angelic servant, who knelt between her thighs and used her mouth with obvious enthusiasm. What do I say that won't make things worse? I decide to just leave it at that. "I'm good."
She pats my wet shoulder. "If you need more, I will leave some under the pillow tonight. I have heard the gods can be demanding."
Aron's demanding all right, but just about the only thing he hasn't demanded from me is sex. Which…come to think of it, might be odd. Is he supposed to? Did I get the only celibate Aspect out there? Or am I not Aron's type and he took me only because he had to?
Why is the thought of that offensive? Because I threw myself at him and he ignored me? I bite back my scowl and wash myself, trying not to think about how many times Aron has told me that I stink. I mean, I do stink. But lots of the people here stink.
That doesn't mean I'm unattractive. He told me that he liked the way I looked…once.
I don't know why I care. I don't plan on staying around this place. I'm with Aron because he wants to go home, and so do I. It's a mutual interest thing. He needs a way back to his heavens, or wherever he went, and I need a way back to my world. Both of us get what we want—hopefully—if we manage to restore him.
That's all that this is.
Sexual attraction has nothing to do with anything. Aron's attractive to me because he's a god. Doesn't mean that he finds mortals attractive at all.
I try not to be irritated at that thought and finish my bath quickly, then let Vian pour a cold bucket of water over my hair to rinse it. "Your hospitality has been amazing," I tell her as I wrap up in the clean, worn blanket she offers me. "I'll be sure to tell Aron all about how kind you are."
For the first time, her eyes light up with hope. I can practically see her entire body tremble. "And he will bless us?"
"I'll ask."
The answer seems unsatisfying to her, but she nods and manages a smile, and I'm left wondering what response she was looking for.
37
Vian and her husband Cathis feed us and let us dry off by their fire that night. It's a quiet meal because both of them are too afraid of Aron to talk much, and I'm too busy stuffing my mouth. They seem unsurprised by my appetite, as I'm the only one that takes four bowls of stew, but during bowl number four, I realize that I might be eating them out of house and home and that curbs my appetite. I finish my portion and give them a bright smile. "We'll pay you for your hospitality."
"No we won't. They are honored to serve," Aron says arrogantly.
I kick him under the table and continue smiling. "Yes, but they have babies to feed. It's enough that they've offered." I don't pull out the coin purse just yet, though. I remember the greedy eyes back at the tavern, and I wonder suddenly if the mob came after us because we flashed too much money, not because Aron was a god. I’m so naïve. “It’s so nice of you to welcome us,” I say again.
"Of course." Vian gets up and clears the table. "I have prepared your bedding. We will sleep in the stable tonight to give you and your consort privacy, my Lord of Storms."
"Oh, but that's not necessary," I begin, but this time Aron kicks me under the table. I look at Vian and Cathis and it occurs to me that despite the muck and damp (and the sad, pitiful state of the stable) they might feel safer out there. "But thank you," I amend. "My lord and I are most grateful."
Aron pats my thigh, as if pleased by my chirpy response.
I just kick him under the table again, because it's fun, and he snorts with amusement. Sometimes I think he has fun being challenged, too.
The baby starts to get fussy, and then Cathis and Vian retreat to their stable, leaving us alone in their small cottage. I feel guilty, because I think of how pregnant Vian is and of the muddy, sloppy rain that's still going outside. It can't be a comfortable night for them, but they also looked as if they wanted nothing more than to get away from us. I guess there's no winning this particular battle.