind me and found a lot to look at on the coat hooks. “Daniel, what did you do to this woman?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. She left this apartment walking normally and she came back walking like she spent the evening doing something extremely physical with a man who doesn’t know his own strength.”
“She’s exaggerating,” I said. “Liv’s fine. She’s just tired.”
“I’m not exaggerating and she’s not tired. Look at her face. That’s not a tired face. That’s a ‘he did exactly what I asked him to do and it was fantastic’ face.” Sif pointed at Liv. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Liv picked up a cushion from the bench and put it under herself before she settled back. She did this in front of everyone without a trace of embarrassment.
“You’re not wrong,” Liv said.
Sif clapped her hands together. “I knew it. Where did it happen?”
“The clinic.”
Sif’s eyes went wide and she turned to me. “The clinic? You had sex in the clinic? On the healing table?”
“Among other surfaces,” Liv said.
“Among other surfaces,” Sif repeated. She covered her mouth with one hand, her blue eyes bright above her fingers. “Daniel, you absolute animal. People go there for healing, and you turn it into your personal sex dungeon.”
“It wasn’t like that. The clinic was closed.”
“The clinic was closed and then you opened up shop for a different kind of service.” Sif pulled her hand down and her grin took up most of her face. “Bjorna, are you hearing this? They defiled the examination table.”
Bjorna took a drink from her mug. “I heard.”
“You don’t seem shocked.”
“I’m not shocked. They’ve been giving each other looks all week. Something was going to break.” Bjorna set the mug down and looked at Liv, then at me. A small smile sat at the corner of her mouth. “Was the table sturdy enough? It’s not built for two.”
“It held up,” Liv said. “Barely. One of the legs is a little wobbly now.”
“You broke the clinic table,” Sif said. “You broke the table where people come to get healed. You broke it with your ass.”
“I didn’t break it with my ass. Daniel broke it with his enthusiasm.”
I chuckled. “My enthusiasm was normal. Your requests were not normal.”
Liv grinned at me. “They were perfectly normal. I just wanted a lot of them.”
“A lot of what?” Sif leaned forward with both hands on her knees. “What did you request, Liv? Be specific.”
“I’m not being specific. You’ll hear about it through the wall eventually.”
Sif threw her hands up. “Through the wall. Through the wall she says. Like I’m supposed to wait for the next performance.”
Nott had not moved from her spot next to Bjorna. She sat with her hands folded on the table and her eyes fixed on a point somewhere between me and the far wall. The color in her cheeks was faint but visible, pink at the edges of her pale skin.
“Nott is pretending she can’t hear us,” Sif said.
“I can hear you fine. I’m choosing not to participate.”
“She’s choosing not to participate. While blushing.”
Nott unfolded her hands and refolded them. Sif laughed and turned back to Liv.
“So. Details. Don’t leave anything out. How rough are we talking? Because the way you’re sitting on that cushion tells me the answer is very.”
Liv glanced in my direction. I shook my head, but I was smiling. She turned back to Sif.
“I asked him to make me feel it tomorrow.”
“And?”
“I’m feeling it tonight. I’ll probably feel it through the week.” Liv stretched her legs out and winced when she shifted her hips. She wore the wince like other women wear new earrings. “I told him I wanted to walk funny and he delivered. Multiple times.”
“Multiple times. Gods, Daniel.” Sif pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees, settling in for the story. “How many is multiple?”
“Like a lot.”
“A lot? That must be a high number. And all this after a full day.”
“It wasn’t really after a full day. We were already in the mood.” Liv’s ears swiveled toward me and a grin cut across her face. “Something happened before the clinic that got us both going.”
“Something happened before the clinic,” Sif repeated. Her voice shifted, curiosity sharpening under the amusement. “What kind of something?”
Liv’s eyes found mine. I turned to Bjorna.
“Something happened tonight,” I said. “When we left the clinic after my shift. A cat girl named Elin came in for healing. She had been robbed and beaten by a human.”
The room’s energy changed. Sif stopped grinning. Bjorna set her mug down and the ceramic hit the table harder than she probably meant it to.
“I went to the guard station to report Elin’s mugging because she was afraid to,” I said.
“The watch captain, a man called Fenrik, took my statement but told me nothing would come of it. No victim present, no formal complaint, just hearsay from a third party. He basically told me to move on with my life.”
“That’s not surprising,” Sif said. Her voice had dropped the banter register entirely. “The watch doesn’t take beastkin reports seriously even when the beastkin shows up. A human reporting on behalf of one is a footnote.”
“I figured as much.” I sat down at the table across from Bjorna. “So Liv and I walked to the docks after.”
Bjorna set her mug down. “Why did you go there?”
“I went to the south quay. Found the guy, Vaughn Strom, on the docks with five or six dock workers and a barge master unloading crates. I kindly introduced myself. I extended my hand for a handshake.”
The room was quiet. Sif had uncurled and was sitting forward, her feet on the floor.
“He took your hand,” Bjorna said.
“I did it nicely.”
“And then what? Did you become his friend?”
I held her gaze. “Not exactly. I cast [Smite].”
Nobody said anything for three full seconds. Sif broke the silence.
“Through a handshake?”
“I held his hand and let it work. It started with the injuries he gave Elin. Cracked ribs, split lip, black eye. Then it went past that. Broken bones. Teeth. I crushed his hand. He was on the ground with blood coming out of his mouth and I was standing over him talking in my kind healer voice.”
“Your healer voice,” Sif said. “The one you use when you’re telling someone to breathe and everything is going to be fine.”
I nodded. “That’s the one. Except nothing was going to be fine for him.”
Sif sat back. Her chest rose with a long, slow breath and she let it out through her nose. Her blue eyes stayed on me, and the look she gave me had nothing to do with alarm or concern.
“That’s the most attractive thing I’ve ever heard,” Sif said.
Liv pointed at her from across the room. “I told you, Daniel. Those were almost my exact words.”
“I believe you. I completely believe you.” Sif leaned forward on the windowsill, her chin on her fist, her blue eyes fixed on me. “You walked up to a man who beat a beastkin woman, shook his hand like you were meeting him at a market stall, and broke him through your palm.”
“Sif, you’re drooling,” Liv said.
“I’m not drooling. I’m processing.” Sif didn’t look away from me. “Drooling involves saliva and the other involves a deep and sincere appreciation for a man who solves problems with his hands.”
“Both involve saliva,” Liv said.
“Shut up, Liv.” Sif was smiling, but the heat under it wasn’t a joke. “Then what?”
“Then I [Mended] him. Put everything back. No evidence. He was whole when I left. He was probably better off physically. If he had any ailments before I broke him, they were fixed. Now mentally, he’s not doing well at all. He’ll have nightmares for a while.”
“You [Mended] him after,” Sif said quietly.
“I told him I could take him apart just as easily as I could put him back together. I also told him I was an Outworlder. Then I said goodnight and we left.”
Sif’s grin dropped. “You told him you were an Outworlder? That probably added to his terror. Not everyone comes in contact with an Outworlder. Most people don’t believe they exist.”
“Well, I certainly exist, and he understands that now.”
“That’s not nothing, Daniel. Dock workers talk. If a barge crew starts telling people there’s an Outworlder healer in Halver’s Reach who breaks bones through handshakes, that’s the kind of attention you don’t want.”