Chapter 27
27
P ari had questions. Lots of questions. Like, why were these people dressed in old west clothes? They looked like they stepped out of an episode of Gunsmoke. And what was with the old west town?
The enticing smell of fresh baked bread drew her attention as the woman called Mary shoved a crock of what looked like fresh churned butter in front of her.
“Go ahead, dear, help yourself. Would ye like some jam?”
Pari took note of her Irish accent and smiled. “No, thank you, the butter is enough.” She dipped a butter knife into the crock as the kitchen door swung open, and Melvale stepped inside. He smiled at her as she spread butter on the hot bread. She couldn’t wait to take a bite. “Would you like some?” she asked him.
Melvale approached the table, never taking his eyes off her. “Thank you, yes.”
She handed him the slice and before he could take it; Mary was handing her another. Pari smiled and buttered that piece too. Melvale watched her, still smiling. “Aren’t you going to eat it?” she asked.
“You first.” He cocked his head as Mary buttered her own slice while Polly cut up the rest of the loaf.
Pari raised the warm bread to her mouth, inhaled, then took a bite. It was heavenly! “Oh, gosh, this is good.” She didn’t even care that she was talking with her mouth full. Memories of her mother hit, and a pang of sadness mixed with nostalgia followed.
Melvale fidgeted, as if he was uncomfortable, then took a bite of his own bread. “Mmm, Mary, Polly, you’ve outdone yourselves.”
“Why thank you, Melvale,” Polly said then sighed. “Better not let Irene hear you say that. You know how she is.” She reached for the crock of butter and spread some on the last piece of bread she sliced. “We’ve got two more loaves baking. If you plan on being here a spell, we can send a loaf home with you.”
“Pari?” he said then took another bite.
“Yes!” She continued to chew, each bite better than the last. She looked at the two old women. They looked to be in their seventies. Polly had white hair while Mary’s was salt-and-pepper gray. “So, you live here?” she asked between bites.
“After a fashion,” Polly said. “When we’re not out on assignment.”
Pari stopped chewing, her eyes flicking to Melvale and back. He stood looking like a Greek god and had a tiny drop of butter at one side of his mouth. He licked it away before he took another bite.
Her breath caught when she realized she was staring. Why was that so… sexy? Pari looked away, her eyes focusing on the plate of warm, sliced bread in front of Polly. Would it be rude to take another slice?
“You can have more,” Melvale said, as if hearing her thoughts.
Her head snapped to him. “Huh?”
He smiled. “Eat, Kitten.”
“Kitten?” Polly said then smiled at her. “Oh, what a sweet nickname.”
Pari blushed and tucked her head into her shoulders. “Yeah, well, he seems to like it.”
Melvale grinned at them. “It suits her. But so does my little Pari, Pariwink, Pari Mae, little one… I could go on.”
“Does she claw like a kitten?” Mary asked with a laugh. “How about hiss?”
“I do plenty of that,” Pari said then pressed her lips together. She hadn’t gotten feisty with Melvale yet, but he hadn’t pushed her either. He’d done nothing but take care of her since she woke up, and for that she was grateful. Still, she also couldn’t figure out why. What did a hot guy like him, alien or no, see in a girl like her?
She glanced at her arms. No more tattoos, no more short-cropped yellow hair, and no more nose ring. They all disappeared overnight, and he…
“Want something to wash it down?” Mary asked.
Pari nodded, pushing the thoughts aside. “Yes, please.”
Mary left the table, went to an old-fashioned ice box, and opened it. She took out a pitcher of what looked like lemonade, went to a hutch and came back with a glass in her hand. She filled it and handed it to Pari.
Pari thanked her, took a quick sniff of the contents—hey, she had been drugged earlier—and took a tentative sip. “Mmm, this is good.” She drank more and soon gulped down half the glass.
“Someone was thirsty,” Melvale commented then frowned. “Have you been thirsty all this time? You must tell me…”
“I’m fine,” she interjected and set the glass down. “I didn’t realize I was so thirsty until now.” She gave him a tiny smile then looked around the kitchen. “So, what is this place again?”
“Home,” Polly said. “Or it looks like home.”
“What do you mean, looks like?” Had they been abducted by Melvale’s people?! Oh no…
“It’s a long story, dearie,” Mary said. “One I’m guessing we don’t have time to tell right now. Is that right, Melvale?”
“You are correct.” He reached for another slice of bread. “This is wonderful. Irene will be jealous.”
“Who is Irene?” Pari asked.
“Our friend,” Mary said. “She and her husband Wilfred own the mercantile in town.”
Pari looked at the women, then Melvale. “Do a lot of people live here?”
“A fair number of us,” Polly said. “Twelve to be exact.”
“Thirteen if you count Maida,” Mary added.
Polly smiled. “Fourteen with Markhel.”
Mary shook her head. “But they don’t actually live here.”
Polly wagged a finger at her. “They might as well…”
“Where is he?” A gruff voice barked from the dining room.
Pari watched the kitchen’s swinging door open. A short, plump woman, also in western garb, stormed into the kitchen. She scrunched up her face at Melvale, whipped a cast iron ladle from out of nowhere, and waved it at him. “Here you are!”
A low growl escaped him, and Pari caught the change in his eyes as she spun to face the newcomer. Oh no!
The short, plump woman looked him up and down. “What’s the matter with your eyes? Why are they blue?”
“Don’t move,” Pari warned. “ Bondrah? ”
Melvale straightened to his full height as he stared down the woman. “ Kahtala Miah…” His voice was much deeper.
Pari swallowed hard. “I’m all right,” she soothed. She’d observed enough over the last few hours to know that when his eyes turned blue, he was unpredictable. Protective, yeah, but…
“Well, answer me,” the woman spat.
“Irene, calm down,” Mary scolded. “Have a slice of bread. I just took it out of the oven.”
“I will not have any bread,” the woman shot back. “I want to know why his eyes are blue!”
Melvale growled low in his throat. Pari left her chair and hurried around the table. “Melvale! Bondrah! “
“ Bondrah ?” Irene asked with raised eyebrows. “What’s that?”
Pari ignored her and wedged herself between them. “It’s all right.” She put a hand on his chest. “Everything’s all right.”
He looked at her, the blue of his eyes growing in intensity.
“Shhh,” she hummed and put her other hand on his chest.
“Oh,” Irene huffed. “So that’s what this is, eh? Well, why didn’t somebody tell me?” She reached for Pari.
Melvale hissed at her, fangs descended, and wrapped Pari in his arms protectively.
Irene, ignorant of Melvale’s precarious state, scrunched up her face, her dark eyes narrowing, and bonked him on the forehead head with the ladle. “Don’t hiss at me like that! Have some respect for your elders!”
“Irene!” Cyrus cried as he entered the room. A young woman with sable brown hair and big brown eyes was right behind him. Behind her was another of Melvale’s kind. He was just as tall, a bit broader, and had the same silver white hair.
“Brother!” he called. “Mind yourself.”
Pari looked up in time to see Melvale take in the newcomers. He hissed at them but didn’t make a move toward them. Instead, he held Pari closer and began to back up.
“No one move,” the big man said. “Don’t startle him.”
“Melvale?” she murmured into his chest. He didn’t take his eyes off the newcomers to look at her. “ Bondrah Miah ?”
He took in the others and snorted like an angry bull.
“ Bondrah ,” she said softly and wrapped her arms around him.
He breathed out his nose again, calmer.
“Easy, brother,” the big man said. “No one’s going to harm her. She’s safe.”
Melvale took in a long breath through the nose, and she caught sight of his fangs, retracting. Pari sighed in relief. “His eyes are turning back to gray.”
“Yes, I see that,” the big man said. “Melvale?”
Pari tried to turn in Melvale’s arms to face them, but he held her tight. “It’s all right. I just… want to say hi.”
He looked down at her and met her gaze. She smiled at him. His eyes were indeed gray but rimmed in blue. “Can I do that?”
He said nothing, but he did loosen his hold.
“Thank you.” Pari slowly turned around. “Hi.”
The young woman peeked around the big man. “Hello. I’m Maida. And this is my mate, Markhel.”
“He and Melvale are brothers,” Cyrus said. He sighed and eyed Markhel. “I take it a lot happened on your last assignment?”
“You could say that,” Markhel agreed.
Pari studied him and noticed a few similarities between the brothers, but she didn’t have time for a lengthy comparison. She tilted her head back and chanced a peek at Melvale. The blue rim of his eyes was fading, a good sign, so she gave her attention back to the others. “I think he’s fine now.”
“Yes,” Markhel agreed. “Melvale, do you need assistance?”
Melvale swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “No, I… oh, Irene, forgive me!”
Irene eyed him, glanced at the ladle in her hand, and put it behind her back. “What was that about? You flashed your fangs at me! How rude!”
“And you could have been killed,” Markhel scolded.
Maida sucked in a breath. “What?”
“By this marshmallow?” Irene huffed as she tossed her head at Melvale.
Pari snorted with laughter. “Marshmallow?” She looked up at Melvale who was blushing!
“Yes, he’s a big softie,” Irene went on. “But I still want to know why his eyes were blue.”
Markhel let go a sigh. “Irene, I have things to tell all of you. But first, I have brought Maida to you. She wishes to do some cooking.”
“Then she can make dinner,” Irene snapped.
Maida giggled at the older woman. “I would love to.” She went to her, kissed Irene on the cheek, then did the same with Mary and Polly.
Pari watched in fascination and absently rested her hands on Melvale’s arms which she belatedly noticed were still around her.
He bent to her ear. “I’m sorry, Pari, for earlier.”
She turned her face to his. “ Bondrah Miah ,” escaped unbidden. His eyes began turning blue, and she put a hand to his cheek. “These are your friends.”
He smiled as his eyes softened. “They are. All of them. They have seen my brother and me through many things.”
She gave him a solemn nod, sensing there was too much for him to tell her here. She should let him spend time with these people and his brother. But there was one thing she had to ask. “What did the girl Maida call your brother?”
“Markhel?”
“Yes, his name, but she called him something else. What was it?”
“Oh, yes.” Melvale put a hand over the one she had at his cheek. “She called him her mate. Here that means husband or wife.”
“Oh, I see.” She looked at the people in old west clothes. “And what do they call each other?”
“If married they use the human terms, husband and wife. They are human, after all.” He looked into her eyes, and for a moment, Pari thought Melvale might kiss her. But why would he? And especially in front of all these people?
He gave her hand a squeeze, released her from his hold, and nodded at his brother. “I must speak to him. Will you excuse me?”
She nodded and fought the chill that went up her spine when he left her side. She was enjoying being wrapped in his arms too much. After all, it’s not like it was going to last.