Silver Skin by D. L. McDermott

Author:D. L. McDermott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star Books

Chapter 11

Helene woke up in a strange room. She was not at Deirdre’s. The proportions of the chamber were too grand, the domed ceiling too high, the windows too large for that classical Beacon Hill dwelling. The walls were round like a turret, papered in a pink and green stripe with garlands of flowers at the top, and her bed had a tester with a green silk canopy. The hangings, the color scheme, and the shape of the room made her feel like a princess in a castle with a view of the sea.

Which meant she was at Miach’s, in the tower above the library. The whole room, including a frilly dressing table, was decorated in shades of white, pink, and green, so she was fairly certain that it was not his chamber, which made her feel both relieved and disappointed at the same time.

When she stretched her body beneath the cool cotton sheets, she decided that she was more relieved than disappointed. Someone had bandaged her thigh and put her to bed in her T-shirt and panties, but her mouth felt like sandpaper, and her hair was even more of a tangled mess than usual. Not sexy.

Her wound, when she peeled the bandage away, looked better than she expected, but she was definitely going to have a scar. It would be easily explained, a bicycle accident or hiking injury, just another one of the dents and scratches on her body to add to those left from her tomboy youth. She refused to be upset by this one, ugly as it was. It was a battle fought and won. Her memories were safe, and the next time that Fae bastard summoned her, there would be no forgetting him.

Fortunately the room had its own bath, also pink and green, and a basket of delicious smelling soaps and shampoos and lotions. And a razor. The bag Nieve had brought her at Deirdre’s turned up in the wardrobe, along with an assortment of silk and cotton robes and lounging pajamas, the kind Helene had always promised herself she would buy as soon as she had an apartment with more than one room and could reasonably be expected to lounge.

By the time the knock came at the door, she was showered, shampooed, shaved, and dressed in a pair of Indian block printed pants and a matching quilted jacket that fell to around her knees.

Helene opened the door to find a very relieved Beth on the threshold. Beth threw her arms around Helene and hugged her. And the petite archaeologist cum Druid was not herself the hugging type.

“You slept a day and a night. Miach said you were fine but I couldn’t help worrying,” said Beth. “How bad was it?” she asked. “The geis I mean.”

Helene rolled up her trouser leg. “Ta-da! No more memory eating snake that can turn into fireworks and also, I think, an actual snake.” Unless that had been the pain and the whiskey playing tricks on her .

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