“Yes.” His demon had cheered for her? Really? Was that the voice she’d heard, as she’d first suspected? “Thank you.”
“This is not something to smile about.”
She was smiling? Oh, yeah. She was. She smoothed her features. “Fine. I’ll behave. Now, don’t you feel better?”
A moment passed before the tension she’d sensed in him drained. He’d won. A little skirmish, yes, but he’d still won, granting his demon some sort of victory and hopefully calming him.
“You did that on purpose,” he said, thoughtful.
“So?”
“So. You’re sweet.” Tenderly he swept the hair from her brow. “We’re going to talk. If you’re feeling up to it,” he added.
His body heat cocooned her more surely than the blanket. “Why wouldn’t I feel up to it? Paltry wounds, remember?” As her dry tone echoed, she began to understand something else about Strider. He’d shown her no sympathy earlier because he’d realized how close she teetered to the edge of a breakdown. Any softness would have sent her over, and she would have collapsed.
She would have resented him for that collapse, would have worried about the consequences. Now, she didn’t have to. She could simply enjoy him.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “Be honest.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you need anything else?”
“A naked rubdown.”
His pupils expanded, gobbling up his irises. “Besides that.”
“Besides this, besides that,” she mocked, forcing herself to glare at him. “Lookit, I can tell you’re sincerely slightly concerned about my physical well-being, but if you don’t get me some water like I already told you I needed, I will personally—”
“Clearly, you’re feeling up to a talk.” His lips twitched into a full-fledged smile this time.
There. Much better. He hadn’t wanted her to collapse, and she hadn’t wanted him to torture himself about her condition.
“Therefore…” He held up a glistening bottle and waved it in her face. A few droplets of condensation splashed onto her chest, and she gasped. “I can admit that I’ve got what you want, and exploit you.”
The sudden dryness of her mouth made her gums ache. She’d been lying before, about being thirsty, but now, seeing that bottle, she wanted. Had to have. Would die if she didn’t. “Give me.”
“Uh-uh-uh. You want this,” he said in a singsong voice, “you’ll have to earn it. So I’ll be asking you some questions, and you’ll be giving me the answers. And, just so you know, I also have a hamburger and a chocolate shake to pay you with.”
She licked her lips, hating him and loving him at the same time. This was exactly why she never spilled Harpy secrets. They could be used against her. But because of Gwen, Strider knew Kaia truly had to earn her food. If he asked a question, and she accepted payment for her answer, she couldn’t lie to him. Otherwise, she would sicken, just as she would if she ate something she’d prepared for herself.
Once again he waved the water bottle. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she gritted out, no longer having to fake the resurgence of anger. He would want to know about the next competition. She knew it. She—
“Tell me why the Harpies hate you so much.”
Was wrong. She sagged against the mattress and peered up at the ceiling. Water damage had darkened several panels. They were in another cheap motel, then. Were probably still in Wisconsin.
“I’m waiting, baby doll.”
“The answer’s not important.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
She sighed. “The man…Juliette’s man. The one you saw the day of orientation. When I was fourteen, I wanted him to be my slave, to do my laundry, that kind of thing, so I tried to steal him and prove my worth. My strength.” As she spoke, she began to tremble. If she told him the rest, the truth, he would leave her. Just like most of her clan had left her.
How could he not? He’d just watched her lose. To hear that she’d always been a failure, that she would probably never be more…
Did she really want the bottle of water that much?
“And?” he insisted.
Better to lose him now, she rationalized. He was only staying for the Rod, anyway, and if he left, she wouldn’t have to worry about the next competition. About losing in front of him again.
“Instead,” she finished, “I set him free and he almost killed me. He would have killed me if not for Bianka. She pulled him off me and he turned on her. Then, of course, he turned on everyone else. More Harpies were lost that day than any other day in our history. Even during the Great Turf Wars, when we battled other species.”
Strider frowned. “If he hurt so many, why isn’t he blamed for what happened? No one looked at him with hate in their eyes. No one went for his throat.”
That was his reaction? Why hadn’t he run? “Juliette had him contained. I unleashed him. Had I stayed away, he wouldn’t have had the chance to do anything.”
“All right, then answer me this. If he’s so dangerous, why has Juliette kept him around?”
“A Harpy will forgive her consort for almost anything,” she grumbled.
A moment of silence. “What is Juliette’s consort, anyway?” he asked, opting not to comment on her “forgive almost anything” revelation. Why? She’d just given him an eternal hall pass. “Not a human, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know what he is. I’d never encountered anyone like him, and haven’t since.”
His lips pursed. “So you didn’t sleep with him?”
“I was fourteen. What do you think?” At his blank look, she scowled. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”
“Gods, you’re huffy. I know you didn’t sleep with him. I just wanted to hear you say so.” He traced a fingertip along her jaw, gentle, so gentle. “And thank you. For the truth this time.”
Do not melt. He hadn’t exactly declared himself. “Thank you? That’s all you have to say to me?”
“Yeah. What? Did you expect a limerick?”
No. She’d expected a lecture and a goodbye. “Because of what I did, they named me Kaia the Disappointment.” There. Now he knew everything. Now he knew the person he’d put his trust and faith in—well, sort of—might not be able to deliver.
“What is it with Harpies and name-calling?” he asked, again surprising her.
Every time someone called her KtD, she died a little inside, but Strider acted as if it were no big deal. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “I wouldn’t worry about us and our name-calling. We haven’t given you one yet.”
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, there one moment, gone the next. “Like I care what you call me.” His voice was flat, emotionless, offering no hint as to what she’d seen. He was such an asshole sometimes. Well, I’ll see your “don’t care” and raise you a “what do you think about this?” “Just so you know, we call Paris the Sexorcist.”
Strider’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a sharp breath. Silence gripped them for so long, she started to feel guilty. Then he said stiffly, “You’ve earned your first payment.” He twisted the cap off the water, slid a warm hand under her neck and lifted. Her lips met the cold cascade of liquid and she forgot all about the guilt.
She gulped like crazy, and gods, each drop tasted better than the last. When she finished, Strider crunched the plastic and tossed it over his shoulder. He eased her back down and released her. She pursed her lips to stop herself from begging for more contact.
He leaned toward the nightstand and claimed a section of the hamburger he’d already cut into fours. Her stomach churned, growled.
“Guess I don’t have to ask if you’re hungry,” he remarked with a grin.
Em-barr-ass-ing, but at least he’d lost that emotionless edge and was still determined to talk with her. A miracle of miracles. She wouldn’t complain again.