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Authors: Jacquelyn Frank
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work. The staff would josh and kid one another, but when they got to her she’d always felt … ashamed. Insulted andashamed. She’d obsess about the flaws they obviously saw, big enough flaws that made them want to tease her about them. It had been just another source of stress in her daily life when, for others, such things would have been jovial and relaxing. And eventually they had stopped trying to get her to laugh at herself and had instead taken to whispering behind her back about how she couldn’t take a joke to save her life or how stupidly serious she was.
Careful, here comes the fun police
, someone would mutter as she’d approached the nurses’ station, thinking she couldn’t hear them. But she’d been cursed with abnormally sharp hearing, yet another painfully useless talent in her life, and she had heard every whispered comment or dry remark.
Now, as she marched off to cook his food, she tried not to cry, gulping back the urge as it burned in her eyes, nose, and throat.
Ahnvil could hear her banging violently around the kitchen and he tried hard not to chuckle, but the urge was too much to handle. As punishment his side burned with a fierce stabbing pain, reminding him of much more sober truths. Eventually he was frowning as he probed the angry red wound and the neat little stitches holding it all together.
Stitches? And she hadn’t just broken out the sewing box and made a haphazard job of it. It looked professional. No, better than professional. Professional and very precise. Very … thoughtful. Had he been human, under her care he could have expected very little in the way of a scar. As it was, her skill would help his already rapid healing abilities … provided the damn infection didn’t continue to retard the process. He was susceptible to everything a human was susceptible to. The difference being his odds of surviving those vulnerabilities were much, much higher.
Provided he could turn to his stone self. But this far out from his touchstone he didn’t dare. He was afraid that if he did, he’d never be able to turn back again. Even so, as he sat there in bed waiting for her, he felt a ripple of heavy pain race down one of his arms and suddenly his flesh shifted to stone. His heart slammed around in his chest and he held his breath, waiting, praying he would change back. It was the first time he could ever remember changing to stone involuntarily … save those times he had been caught unaware in the sunlight. Instances like that, however, were thankfully few and far between. To be caught unaware was to be risking the moment of death. Turning to stone should always be well prepared for and should always be done in safe quarters.
This place was not safe. There was the storm blotting out the sun, yes, but it would not last forever and he didn’t trust it to last as long as she had said. Weather was too unpredictable to put all his faith in a forecast. So the first thing out of his mouth when she returned was, “I need you tae close all the curtains. I canna have a bit of sun on me. I … I have a condition …” he said as vaguely as he could.
“Is that the condition that turns you to stone and back again?” she asked a bit dryly, letting him know that she was neither blind nor stupid and the rippling shift to stone had been happening even while he’d been unconscious.
“I … know it must seem strange tae you,” he hedged, his eyes falling on the food as a serious war between his appetite and his desire to explain himself brewed. “ ’Tis just … a medical condition. ’Tis no’ catching or anything,” he hastened to add, trying hard not to frighten her off. He was going to need her for a while yet. Just until he was strong enough to maneuver on his own. The storm might give him a reprieve, but the truth was he had enemies on his heels. Enemies who would not think twice about tearing through an innocent woman in their effortto reacquire him as a prisoner. And
Careful, here comes the fun police
, someone would mutter as she’d approached the nurses’ station, thinking she couldn’t hear them. But she’d been cursed with abnormally sharp hearing, yet another painfully useless talent in her life, and she had heard every whispered comment or dry remark.
Now, as she marched off to cook his food, she tried not to cry, gulping back the urge as it burned in her eyes, nose, and throat.
Ahnvil could hear her banging violently around the kitchen and he tried hard not to chuckle, but the urge was too much to handle. As punishment his side burned with a fierce stabbing pain, reminding him of much more sober truths. Eventually he was frowning as he probed the angry red wound and the neat little stitches holding it all together.
Stitches? And she hadn’t just broken out the sewing box and made a haphazard job of it. It looked professional. No, better than professional. Professional and very precise. Very … thoughtful. Had he been human, under her care he could have expected very little in the way of a scar. As it was, her skill would help his already rapid healing abilities … provided the damn infection didn’t continue to retard the process. He was susceptible to everything a human was susceptible to. The difference being his odds of surviving those vulnerabilities were much, much higher.
Provided he could turn to his stone self. But this far out from his touchstone he didn’t dare. He was afraid that if he did, he’d never be able to turn back again. Even so, as he sat there in bed waiting for her, he felt a ripple of heavy pain race down one of his arms and suddenly his flesh shifted to stone. His heart slammed around in his chest and he held his breath, waiting, praying he would change back. It was the first time he could ever remember changing to stone involuntarily … save those times he had been caught unaware in the sunlight. Instances like that, however, were thankfully few and far between. To be caught unaware was to be risking the moment of death. Turning to stone should always be well prepared for and should always be done in safe quarters.
This place was not safe. There was the storm blotting out the sun, yes, but it would not last forever and he didn’t trust it to last as long as she had said. Weather was too unpredictable to put all his faith in a forecast. So the first thing out of his mouth when she returned was, “I need you tae close all the curtains. I canna have a bit of sun on me. I … I have a condition …” he said as vaguely as he could.
“Is that the condition that turns you to stone and back again?” she asked a bit dryly, letting him know that she was neither blind nor stupid and the rippling shift to stone had been happening even while he’d been unconscious.
“I … know it must seem strange tae you,” he hedged, his eyes falling on the food as a serious war between his appetite and his desire to explain himself brewed. “ ’Tis just … a medical condition. ’Tis no’ catching or anything,” he hastened to add, trying hard not to frighten her off. He was going to need her for a while yet. Just until he was strong enough to maneuver on his own. The storm might give him a reprieve, but the truth was he had enemies on his heels. Enemies who would not think twice about tearing through an innocent woman in their effortto reacquire him as a prisoner. And
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