“Fine. I’m going to shower and
change my clothes. You can wait here.” She wanted to tell him not to touch
anything, but how would she stop him? Getting clean was the priority; she was
horribly itchy.
He nodded, glancing around the
house. “Take your time. I’m going to make certain your house is secure.”
Cara didn’t want him messing with
her parent’s house, but it was worth it if it kept him busy. Grabbing some
fresh clothes, she hurried through a shower, worrying about him all the while. She
was so tired and hungry, it distracted her as she dressed. Still brushing her
hair, she left the bathroom to check on him.
Tremor was seated at the table,
looking out the window. He turned at the sound of her approach and stilled. His
eyes tracked her body slowly, surveying the results of the shower. “You
look…better.”
She huffed. “I don’t usually go
around caked in mud.” She looked him over critically. “You’re welcome to use
the shower.” He might as well; she had an awful mess to clean up in there;
chalk would make little difference.
“Show me,” he said simply,
following her into the bathroom. He watched her demonstration and nodded. She
felt fairly confident he would manage, so she left him to it, promising to
leave him some clothes outside the bathroom door.
Thankfully, her tall father had a
round middle, so she was able to find a pair of navy blue gym shorts, but her
dad’s shirt would never cover Tremor’s chest. At least the shorts were better
than the rag he had wrapped around his hips now.
She raided the fridge, loading her
plate with leftover tamales. She ate quickly, but never seemed to fill her
belly. Well, she’d had a full day and missed lunch; a second helping couldn’t
hurt.
Tremor entered the kitchen as she
was refilling her plate. He looked less dusty, and he’d shaved his straggling
hair off. The shorts were a little snug, but they covered the essentials. He
frowned. “You can’t feed on human food.”
“I just did,” she said tartly,
putting her plate in the microwave.
He shook his head. “You can eat it
without harm, but it won’t satisfy you.”
“It will if I eat enough,” she
said stubbornly. She sat down with her plate and proceeded to prove him wrong.
He took a seat and alternated
between watching the windows and her. When he saw her expression of dismay as
she stared at her empty plate, he said mildly, “Ready to try feeding my way?”
“No.” She wouldn’t admit defeat.
Ignoring the fact that she was hungrier now than when she’d gotten home, she
dished up a big bowl of ice cream and turned on the TV, determined to ignore
him.
Unfortunately he followed,
examining the flat screen with great interest. “How does this work? Are you an
oracle? This is some kind of enchanted mirror, yes?”
Cara frowned. “Technology has come
along in the last few years. It’s science, not magic, and you’re smudging the
screen.”
He stepped away. “What else has
changed in the centuries I’m been away? It’s dangerous to be ignorant of the
times.”
Her brows climbed at the word
centuries. “How long were you imprisoned?”
“Eight hundred years, more or
less.” He was examining the DVD player, popping the tray in and out.
“Whoa. That’s a long time. What
did you do to deserve that?”
“What did you do to deserve your fate?”
he asked. “I was myself.”
“That’s not an answer.” Her ice
cream was gone, and she was beginning to feel weak with hunger. She rubbed her
head.
“I caused an earthquake,” he said, folding his arms.
“The shockwaves caused a tsunami that wiped out Thonis.”
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