"Right," Seth eventually replies, and Storm rests back, crossing his arms.
"A bit of advice, because I'm the fucking nice guy, don't leave the house for a few weeks," he tells them both.
"Why?" Killian asks.
"Your family locked up everyone in this place, and you added a fair chunk. That test I made you do, everyone here has done. That means they are good souls, but even good people can't resist getting revenge on the ones who locked them up," he warns them.
"We got it," Killian tensely replies, pushing up off the table. He looks down at me for a second, and there is so much guilt in his eyes before he leaves the room with Seth following after him.
"Can I help you clean up, Coxen?" Jade asks as Coxen starts picking up the plates. He nods, and I help her pile the plates before she takes them to the sink with Coxen.
"Tomorrow morning, I'm taking you for a tour," Storm informs me.
"Are you now?" I reply.
"What else are you going to do here?" he asks, and he has me there. It takes me a few seconds to come up with an idea.
"Plan a way to escape," I reply, and he only laughs. Why am I starting to like his feckin’ sexy laugh?
"I will be waiting for you in the morning. It's a date," he grins, looking happy that he got his own way.
"It isn't a date!" I shout after him, hearing his laugh for a response before he disappears around the corner. What a feckin’ eegit!
"Seems you have a date," Jade chuckles as she comes to get more of the plates off the table.
"No, I have one feckin’ asshole who thinks he is getting a date when in reality he has another thing coming entirely," I remark, but Jade only grins at me before walking off. Why does it feel like Storm is going to be nothing but trouble?
Chapter 21
I brush a hand across my face when I feel something tickling my nose before I roll over and bury my head into my pillow. Suddenly, something pulls my hair hard, and I cry out, sitting up and widening my eyes at the sight of Kit sitting on my pillow, a big clump of my curly red hair in his tiny hand.
"What the feckin’ hell is wrong with you?" I ask him, rubbing my head where it is sore from the missing clump. Kit just points a little finger towards his mouth, and I sigh. I know exactly what is wrong; he is hungry.
"Even if you are hungry, you can't go around pulling my hair out while I'm sleeping. I might accidentally stab you or something," I remark, and Kit makes a sound that suspiciously sounds like a laugh as I climb out of bed, feeling the cold floor under my feet as I go to the box at the end of my bed. I pull my bag out, searching in the side compartments until I find a packet of biscuits that my mum must’ve packed for me. There are also a few tea bags in the pocket to no doubt have with the biscuits. I wish I could give her a thank you hug. I swallow the sadness that builds in my throat when I think about my mum and how worried she must be, never mind the thought I might not see her again. Reminding myself to be strong can only last for a little while.
I remember how determined Seth looked about someone coming to rescue him and Killian, so there is hope there. I need to get close to Seth, at least close enough that he might tell me more about this rescue plan of his.
"Here you go. Make it last as I don't know how long we are going to be here." Kit, the greedy bastard, steals the biscuit I offer him and jumps off the bed, taking it and my hair, like a prize he won, with him. There is no description of crazy that suits Kit enough to call him it. I quickly use the bathroom before coming back into the bedroom and looking at the pile of clothes Storm got for us. After searching through the three long dresses that are handmade—pretty but not me at all—and finally getting to the bottom of the pile, I find a long black top and black shorts. I pull them on, tucking the shirt on one side into the shorts before pulling my shoes on and running a brush through my hair, which does little to control its crazy ass. I pick up my jar of peanut butter and my tea bags before leaving my room and going down the stairs.
I turn into the kitchen, pausing at the sight of a topless Killian cooking breakfast. I nearly drop my precious peanut butter as I mentally drool over his firm, muscular back that swoops down into a tight waist. It only gets worse as he turns around, showing me his large chest that is toned, and he has a tattoo over his heart which is a circle made of knots, yet there is nothing inside it. I gulp as I look down at his crazy perfect six pack and the v-line that disappears into his low hanging joggers.
"Your jaw is on the floor, Karma," Killian says.
"It isn't, you are seeing things. This is nothing," I say, nodding at his chest as I walk to his side, placing the peanut butter on the side and the tea bags next to it.
"The way you just looked at me could never be described as nothing. I won't forget it, that's for sure," Killian responds.
"Are you always this charming and romantic?" I ask him.
"Are you always this good at avoiding everything?" he counters, but he doesn't wait for an answer as he picks one of the tea bags up. "Yorkshire tea, the best kind. I'm a big tea fan."
"I don't mind a cup of tea, but I'm more a peanut butter fan. You can have the tea if you want," I offer, and he looks down at me with a surprised smile.
"You don't have to give me them," he tells me.
"I want to, honestly. Though that French toast looks awesome and would be a great thank you trade," I tell him, accidently sweeping my hand across his muscular arm. Yep, that was a total accident alright.
"Alright, but I was making the house breakfast anyway," he tells me, grinning as he offers me a plate to hold and slides the toast off the pan onto it. I find a knife and cover my toast in peanut butter before going to sit at the table.
"You're up early anyway. I didn't have you down as a morning person," he says as he carries on cooking.
"I'm not, are you?" I ask, avoiding the reason I'm up early.
"I like mornings, call me weird. There is something about watching the sunrise and loving the pure silence...but then I realised this morning, you can't see the sunrise in here. There is something deeply fucked up about that," he mutters, leaving me a little lost for what to say to him. "At least it is quiet though."
"So how long have you been a god of justice? Are the rumours true that you are immortal while in service?" I ask him, because why not? I've heard a million rumours about the famous gods of justice, and I'm curious what is true.
"Since our father was killed by the higher gods about fifty years ago...and yes, we became immortal from the moment we inherited his powers," he explains to me.
"What do you mean he was killed?" I ask.
"Have you not heard the rumour about the curse of justice?" he asks as he continues cooking, and I try to rack my brain about why that sounds familiar, but nothing comes to mind. When I don't answer, he looks back to see my blank face, and he sighs. "The powers of justice are a strong thing to control, and they are similar to the higher gods’ powers. So, one of my ancestors grew too powerful, too old and lost all control. He attacked the higher gods, and they had no choice but to kill him and then pass a law called the curse of justice."
"Why would he attack them? What is the curse of justice?" I ask, captivated by his story, though he doesn't look at me much as he talks.
"The curse of justice is a law that states when a god of justice turns a hundred years old, they must be killed, and their child will take on the powers for the next hundred years," he explains to me.
