That was enough to make me giggle. "Brielle would help."
"Probably," he agreed as he scooted back and pushed to his feet. "And I promise the couch is a lot more comfortable than the kitchen floor."
When he offered me his hand, I actually took it. Like a perfect gentleman, Kanik helped me up, and then he turned me to the living room.
"I was thinking," he said, "that while you recover, maybe you'd like to read about the history of what happened aboveground after the fall of mankind?"
"Yes!" I gasped.
So he gave me a little nudge forward. "Then you go sit. I'll find books for both of us. That way we can give your body a little time to get over that shock."
But I was okay. Heading into the living room, I only swayed slightly. Less than half an hour ago, I'd been nearly incapacitated by a single drop of venom, and now I was fine. I also realized my body no longer ached. It was as if the rush through my system had purged everything.
Hopefully even my fear of my very male friends.
FiftyZasen
Ididn't need to kill the girl. I wouldn't ever. Rymar had gotten her legally registered as a refugee, which meant she now had some rights in Lorsa. More than all of that, she'd helped.
Which meant I didn't need to keep her at a distance, because that was the problem with Ayla. She was so innocent and curious. The girl was honest and kind. Everything about her made her seem vulnerable, but underneath was something amazing.
And the more I learned about her, the more impressed I was. Oh, she was cute. Her face was beautiful. Her body was too lean for my taste, but we were working to fix that. She needed to put on at least ten more pounds just to be considered healthy.
But if she was now a refugee, then she didn't need to be held prisoner in my home. It didn't matter if we'd been doing that as subtly as possible. We'd still kept her locked away from sunlight, flowers, people, and everything else she'd come aboveground to experience.
And it wasn't fair.
Ayla had done nothing wrong. Maybe we'd had a good reason not to trust her, but that hadn't been her fault. Yes, we were resentful of what the Moles did to our people, but she hadn't known. The men down there had kept her ignorant to make abusing her easier.
Mental abuse, emotional, and even physical, they had done it all. If she'd been there any longer, sexual abuse would've been next. In all of this, Ayla was the victim. Over and over, shitty things happened to her, but she just kept picking herself up and pushing through it. What bothered me the most was I'd been one of those shitty things.
Not anymore. Starting today, I was going to make it all up to her, even if she didn't understand why. Not only had she proven herself to us, but she'd helped. That girl tried harder than anyone else I'd ever met - even me. And the first step to setting her free was to make sure she had the clothes - and shoes - to go wherever she wanted.
So I headed across town to find yet another one of my childhood friends. I honestly didn't know how long I'd known Lessa, but it felt like she'd always been a part of our group. Maybe it had been middle school? Back when we'd first met, she'd just been one of the boys. One more tailed person to sneak out, run around with, and to get us into too much trouble.
And then we'd all grown up.
Now, she was a successful seamstress. In truth, her clothes were sought out by everyone in Lorsa. She made deals with various Reaper tribes to purchase fabrics and supplies. For other cloth, she paid apprentices to make it for her. Her patterns ranged from demure to seductive, so if anyone could figure out how to make the right clothes for Ayla, I knew it would be her.
When I reached her house, I avoided the front porch and made my way around to the shop in the back. There, I knocked on the door, hearing the sound of equipment shuffling inside. It took a moment, then the door opened to reveal a beautiful, curvaceous, sandy-colored Dragon woman. Her eyes immediately raked over me and a smile touched her lips.
"Zasen, you haven't come to visit me since before you headed off to negotiate with the Reapers," Lessa teased.
I just shook my head, stopping her before she could think this was personal. "I actually came to hire a seamstress."
Immediately, her flirtatious expression changed to annoyance. "For that fucking Mole you took in?"
"Her name is Ayla," I told her.
"And she's still a Mole," Lessa shot back. "I have no fucking clue what you were thinking, bringing one of them into our town. Do you have any idea the sort of things she could send back to them?"
"Nothing they don't already know," I assured her. "Besides, I know you need the money. I'll pay you double your usual rate if you'll measure her and make the kind of clothes she'll actually wear."
Lessa slammed the door in my face.
Well, this wasn't going how I'd hoped. I'd thought the idea of making much more than the fabric was worth would convince her to take the job. I'd even dared to believe that maybe our years of friendship would be enough to make her listen to me. But this? Granted, it was how Lessa usually acted. I'd just raised my hand to bang on her door again when it opened one more time.
On the other side, she had her sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, had put on her boots, and she was carrying a bag with all of her supplies.
"Fine," she told me, "but you had better believe I am charging you double for everything."
I draped my arm over her shoulder and turned her towards the road that led back to my house. "Lessa, she's a nice girl."
"She is a Mole," Lessa reminded me. "I don't care how nice she is. That one little thing trumps all else."
"And she escaped them. They tried to kill her. To me, that means the Moles don't like her either."
Lessa grunted, walking a few steps before she said anything else. Then, "Did they chain her out?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "They stripped her down to her underwear and this thin little dress thing. Maybe a slip? It was mostly see-through. They said she was being sacrificed to the Dragons, so they left her with nothing."
For a little too long, Lessa didn't say anything. Her tail, however, spoke volumes. The thing snapped from side to side, her stinger partially revealed, proving how irritated she was. Then again, I'd always known she hated Moles. That was why I didn't expect her to like Ayla - never mind that she might see the girl as competition - but I was hoping the extra income might make her overlook all of that.
"So how do you know she isn't a spy?"
I chuckled at that, but the sound was dry. "Because a spy wouldn't kill Moles the way she did. A spy wouldn't be more worried about a child's life than getting her information back."
"Oh."
