her work, she’ll be upset, no doubt, but she’ll be alive. My gut twists as I imagine her refusing, and I curse myself for not training her better these two days. Yesterday I selfishly coddled her innocence and soaked in her nurturing spirit, rather than attempting to show her some Neph survival skills, like how to pretend you don’t give a shit. Yeah, I should have done things differently, but now it’s too late.
Anna comes into the room looking fresh-faced with damp hair, and the beast inside me growls. I know, boy, I tell him. She’s bloody gorgeous, isn’t she? Ah, the things we’d do to her. . . .
As I lie there watching Anna braid her own hair, her fingers moving deftly through the smooth, wet locks, I have to bend a knee to block the effect she has on me. I expect my Neph curse to hit with unbearable pain, but it doesn’t. Just a steady, low cramp. I can only assume it’s because this strange other feeling makes me stare at her with an even deeper longing for something far more powerful. I shake off that thought. It can’t last. I allowed myself one day of ridiculous thoughts yesterday, and it’ll have to be enough to last a lifetime. Playtime is over.
When our food arrives, Anna is too nervous to eat. I wish I could take her fear away. I do have something that might take her mind off it for a moment, though, and for once I’m not talking about sex. I reach in my pocket to feel the smooth turquoise stone there. My heart jumps at the thought of giving it to her, and I need to stand.
I move to the window, still staggering from the madness I feel inside. So many thoughts to muddle through. I want to escort Anna into the prison to meet Belial, but they won’t allow me. She is on her own, and I can’t protect her. My only consolation is that she and her father will be surrounded by other people.
One way or another, after Anna meets her father today, she will be changed. It’s inevitable.
“You’ve gotten scruffy,” comes her soft voice. Her hand is suddenly against my face, her touch pulsing through me. I grasp her hand and shut my eyes. Why do I feel this way? I am not myself when I’m with her. I long for this simple touch far too much.
When I look at her, she tilts her head like the timid fawn she is, searching my soul. I wonder if she sees the blackness there. This is our last day, and then this has to end. I let her go and cross my arms, staring from the window.
“I have something for you,” I say.
She brightens and perks up at these words, and I’m suddenly nervous as hell.
Going for nonchalance, I pull the necklace from my pocket and hold it out, but she doesn’t take it. She only stares, making me more nervous.
“I saw you looking at it and thought you liked it.” Does she remember?
Her face slightly pinches and she blinks. I’m feeling like a fool here.
“Have I upset you?”
“No! I’m not upset. I’m just surprised. I can’t believe . . .” Oh, bloody hell. She’s crying. “I mean, I love it. Nobody’s ever given me anything like this.”
Oy, she’s making a huge deal of it. I’ve never been a gift giver. Gifts mean something to the giver, even more so than to the receiver most times. I should know. I receive loads of gifts that go straight into rubbish bins. But I’m afraid this means as much to Anna as it does to me, and that’s not a good thing. I drop the damned necklace into her hand and curse, shoving my fingers into my hair.
What have I done? I know I wanted to make her fall for me, but she is clearly a romantic. Here I am buttering her up just before she goes to meet her demonic father, who will probably be in shock when he sees just how innocent Anna is. Not that he should be too surprised, considering he slept with a fucking angel to conceive her, but still. I’ve changed my mind about letting Anna fall for me. It would not be good for her. It’s bad enough that I’ll likely pine for her like Peter Pan after Wendy. I don’t need her doing the same.