![Mallory Rush - [Outlawsand Heroes 02]](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/564424/thumbs/152x264/mallory-rush-outlawsand-heroes-02.jpg)
very good." He forced himself to swallow another spoonful, as he had the few others he had politely eaten. He didn't really taste it, his taste buds having gone the way of the rest of his senses. Numb.
"Here, let me warm that up for you." She took his bowl, went to a box, performed some sort of magic trick with it, and perhaps a minute later returned. "Careful, it's hot."
The rising steam seemed more a witch's brew bubbling in a kettle after the hocus-pocus Lori had worked on it. He turned his attention to the tabletop and his gaze settled on a spoon. A spoon. Never had he believed that something so ordinary, so blessedly familiar, would give him a sense of reassurance.
"You need to eat, Noble." Taking up the spoon, she filled it and urged it to his lips. He gripped her wrist and raised his eyes to hers.
"Don't." He abruptly stood and said with forced calm, "I am fully capable of feeding myself, thank you. Being one of the few things I can manage without assistance, I would appreciate you not robbing me of that much self-sufficiency."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you or—or..."
Noble waved away her apology and began to stalk the kitchen's length. He forced himself to confront the various oddities, proving to the lot of them, as well as himself, that he was not afraid of the strange powers they possessed.
When he pushed down a lever and began to run a finger beneath the small whirring piece of silver, Lori cried out, "don't touch that! You'll cut yourself!" The next moment she was there, banging open a cabinet door and pulling out a can that she placed beneath the device.
"It's a can opener," she explained. "This is how it works. See?" Grabbing another can, she offered it to him with a strained smile. "Want to try it?"
In truth, he did. But not with Lori watching. He had made a fool of himself enough times this night to last him for the rest of his unnatural life.
"No. Thank you." He turned and she caught his bandaged hand. Her touch was comforting, that of a sympathetic friend. The sight of her stirred him in purely male places and would surely warm his heart if his pride allowed it.
"Look, Noble," she said, breaking the taut silence.
"I know you're confused and upset, and I can understand that—"
"Can you? Can you really understand what it's like to be stripped of everything that ever composed your existence?" Before he could stop himself, he gripped her shoulders. "Can you?"
With satisfaction he saw her tight swallow. Intimidating a woman, what a reprehensible thing to do, but at the moment he took comfort in exerting even this lowly show of control.
"When... when my husband died, I felt a lot like you might be feeling now." The sympathy in her voice was mirrored in her eyes. Tempted as he was to accept her tender offering, he clung instead to a more familiar succor: anger.
Anger he understood. It was anger, not sympathy, that he had championed against adversity.
"So, you understand, do you? How very reassuring," he replied with a mocking chuckle. "After all, how many humans could lose a loved one and liken it to being reborn in a place and time where they have no friends, no money, no home? Oh yes, dear lady, how truly fortunate I am that you understand. Because I do not understand anything except this— I do not wish to be here."
She flinched at the lash of his voice, but her gaze was steady and soft. Damn her. Couldn't she at least give him anger for anger, give him that bit of a refuge to hide himself in until he could reclaim his scattered senses?
"Unfortunately, Noble, wishing won't change anything," she said gently but firmly. "You're here. I'm here. And whether you like it or not, we're in this together. I'm the only friend you've got. Don't turn me away."
"Turn you away?" he sneered. "How could I possibly do that? After all, without you I cannot even see to my most basic of needs." Noble let go of her shoulder and flicked the front side of his pants. "I suppose that I owe you a belated
"Here, let me warm that up for you." She took his bowl, went to a box, performed some sort of magic trick with it, and perhaps a minute later returned. "Careful, it's hot."
The rising steam seemed more a witch's brew bubbling in a kettle after the hocus-pocus Lori had worked on it. He turned his attention to the tabletop and his gaze settled on a spoon. A spoon. Never had he believed that something so ordinary, so blessedly familiar, would give him a sense of reassurance.
"You need to eat, Noble." Taking up the spoon, she filled it and urged it to his lips. He gripped her wrist and raised his eyes to hers.
"Don't." He abruptly stood and said with forced calm, "I am fully capable of feeding myself, thank you. Being one of the few things I can manage without assistance, I would appreciate you not robbing me of that much self-sufficiency."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you or—or..."
Noble waved away her apology and began to stalk the kitchen's length. He forced himself to confront the various oddities, proving to the lot of them, as well as himself, that he was not afraid of the strange powers they possessed.
When he pushed down a lever and began to run a finger beneath the small whirring piece of silver, Lori cried out, "don't touch that! You'll cut yourself!" The next moment she was there, banging open a cabinet door and pulling out a can that she placed beneath the device.
"It's a can opener," she explained. "This is how it works. See?" Grabbing another can, she offered it to him with a strained smile. "Want to try it?"
In truth, he did. But not with Lori watching. He had made a fool of himself enough times this night to last him for the rest of his unnatural life.
"No. Thank you." He turned and she caught his bandaged hand. Her touch was comforting, that of a sympathetic friend. The sight of her stirred him in purely male places and would surely warm his heart if his pride allowed it.
"Look, Noble," she said, breaking the taut silence.
"I know you're confused and upset, and I can understand that—"
"Can you? Can you really understand what it's like to be stripped of everything that ever composed your existence?" Before he could stop himself, he gripped her shoulders. "Can you?"
With satisfaction he saw her tight swallow. Intimidating a woman, what a reprehensible thing to do, but at the moment he took comfort in exerting even this lowly show of control.
"When... when my husband died, I felt a lot like you might be feeling now." The sympathy in her voice was mirrored in her eyes. Tempted as he was to accept her tender offering, he clung instead to a more familiar succor: anger.
Anger he understood. It was anger, not sympathy, that he had championed against adversity.
"So, you understand, do you? How very reassuring," he replied with a mocking chuckle. "After all, how many humans could lose a loved one and liken it to being reborn in a place and time where they have no friends, no money, no home? Oh yes, dear lady, how truly fortunate I am that you understand. Because I do not understand anything except this— I do not wish to be here."
She flinched at the lash of his voice, but her gaze was steady and soft. Damn her. Couldn't she at least give him anger for anger, give him that bit of a refuge to hide himself in until he could reclaim his scattered senses?
"Unfortunately, Noble, wishing won't change anything," she said gently but firmly. "You're here. I'm here. And whether you like it or not, we're in this together. I'm the only friend you've got. Don't turn me away."
"Turn you away?" he sneered. "How could I possibly do that? After all, without you I cannot even see to my most basic of needs." Noble let go of her shoulder and flicked the front side of his pants. "I suppose that I owe you a belated
Similar Books
