Page 19

Aerin walked through the kitchen, admiring the scale-free sink and the fish wrapped neatly in newspaper in the fridge; he had even written the names and dates on them. No trace of fish bones or seaweed anywhere, and the rubbish bin was empty. She opened the salt fridge on the porch out back to find he had organized her latest catches by species. He must have been really bored or trying to say thank you for saving him from her blood or the sea.

Heading down the basement, she noticed he wasn’t in his coffin, and her stomach sank. Please tell me he didn’t leave? What if he’d woken up hungry and gone into town again? She ran up the steps toward the front door when she heard a shrill cry echoing down the stairs.

“What is this torture device?” Gideon’s voice echoed down the hallway from the bathroom. “Why’s the water so hot?”

Aerin threw open the door to find Gideon naked, soaking wet, and baring his fangs at the shower as if his life were in danger. Her boiler was quite temperamental, but certainly not hot enough to burn a vampire.

“Aerin!” He covered himself, only to hiss when his shoulder went under the steaming water as he turned away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be naked.” Her cheeks heated, and she shielded her eyes. “I didn’t see anything.” He didn’t need to know she was lying, or that the blood had filled him out nicely. Lean muscle had replaced the pile of bones she found in the coffin only days ago.

“How can you possibly bear this temperature? It’s scalding; I’ve not felt such temperatures since the sun last touched my skin,” he panted, stepping out of the tub.

She handed him a towel from the rack, sneaking a peek at his naked torso; she hadn’t seen a naked man in far too long. She scolded herself and turned her back as he wrapped the fluffy dark green towel around his waist. She hoped he wouldn’t hear her heartbeat quicken.

Shaking off the impure thoughts of hard muscle and smooth pale skin, Aerin walked around him and checked the temperature.

“Careful,” he warned, grabbing her wrist, but she shook him off.

“I’m fine, it’s barely warm.” She turned off the shower and demonstrated how it worked, moving the brass handle left and right. “Who knew vampires were so dramatic. Left is cold, right is hot. Pull it out to turn it on,” she repeated, turning the knob to adjust the temperature. “I prefer the scolding temperatures, since it’s hard for me to feel the heat. Siren skin is thicker to protect us so that I can tolerate greater levels of cold,” she exclaimed, turning off the shower before she ran out of hot water.

“I hit the lever, and all of a sudden, my back was on fire.”

“Maybe being in the sea heightened your sensitivity to temperature. It should be fine now.”

“I didn’t know the hose at the top was going to start running. I was trying to fill the tub.”

“It’s a shower, so you can stand and wash yourself. I suppose they are after your time.”

“I wanted to be clean when you arrived home. It was only when I finished cleaning that I realized I was the source of the smell.” He grimaced.

“Two hundred years in a coffin and some spilt blood isn’t the best choice of cologne, but it’s not like you had any power over it. I doubt my coffin bath when I first pulled you up did much good,” she said, not wanting him to be ashamed of the odour.

“Care to tell me how I can fill the bath?” Gideon said nervously, eying the lever again.

Aerin reached forward and twisted the knob at the end of the clawfoot tub, so it started to fill with lukewarm water.

“So that’s how you fill it.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, and she noticed how his chest muscles and biceps tightened. She was staring, and he saw it in his narrowing gaze. Aerin smirked at his bashful smile as she admired his physique.

“We all have to learn at some point,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “There’s a fresh bar of plain soap beneath the sink. You can use the fresh sponges or cloths to wash with, whichever you prefer,” she said, not wanting to confuse him with a five-step skincare routine she used to keep her scales from drying out. “There is also a stick of deodorant. You put it under your arms to keep you from sweating or smelling for longer,” she said, taking out what her ex had left when he returned to the sea.

“Thank you, and I’m sure I’ll get the hang of all this quickly,” he said, reaching up to adjust the shower height, but before she could warn him about the loose screws, he pulled the nozzle from the wall.

Aerin shrieked as cold water sprayed them. Gideon cursed as she turned off the water main under the sink before they flooded the bathroom.

“Was that you getting used to it?” she asked, but she couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her lips when she saw his hair sticking to his face in heavy streaks and the puddles beneath their feet as the nozzle kept dripping.

“Apologies for my clumsiness.” He roughly dried his silvery blond hair. The extra bag of blood at breakfast had filled him out in all the right places. Perhaps she had been living alone for too long.

“For your hair,” she said, tossing him a towel; she watched him catch it with ease.

“I’m a walking disaster. You should turn me out on my rear end before I take the whole house down.” He ran his hands through his hair, getting it out of his face.

“I’m sure I can fix it,” he said with a wince, eyes lingering on her T-shirt hugging her curves, only for his gaze to fall on her extended black nails and shimmering scales brought out by the droplets on her skin; her siren-self was desperate to escape at the tiniest drop of water. She wondered if he saw her true form, would he look so enticed, or would he turn in disgust? Right now, he looked like he was craving more than just blood. She grabbed a towel for herself, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ve turned off the water to the shower, so I think you’re safe now. Just be careful the tub doesn’t overflow; I don’t want water leaking through the floor.”

“Back home, we have a wet room decorated with jewelled tiles, and servants who massage and wash us. I’d love to smell those oils and soaps again,” he said enthusiastically. His eyes lit up, and she hoped his memory had returned.