Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Look at me,” Jasher ordered, his firm tone brokering zero argument.
I ripped my attention from the butcher responsible for my condition and focused on the executioner. My enemy, ally and only friend in this awful world, all rolled into one.
“Breathe with me,” he commanded. He held my gaze captive, forcing me to obey. To center. In. Out. In, out. “Good. That’s good.”
Okay. All right. I could do this. In, out. A flash of common sense. This was this the reason he’d chosen to stand behind Keren. Not to help her but to sooth me. Ooooh.
He didn’t release me from the visual cage as Keren worked, filleting the flesh from my palm, injecting a mystery substance into the pulpy meat, and searing the surface, leaving a charred crust. I felt none of it, thank goodness, until the non-medical professional injected the remaining liquid into my middle finger. Pink returned to my skin, the cold evaporated, and my wondrous numbness vanished.
Only my link to Jasher helped as nerves sang with agony. At least my connection to the Wests had been severed for good.
“Serpens-rosa,” I managed to gasp out. Please! He had one pellet remaining, and it belonged to me. Part of the payment for the compass.
“Do not take any serpens-rosa for twenty-four hours,” Keren instructed, applying thick, clear goop over the wound and wrapping my hand in a bandage. “Or maybe it’s forty-eight hours. Whatever. It will only undo everything I’ve done.”
“Which is it? Twenty-four or forty-eight?” No, it didn’t matter. That serpens-rosa wasn’t for me, anyway, but my father.
“Or maybe seventy-two.” Keren cleaned up, tossing the tools and used rags in the bucket, then wiping her hands together in a job well done.
I closed my eyes for a moment and sagged into my seat, exhausted but relieved.
“Have the mayor at the edge of town in ten minutes.” Jasher strode over and pulled out my chair, allowing me to settle Nugget on the floor and rise. My lack of grace didn’t surprise or embarrass me. I hadn’t toppled; I deserved a reward.
“Who is she to you?” Keren asked Jasher, acting as if I wasn’t in the room. “Why do you protect her with your life?”
“She has my protection, and that’s all anyone needs to know.” He snaked an arm around my waist and ushered me out the door, through the lobby, and outside. Nugget trotted beside us. “We’ll purchase our supplies and go,” he told me softly.
“Yes, please, and thank you.” I just wanted out of here.
We traversed the street, warm sunlight bathing the Wild West strip. The dirt path glinted with a multitude of hues, and when a gust of wind kicked up, I was pretty sure I tasted every color. Grains coated my tongue and tickled my throat. Signs declared the name of each business establishment contained within the buildings.
Hilarine’s Comfort Fashions
Susetta’s Sexy Creations
Cuts and Styles by Redora
Mayor’s Office
Eats by Nili
Better Eats by Patamia
Common Goods
And of course, the Buffet of Wrath.
A handful of villagers meandered about, dressed in loose tops and pants. Some stopped to wave and smile at Jasher. Others stared, weary. A few batted their lashes in clear invitation. Anyone who noticed Nugget didn’t hang around for long.
The rabdog wasn’t that unattractive. In fact, he was total cuteness once you got to know him.
“Do any of these women have boyfriends? Husbands?” I asked Jasher.
“None. Non-imprisoned males are only allowed to pass through.”
I shouldn’t ask. No, no, I shouldn’t. “Do you have a romantic thing going with Keren? Or anyone else here?” Dang. I’d asked.
He stared straight ahead. “I’ve had a single romantic thing in my life, but she died.” His deadened tone hid his thoughts. “Nothing lasts in Hakeldama.”
His confession—warning?—bothered me, resounding in my head as he led me onward. “By the way, this new protective thing you’ve got going is nice.” And hot. Very, very hot.
“You are the compass holder, and you set the perimeters of my duties. You told Natalie I protect you, so I do.”
Well. Way to ruin a good thing. “Thanks for the tip. Note to self, tell people Jasher forages me a seven course meal every night.”
We entered Common Goods, an old fashion general store type establishment. Stocked on the shelves alongside jarred vegetables, swathes of fabrics and gardening tools were soaps, pottery, and medicinal herbs.
Shoppers spotted Nugget, who was busy sniffing everything, and fled as if their feet were on fire. Only the old woman behind the counter remained. She studied the rabdog a good long while before clucking her tongue.
“You let her keep the runt?” she asked Jasher. With her silver hair anchored in a tight bun, her weathered features were on full display. Hooded brown eyes, a bulbous nose, and lips on the thin side.
“I doubt anyone could have stopped her, ma’am.” He braced, as if expecting the worst. “Greta, meet Moriah. Moriah, Greta.”