Tyme

VI

By the time August returned with Lucia, the sun had fallen dark, and Tyme had joined Pan and Charlie in conversation, her clothes laid out to dry. Her eyepatch was already pulled over her eye, the girl not seeming to care it was damp. The loud bang of the door announced the pair's entrance, and the three looked up in surprise.

August stood beside a tall, perfectly neat woman who appeared to be in her late forties. Her hands rested on her slender hips, adorned with beautifully manicured nails. She didn’t, Tyme noticed, appear to wear much jewelry, only a simple tarnished wedding band that hung on a gold chain around her neck. Was she a widow?

“Took ya long ‘nough. Lucia, I’m begging you, painkillers, please.” Pan had turned his attention to the woman beside August, crimson eyes pleading for relief. Sighing, the woman shook her head at him, her golden locks twirling dramatically around her head.

“Payment first.” A long, polished nail tapped her pale cheek, and, sighing, Pan stood, grunting. August smirked, slipping around the two, taking Pan’s place on the couch.

“Let the teasin’ begin.” He whispered, seeming not to notice they had an extra visitor. Tyme shook her head, turning her attention back to Lucia and Pan.

“Oh, honey, wha’ happened? Those’re some bad burns, dear. Why’d ya get up?” The boy’s eyes rolled dramatically, and stiffly running his fingers through his fiery locks, he muttered something that seemed to be… Well, impolite.

“Ya mind repeating that, dear?” Suddenly dangerous, the woman pinched his ear, dragging the yelping Pan into the other room. More protests followed, and for a long moment, the three sat and listened to the bickering that ensued. Suddenly, it fell silent, and Tyme looked at August in quiet confusion. The boy smiled, then, seeming to notice the guard that sat on the floor in front of them, furrowed his brows.

“You missed it, since you decided to ditch me. He was nearly shot in the head. We decided it wasn’t safe for him on the street, so we took him in.”

“Sorry about before. The name’s Charlie. I’ll be heading out tomorrow, don’t worry.” Offering his hand a bit nervously, the man smiled. Softening a bit, August took it, shaking it politely. Humans really were amazing creatures.

A sudden banging and muffled screams came from the room, and all except August looked at the doorway with utter horror. Wasn’t Lucia supposed to be helping, not hurting? They weren’t sounds of healing; they were sounds of torture. Tyme went to stand, only to find August’s hand on her shoulder, a reassuring grin plastered on his face.

Humans, she decided, had gone insane.

Before she could push August’s hand off her shoulder, Lucia sauntered in, her once neat hair now a frazzled mess. Her blue eyes burned with triumph as she towed the freshly bandaged Pan back into the room, still gripping his ear. Cruel.

“Always such a difficult patient. He’ll be fine. Healing like them werewolves Ol’ Phil rants ‘bout, like always.” Releasing his ear to pat him on the back, Lucia suddenly froze, noticing August wasn’t alone.

“Visitors? And a girl, at that.” She sauntered up to Tyme, looking her over. Shifting uncomfortably, Tyme lowered her eye, refusing to meet the woman’s gaze. Without warning, Lucia suddenly lunged for Tyme’s chest, placing her hand on her breasts for a long moment, her eyes glazing over with thought.

At this inappropriate action, Pan buried his forehead into his hands, hiding his face in shame as August began laughing hysterically. Tyme sat in absolute shock, not sure what she should do. Never, in her entire existence…

“A bit small, bu’ you boys did good. She’s a good one.” The woman praised, straightening up as she removed her hands.

“Uh, Lucia?”