The Last Warrior (Shifters Unbound #13) - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,10

she squeezed it too hard.

She shoved the bread behind a large jar of some substance with a bright label and approached the stove. “Perhaps I will have whatever you are cooking. Is that the flesh of a hunted beast?”

Ben poked at the bits of meat sizzling in the pan. “Sort of. It’s bacon, anyway.”

“Bacon?”

“Comes from pigs. From their stomachs.”

Rhianne gazed at Ben in surprise. “You eat this?”

“It’s good. Especially with eggs.”

“Eggs. I can eat those.”

“I scrambled up a mess.” Ben moved his flat stirring implement to another frying pan on the back of the stove. Inside this lay yellow blobs flecked with black.

Rhianne eyed the concoction dubiously. “Well, I am hungry.”

Ben’s laugh echoed in the room. “Are you saying you don’t like my cooking? You haven’t even tasted it.”

“I do not wish to be rude, but …” Rhianne looked over the pans. The one with boiling water had sausages floating in it. “I can have those.”

“Oh, you can, can you? Tell you what. I’ll fix you up a plate. Check the refrigerator—might be something else in there you’d like.”

He indicated the humming cabinet. Curious, Rhianne approached it. The door’s handle was cool, and she had to yank at it several times before the ponderous door swung open.

A wave of very cold air wafted out, as though she’d walked into a deep root cellar. More surprising were the shelves filled with a curious array of food.

Peppers, carrots, and onions she knew from her mother’s garden at home, as well as market stalls, but she’d never seen the variety of packages, all with the same colorful labels as the jar on the table. She didn’t recognize the words—salsa, ketchup, tabasco, soy sauce—or if she did know the words, she didn’t understand the food—hot sauce, curry paste, honey mustard.

Apples. Those she understood. She pulled one from a bowl, wiped it on her shirt, and took a big bite.

Crisp. The iciness of the cabinet made the apple pleasantly crunchy and cold. Rhianne wiped a droplet of apple juice from her chin.

Ben had filled two plates with all the things on the stove. He took browned slices of the squishy bread from a device with slots on the top and added them to the plates.

“Breakfast is up.” He carried the plates to the dining table.

“How is that done?” Rhianne, apple in hand, approached the stove. Its top was smooth and black. No fire anywhere or any sign of smoke. “Magic?”

She touched the surface.

Ben slammed the plates to the table and was leaping back to her at the same time Rhianne shrieked and jumped. “Shelarank!”

Arm around her shoulders, Ben dragged her to a basin. He touched a tap similar to those in the bathroom and shoved her hand under a cold stream of water.

“Your mum should have given you a manual to the human world,” he grumbled.

Rhianne wriggled her singed fingers, which felt better under the chilly stream. Ben’s hand engulfed her wrist as he held her steady, but his touch was gentle on her healing skin. His other arm was still around her, his support solid.

Rhianne recalled the gargantuan creature that had ripped the bars from her cell, setting her free. The hands that held her now were much smaller, but she felt the same strength in them, saw battle scars on his skin that a change of form couldn’t hide.

She peered at him as she let the cool water soothe her fingers. “What are you?” she whispered.

Ben’s cheeks grew red, but he shrugged. “Ghallareknoiksnlealous. Don’t try to say it. Goblin is fine.”

Rhianne stared at him. “Goblin? But you’re extinct.”

A hardness flickered in his eyes. “That’s me. Extinct.” He released Rhianne’s hand and tossed a towel at her, turning away for the table.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly.

“I know. Come and eat before it’s cold.”

Rhianne somehow still had hold of the apple. She dried her hand and moved to the table. Ben dragged out a chair for her, and Rhianne sat.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said. “Not after you rescued me so kindly.”

Ben grunted. “Goblins are gone from your world. They were never very important to Tuil Erdannan anyway.”

Rhianne realized his gruff tones masked a pain so deep she would never understand it. She suddenly wanted to. This creature had braved a hoch alfar lord’s fortress, with only one companion, and had whisked her to safety. Relative safety, that is. Rhianne wasn’t certain if she was out of danger here.

“You’re important to me.” Rhianne set down the apple and picked up