Dark Passions at Death's Door

47 - In Need (of a Shower)

Limina Mortis

*    *    *

They came to rest in the foyer.

It opened up at the end to what could have been a hunting lodge. Ancient wooden logs were used in the olden style, exposed above.

On one end of the massive communal family room, a primordial bearskin rug lay in front of a vast fireplace. The brutish bear had to have been twenty-five feet tall when it was brought down. The deep burnished brown fur was scrunched a bit, as if Byron walked over it and didn't bother smoothing it out that often.

There were others. A couple primordial wolverine furs, some ancient elk skins. Here and there, black and red silk shimmered, covering the skins and furs. He must like laying on them in front of the fire.

Nїx shivered at the sight. She'd almost lost her mind, seeing her sisters closer to death than she'd ever remembered. Foresight wasn't there to save them. But they'd lived. They'd survived. And then his words had taken something inside her and breathed life into it.

Staring around at the abode, her mind uttered, Mother, Mama, I think I found heaven...

Byron stripped off his armor and shoved it into a closet on the left. Then he kicked off his shoes without untying the laces, settling them in the scant cubby on the right.

Once he'd gotten the tattered silk socks off, he threw them in a hamper adjacent to the cubby. A dozen such pairs were there as well. He walked over to the fireplace, leaning down and lighting a match. The prepared kindling and firewood there flared.

Nїx soaked in the sight of him leaning against the fireplace while it crackled to life. The flames reflected back into his jade eyes.

It reminded her of when she'd caught sight of the sizzling inferno in his eyes. A passion he kept in check by sheer will alone.

This image she never wanted to forget. And for a resounding moment she realized she never would. Then Nїx found herself curious. "You have servants?"

"Nope."

That meant... "You prepare the wood before you leave?"

"Yep. Gives me something to look forward to."

All this time, all he'd been able to look forward to was lighting a fire. His eyes lingered on the flames licking over the wood.

Did he dream about consuming and licking a female like that? The diamond in her mind shrieked YES.

Byron looked over at her. "You want, you can drop the armor there." He pointed to the closet he'd dumped his own armor in. "It's enchanted to repair damage to wargear, even the kind with heavy magicks in them. From what I see, your armor is a little busted up."

He had a blacksmith's closet? Wicked!

"There's a main shower back adjacent to the bedroom. On the left."

He pointed past a rather quaint kitchen with old mahogany drawers and a black marble island. When she saw the diabolically large refrigerator, stove, and the sink, her mind registered that these were rather high-end pieces.

Her voice turned observational, admiring, "You made renovations."

"Modern conveniences. Helps keep me grounded in the now. And the shower isn't half bad."

She dropped her armor in a rush inside the closet and was off. The hallway had several doors leading to a weight room, spare bedrooms – did he picture having guests, or kids? – and then into the main bedroom.