The Amber Shift

Forty-One

Noelle

"Avery, I don't want to talk about it anymore," I say, flopping back onto my bed and clicking on the TV.

She huffs and hops up next to me, snatching the remote from my hand and sending the TV back into the cabinet. "Well, I do. My brother loves you. You love him. You're mates. Tell me again why you aren't together."

I sit up and lean against the tufted headboard, stretching my legs out and crossing them. Elijah had told me not to share any details with Avery about their mother and what happened to her; he didn't want to tell her until after her first shift. The less she knows, the safer she'll be.

"We just can't, Ave. I don't know what else to say."

Avery opens her mouth to respond, but a quiet knock stops her. She jumps off the bed and runs to the door, gripping the knob. "Who is it?"

"It's Elijah, Avery. Can I come in?"

My heart stutters and I sit up straighter. Avery looks over her shoulder with a questioning glance, and I nod. "Let him in."

She opens the door and her brother stalks past her. Our mouths fall open at the sight of him. Bruises and scratches litter his torso, and one side of his jaw is puffy.

"What the hell happened to you? You look like a pulverized piece of meat," Avery says.

"Yeah, well, you should see Killian." He stops at the foot of my bed and the urgency which he came in with drains from his body. "Can I please have a moment alone with you?"

Avery throws up her hands and shakes her head. "Don't bother; I'm leaving."

When the door closes behind her, I scurry out of the bed. Dried blood and dirt cling to Elijah's body, and I hurry to the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth. "What happened between you two when I left?"

"We tried knocking some sense into each other," he groans, sitting on the edge of my bed.

I dab at the scratches on his torso with the washcloth and cock my head to the side. "You fought. Because of me."

He shakes his head and places his palms flat on the mattress, leaning back to give me better access to his skin. "We fought because he said some shit he shouldn't have said and because I am a stubborn ass."

I consider both reasons and eventually nod. "Sounds about right."

His eyelids drop and his flat stare says he is not amused by my dazzling wit. I smile and keep wiping, but the blood and dirt are just too much.

"Come on, let's get you into the tub," I suggest, holding out my hand. "You're getting my comforter all dirty."

He raises an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if that's such a good—"

"Shh. I just want to help clean you up. You're disgusting, you know." I'm trying to keep the mood light, because I have a feeling whatever he came in here to tell me will not be pleasant.

"All right, all right," he concedes, taking my hand and following me into my bathroom.

I fill the tub with steaming hot water and eucalyptus spearmint bubble bath, and the comforting scent permeates the air almost immediately. "Get in," I order.

"You're bossy," he says, pushing his shorts from his hips and kicking them to the side. "I kind of like it, though."

I flush and avert my eyes from the area below his waist as he sinks into the water. "Does it feel good? Is the temperature okay?" I ask, but his expression tells me all I need to know.