Chapter Sixteen
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NAZAB HAD NEVER BEEN so turned on before.
What was it about Monica Yamil that drew him to her?
She was undeniably beautiful and her body was amazing even though she was a bit too thin.
Her personality appealed to him just as much as her appearance did.
The way she’d handled the hostile townsfolk and had won them over so easily had been impressive.
“Help me wash my clothes?” the female currently featuring in his daydream asked.
“Are you dressed?” the knight queried. He wasn’t sure he would be able to deal with seeing her wet and mostly naked body for more than a couple of minutes.
“Yes, I’m dressed,” she said in a long-suffering tone, but he heard a hint of humor beneath it.
Cautiously turning, he saw she’d pulled her now soaking wet jeans and a t-shirt on. Her towel was wrapped around her wet hair. He ambled over and assisted her to wash the clothes the townsfolk had given to her. Wringing the water out, they put them in the basket.
“Now it’s your turn to bathe and I’ll watch your back,” his female said brightly.
Nazab needed to wash off the grime, but his clothes weren’t dirty yet. “How much shampoo and conditioner should I use?” he asked, since this was the first time he’d ever used the modern products.
“Just pour a small amount in the palm of your hand,” she replied. “Make sure you wash your beard as well.” She reached up to place her palm on his cheek. “I want to feel the difference when it’s dry again,” she said, blushing prettily.
He gave her a slow smile that made her blush even harder, then she turned around and walked a short distance away.
Nazab stripped down and quickly washed himself.
He kept his eyes on Monica’s stiff back.
Each time she stole a glance at him over her shoulder, he quickly looked away.
Even with a towel wrapped around her hair, she looked regal.
It might as well have been a fancy crown.
Using the products, he left the conditioner in his hair and beard for a couple of minutes before rinsing it out. “I’m done,” he said after drying himself off and getting dressed.
“We should head back to the other house so I can hang my washing up,” Monica said.
Nazab carried her back to the house while she held the basket. Grabbing all of their gear, they crammed some of it into the basket and he shouldered the rest. Taking his female into his arms again, he sprinted back to their temporary base. No one had invaded it while they’d been gone.
“Did you see any pegs in the laundry room?” Monica asked when he put her down.
“They’re in a small basket on a shelf,” he replied, then opened the front door. Leaving their gear in the living room, he carried the basket full of damp clothes for her.
Monica found the pegs and unlocked the back door.
“They have a clothesline,” she said in relief.
It was still early, but it was warming up quickly.
Nazab held the basket while she hung her clothes up.
She took the towel off her hair and hung it up as well.
Bending over, she combed her hair with her fingers.
Sucking in his breath, Nazab stared longingly at his cambion. She was completely unaware of the stunning view of her delectable backside that she was giving him. He averted his eyes when she straightened up again and tossed her hair behind her. “Thanks for your help,” she said.
“No problem,” he said, holding the basket in front of his groin. He waited for her to turn away and trudge towards the house before following her inside. He left the basket in the laundry room. The wind was beginning to pick up and he didn’t want the basket to be blown away.
“So, what now?” Monica asked when he joined her in the living room. She’d brushed her hair and was braiding it. “We’ve got a ham radio. Do we just sit around and wait for the Mad Prophet to speak to us?”
Nazab sat on the couch and leaned forward. “I found a few maps while I was searching for the radio,” he said. “Maybe I’ll be able to figure out where Amaros and my brothers are staying.”
Monica sank down onto the couch next to him, leaving a small gap between them. “Good luck with that,” she said dryly as he opened a map of the United States.
Gazing at the map in amazement, the knight was momentarily speechless. “This country is far larger than I’d realized,” he admitted. “I have no idea where we are on this map.”
“New York is here,” Monica said, leaning over to point to the city on the east coast. “We’re in this general area,” she added.
“This map isn’t going to be much help,” he figured, then folded it back up. He sorted through the others until he found one of New York State. “Maybe this one will be of more use,” he figured.
“We’ve still got a huge area to search,” his female said. “Do you have any idea at all where your brothers might have set up their base?”
“It will be distant enough to be safe, but close enough to get to and from Manhattan to engage our enemies,” he said. “We can choose a base further away once more of us have arrived.”
“Why would you move even further away?” she asked in confusion.
The knights’ ability to teleport was a heavily guarded secret they never revealed to humans. Monica was intended to be his mate, so he decided to trust her with the information. “We can teleport once enough of us have gathered together,” he explained.
Monica’s chuckle trailed off when he didn’t laugh with her. “You’re actually serious?” she asked incredulously.
“We’re not supposed to tell anyone about that secret,” he said. “Humans tend to kill people who are different from them.”
“No kidding,” she agreed. “Why did you decide to tell me if it’s such a huge secret?”
Nazab took hold of his courage and turned to face her. “You were right, female,” he said. “I saw a book that someone had recorded everything the Mad Prophet said in that town. He mentioned my brothers finding their mates more than once. It seems Fate intends for us to be together.”
“I knew it!” Monica said in a gloating tone. “I know it’s weird that I’m a cambion, but this was meant to be!”
He was about to speak when the ham radio crackled, drawing their attention and ruining the moment.
“Good morning, survivors!” one of his hated enemies said in a smooth, practiced tone.
“This is Xathan, speaking to you from the Empire State Building in Manhattan. As Governor Giamano promised, supplies have begun arriving and we’re ready to restore this glittering city to its former glory.
We urge you to continue bringing your own food to ensure no one goes hungry.
Everyone is welcome and no one will be turned away. ”
“What a damn liar,” Monica said with a scowl.
“This is the Mad Prophet,” the oracle they’d been hoping to hear from said a moment later.
“Xathan is a tool of evil and he can’t be trusted,” he said in a tone that sounded slightly insane.
“If you choose to believe his slick snake oil salesman pitch, you’ll either end up a slave, or in a watery grave. ”
He went silent and Monica shivered in reaction. “He’s the real deal,” Nazab concluded. “Fate’s definitely using this male as her conduit.”
“He didn’t give us any clues about what we’re supposed to do,” his female said. “I knew that Xathan guy was a snake the first time I heard his voice,” she added darkly. “I can tell he’s just pretending to be a good guy.”
“Xathan’s always been the spokesperson for Rahab when dealing with humans,” Nazab said.
“They’re all evil to the core. None of them are able to feel compassion or empathy.
They don’t even care about each other. Xathan is the most civilized warrior on the surface, but he’s a savage beneath his facade.
I once saw him butcher a woman and her young child in a past era when they saw him call on his sword.
He probably didn’t want them to alert the whole village about what they’d seen.
There was no remorse at all on his face when he slaughtered them. ”
Their happy mood had been shattered, so they concentrated on the map and tried to figure out what to do next.