I pace the kitchen, and for what has to be the twentieth time, Ruth sighs in annoyance. She swings open the refrigerator door, the bun on the top of her head bobbing as she yanks items out. Like a hummingbird fluttering from flower to flower, she buzzes from cupboard to cupboard. The next thing I know, a glass of blood is thrust into my hand.
"You are driving me mad," the yeti says, marching back to the island and vigorously chopping vegetables. "The girl has the flu. She will get over it with some rest and good food."
"How do you know? She has been sick for almost twenty-four hours and is showing no signs of getting better."
Ruth doesn't so much as flinch as I bark my question. "I researched it. Which you could do yourself instead of wearing a trail into the floor."
"I did that last night when she got sick." I toss back the blood and slam my glass on the counter.
Last night was miserable for Cordelia. Her body was rejecting everything she put in it. The sheets on the side of the bed where she slept were soaked through from her overheated body. I wanted to change them for her, but she said it hurt to stand. The last thing I wanted was to cause her more discomfort. So, I kept guard over her, making sure I was there every time she so much as turned.
Ruth placed a steaming mug in my hand. "Take that to her. It has honey and lemon and will help her to fight the sickness."
I thank my housekeeper and head upstairs.
Cordelia is fast asleep, trying to catch up on what she missed out on last night. I almost feel bad for needing to wake her, so I tiptoe my way inside and set the concoction Ruth made on the nightstand. Sitting next to her hip, I brush Cordelia's damp hair from her face. She is paler than usual, the freckles sprinkled over the bridge of her nose are less golden. If I hadn't read about the flu in several articles, I would think she was dying.
Her eyelashes flutter and her colorless lips part. As if it is the hardest feat she has ever faced, she wrenches her eyes open.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
"Horrible," she squeaks. "I need my inhaler, please."
"Of course," I say, twisting around to grab it from the nightstand. Instead of giving it to her, I pop off the cap and hold it to her lips, supporting the back of her head so she can lean up just enough to take in the medication.
"Thank you," she whispers as she lies back down.
"You don't have to thank me," I say. "Listen, Ruth gave me some herbal tea with honey and lemon. She says it will help you to feel better. Do you think I could move you into one of these chairs just for a moment and you could drink a little? Then I could change the sheets really quick? I don't want you sleeping in these anymore. They're all sweaty from last night and I want you to be comfortable in clean sheets."
She groans. "I don't want to..."
I run the back of my hand over her cheek. "Please, Delia. Try for me?"
She sighs and after a few seconds, nods her agreement. "Okay, but only for a few minutes. And you have to help me because I don't think I can stand." She looks at me for another second before adding, "And I don't want you to think I'm a wuss. The flu hits me harder because of my asthma."
I stand and don't give her a chance to do the same. I sweep her into my arms and carry her to my favorite chair that sits in front of the window. "I don't think you are a wuss. I've watched how much this sickness has drained you. Not even one of those big yetis could withstand this."
She gives me a weak smile and I eat it up. It's been almost a full day since I've seen her happy.
With her tea in hand, she follows my movements as I set to work changing the bed. It feels good to have her attention solely on me. My arms flex a little more and I'm overly aggressive changing the sheets. So what if I'm acting like a damn peacock with my feathers displayed. I might as well entertain her a little with the boring chore.
Her grey eyes track me and my overzealous snapping of the sheets over the rim of the mug, and when she lowers it to her lap, she has a smirk on her face.
I'm leaning over the mattress, tugging down the corners of the fitted sheet when I meet her amused gaze. "What are you smirking at?"
She shrugs and licks her chapped lips. "You. I've never seen such a sexy bed-making show before. You should put that on OnlyFans. You'd make a killing."
I chuckle. "I see sick Delia likes to bring the jokes."
She holds up her free hand. "I'm not joking! People will pay for almost anything on the internet these days. And your biceps while you're changing those sheets are nearly pornographic." She raises a brow. "I'd subscribe."
"Be careful. If I'm bringing in the big bucks with my bed-making skills, I'm going to make you hold your own by selling feet pics."
"Gross," she says, wrinkling her nose. She turns to look out the window again, taking in the low-hanging gray clouds. "You and I have gone walking during the day. At Evermore...the sun seemed to have adverse effects on vampires even when it was cloudy."
I finish spreading out the comforter and toss the pillows onto the bed as I say, "The sun is different in this realm. It isn't something we have to worry about. Humans are a little harsher with the way they treat their realm and in turn, they don't have the protections they once had."
"Oh, now you're an environmentalist. Another hot attribute."
I shake my head at her teasing. "Do you want me to help you back into bed?"
She takes what must be the last sip of the tea and sits it on the windowsill. "Sure, but only if you stay with me," she says, and her tone is giving the banter we were just having, but her eyes are betraying something else.
Nerves. She's nervous about asking me that. Why, I don't know, when we've been sleeping in the same bed every night since she ran away.
I place her back in bed and sit beside her. We remain like that for a few minutes, lingering in comfortable silence. Something has shifted between us. I've been attempting to find out where she has drawn the line. It appears everything, so far, is on the table. We've flirted and slept in the same bed. She's come out of the shower in nothing but a towel and kicked me out of my own room. It's friendly with an undertone of sexual tension. At least, that's how it feels for me.
I place my hand beside hers on the mattress, brushing my pinky against hers. "I hope you get better soon. I'm starting to get on Ruth's last nerve."
She glances down at our fingers and slides hers underneath mine. "How so?"
I try to ignore the thumping in my chest. "With all my pacing and worrying. I'm constantly freaking out, coelhinha. I don't like seeing you like this."
She hooks her pinky with mine and looks up at me. "That's really sweet...I—thank you for taking care of me."
"You're welcome."
I tend to her every need for the rest of the day. No request is too ridiculous. I fetch her the soup Ruth makes and serve it to her in bed. Then I hold her hair when it all makes a reappearance. She sends me on little errands to her room to grab cozy socks and her favorite sweater. I even sit through the sappiest human romance movie for her. I'm ready for her to feel better. I miss the routine we made together.
The atmosphere in my home used to be so solemn. The bright furnishings and open floor plan couldn't chase away the loneliness. I never pictured it being filled. Long ago, I accepted that I didn't belong with my people, and I wouldn't find more than friendship with the Yetis. And then Delia happened.
I had plans, I still do, yet she has detoured them just a bit. This is a new course I enjoy. It has so many possibilities and turns the future I was imagining on its head. For the first time in my immortal life, I feel like the lucky one. The one who gets the girl and the bigger dream. I just might come out on top after all.