Pure Requiem - Aja James Page 0,5

that, how easily it flowed from my evil, forked tongue.

His full lips curved slightly in that sexy quirk, what I call the squirk. I have one just like it, but nowhere near as charismatic.

“Hmm. I sensed perhaps that you’re a little intimidated by Rain.”

How does he know these things!

“Just between you and me,” I whispered conspiratorially, “she is just a tiny bit frightening. Don’t you think she looks like one of those Japanese anime succubus characters? Or some kind of tentacle-haired alien? She’s so…creepy.”

A silent rumble of laughter shook through the General’s body, and my heart soared inexplicably at giving him joy.

“Behave yourself,” he admonished with a straight face, though the corner of his lips still twitched. “Here she comes.”

“Good afternoon, Tal,” the Healer greeted graciously, her manners always exquisite.

She turned and smiled at me. “Good afternoon, Inanna. I am glad you are able to accompany your father, though I must say I am surprised that Tal allows it. He never has before.”

Truly? I peered at the General and blinked with surprise myself. Why wouldn’t he want his family around him for support? If I had a family, I think I’d want that. But what do I know?

And then, I understood immediately, intuitively.

Tal-Telal is the sort of male who always carries his burdens alone. It’s his way of protecting others, even if it cost himself dearly.

As if he felt my gaze on him, he turned his face slightly away, giving me the determined, steely cut of his profile, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly.

“Thank you for letting me come with you, papa,” I whispered so that only he could hear.

At first, I thought he’d ignore my words. But he surprised me again.

“Sometimes, it’s good to share our pain, child,” he rumbled in that husky, raspy deep voice. “It’s never easy, but…I’m beginning to learn how to heal.”

My eyes pooled with tears unbidden, and I blinked rapidly to disperse them. It must be Inanna’s form—this blasted female form—it must be the hormones acting up in this body that wasn’t mine. That’s what I blamed for the stupid water in my eyes.

“Come sit down,” Rain directed with a sweep of her arm, indicating the flat padded surface of the types of beds you see in hospitals, except much more spacious and comfortable looking.

“Please remove your clothes.”

The General stripped almost entirely naked but for black briefs and sat on the table. The Healer efficiently went about routine checks with various modern medical instruments while I stood to the side watching silently, my heart throbbing painfully in my chest.

Gods! The scars on this male’s body.

I’d seen it all before, but never this closely. And the last time that I did, I hadn’t felt this way. I’d watched Ishtar Anshar, my Mistress’s sister, almost kill Medusa after she tortured the General again, the way she always tortured him, right before Ishtar’s very eyes. I saw it all.

But back then, I only watched with morbid curiosity. The male was nothing to me. I didn’t give a fuck.

Now…

I’ve never seen an immortal as scarred as he is.

Though his skin was mostly smooth, there were still some raised ridges and craters, from the deepest, most persistent wounds that the Mistress must have carved into his body repeatedly over endless hours, days and years. The somewhat lesser wounds (and by that I mean the ones that were only repeated a few thousand times instead of a few hundred thousand times) had faded to blue, purple, green and black lines and bruises, as if he’d been drawn on with light-colored markers.

His body was leanly muscular, but not a leanness with youthful bounce like all other immortals no matter their age. There’s no give in his steel-like muscles and the paper-thin skin that wrapped over his body. He seemed at once indestructible and incredibly fragile, his blind eyes downcast, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

He hated this, I knew. Hated that anyone saw him like this, even the Healer, and now me. I didn’t know how I knew, maybe because I have scars too, though they’re less visible than his.

For some stupid reason, I blurted, “I can’t decide if you look like a Jackson Pollock painting or one of Benji’s scribbles.”

Startled, both Rain and the General looked at me.

I cocked my head a bit and made a point of scrutinizing Tal Telal’s body thoughtfully.

“There’s a certain symmetry as well as randomness in the lines. It’s actually quite…beautiful, despite the ugliness that created them. When I look at you, I see colors, and