The daylight greeted Eve with hollow, cloudy, emptiness. She stirred, loose-limbed and sticky, blankets whispering as they fell wholly off the bed. Samir was nowhere to be seen.

Small mercies.

Gathering the vestiges of her broken pride, Eve padded into the bathroom to take a second shower, not even bothering to tie her hair out of the way. It needed another rinse as well. Her reflection stared at her, somewhat accusingly, as she combed through the cleansed strands.

“Urgh,” She said to it, forcing her eyes away. “Cut me some slack.”

Her body still ached far too much for restricting clothing today, so she pulled on a soft, cream colored dress lined in violet and let her wet curls drip onto the fabric. They left an unpleasant dampness in the small of her back, but it evaporated quickly in the afternoon heat.

Having brought herself into somewhat acceptable shape, Eve surveyed the motel room. It was empty. Too empty. Samir’s ruined suit jacket still hung over the back of the chair, but not a single other trace of the man remained. The second bed was pristine, untouched, and the furniture was positioned exactly as it had been the previous day. Her lips turned down, Eve stuffed her dirty laundry back in the plastic bag, and reached instead for her sack of supplies, tossing it atop the tiny round table.

A piece of paper was the first to come out. She proceeded to shred it, thoroughly and methodically, atop the water-stained tabletop. Then she swept it up into a neat little pile, scooping it into her palm. Her senses expanding outwards, Eve found exactly what she was looking for. A pensive sort of monotony, several doors to her right. She inhaled deeply, allowing it to fill her body, limbs going lax and stiff all once. A sort of brainless languidness, the kind that sets in when too much time has passed in front of a television set. The sensation flowed through her in a smooth arc, trickling into the shredded paper, and she opened her palm, blowing part of the boredom out with an exhale of breath.

From atop her hand, half of the tiny scraps of paper burst through the air, arcing a neat line from the tips of her fingers and out the door.

Leaving the plastic bags laying atop the table, Eve followed the trace out of the motel room, the door scraping on its hinges as she yanked it forward. From the terraced hallway she could see out to the parking lot. It was humid outside, hot enough that her hair began to frizz immediately, pulling up and off her scalp. The trail fell to the floor, and energy returned to her body, a familiar sort of sensation similar to the snap of a rubber band.

The car was gone.

Of fucking course.

Samir had taken the car, and he had left her stranded here.

Eve supposed that she’d been in worse situations in the past, but somehow, they had never stung in quite the same way. Humans were rarely grateful for her help. Despite that, Eve had to admit that is exactly what she had tried to be.

Helpful. To Samir.

Fat bit of good it had done her.

Closing her eyes and wishing that there were even a little bit of air moving and stirring the folds of her dress, Eve cast her senses out again, in a wider net this time. Lust, again. A common sensation. More boredom from the hallway. A faint anxiety, somewhere down the block. And directly beneath her -

Fury.

Disdain, mixed with bitter jealousy. Her lip curled with the strength of that sensation, utterly misplaced in her waking exhaustion, but making her muscles go rigid nevertheless.

Eve swallowed, leaning against the stucco wall, struggling to stay upright with the strength of the sheer dislike flowing into her mind.

Yes, she shuddered. This would do.

She blew the rest of the paper out from her hand, and again, it burst through the air, out towards where the car had been parked then further towards the road, confirming her suspicions.

Samir had left.

It was almost cruel, the disappointment that shuddered through her, the printer paper fluttering like sad, corporate confetti to the earth.

Alone again.

Back to her regularly scheduled programming.

There was a client somewhere in New York that wanted to see her. She supposed that she could always go see them next, although the prospect of reading another fortune after the past several days was slightly unappealing. At least the motel could call her a cab. It would take some time though, so she should make the request now.

Stiff and aching, Eve shuddered her way down the stairs, one hand clasped firmly on the railing. The temperature felt even more stifling downstairs, as though the air had grown entirely stagnant, suffocating. Gasoline and cigarettes lingered in her nostrils.

Ashes scattered across the tops of her sneakers. She kicked them off, scowling, and turned to face the man leaning against the wall beside the lobby, just beneath the staircase heading up to the second floor.

He had a cruel, entirely disinterested look in his eyes as he pressed the cigarette back between his lips. The color of his hair was similar to hers - a crimson, but clearly artificial bright red. It swung down into his face, long enough to be tied into a short ponytail, but short enough that it didn’t quite touch the tops of his shoulders. A tattoo, indecipherable behind the collar of his shirt peeked onto his neck.

Eve did her best to ignore him, feeling the irritation in his very soul as he watched her walk by.

Fate didn’t seem interested in cooperating.

“The fuck you looking at?” he asked, exhaling a low curl of smoke. It hovered without dissipating around his face for several seconds, obscuring the rigidly straight line of his eyebrows.

Eve snorted but didn’t respond, dodging around the rigid lines of the man’s glare. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrists, shoving her backwards where she’d tried to step around him to enter the motel lobby. Eve frowned, wincing slightly at the strength of that man’s grip, and proceeded to kick him firmly in the shin.

The redhead hissed out a string of curses but only grabbed her other hand, pinning her against the crumbling motel wall, pain weeping into the dislike she’d already been struggling to wade past. This was precisely why she disliked humans. Such frivolous bravado - such useless opinions for strangers that had nothing to do with them.

As though the man had sensed her string of thoughts, he leaned in, close enough that the man’s words left a thin sheen of disgust tracing along her skin, hips and legs lined up with the front of her body.

“You,” he breathed. “Trash like you drew our leader’s attention? Why?”

Eve snarled, slamming her head against the stranger’s, ignoring the ringing in her skull in favor of swinging her knee up and up, between his legs.

The stranger howled.

His grip on her wrists loosened slightly, but not for long enough that Eve could slip out.

When he regained some sense of self, the strength of his grip dug into her wrists with strength enough to bruise, twisting the skin there, and there was suddenly something sharp pressed into her gut.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“You,” he said again, the word taking on some unfamiliar darkness. “Looking for a second lease on life?” Eve snorted.

If only he knew.

Eve was not afraid to die.

She supposed it was some strange sort of miracle that she had held on for this long. At times like these, existence felt more like a punishment. For a brief moment, the woman wished that the stranger would kill her. Put her out of her misery and absolve her of this responsibility she felt. Perhaps then, she could rest, and the weight upon her soul would finally grow - if even slightly - lighter.

Anything to feel less heavy.

The man spit the cigarette to the ground, grinding his heel into it. The ember’s glow winked out but seemed to linger briefly amongst the strands of his hair. She almost wanted to tell him to quit smoking. That life was too short for humanity to waste it on such useless pleasures.

“Get out of my way,” is what came out of her mouth instead.

The stranger only held on tighter, a scowl pulling at the folds of his lips, drawing them into a single, harsh line. “No can do. Leader said you were not to leave.” He was pretty, Eve supposed. An angular sort of face that she expected to see in a magazine, and not in the middle of nowhere amongst fields and fields of vegetables.

“Screw you and your leader,” Eve cursed. She didn’t want to use any magic if she didn’t have to. There was still so much pain and exhaustion still coursing through her limbs that frankly, she wasn’t sure how well it would go over. “I need to go.”

“Spunky. But Samir wouldn’t like it if I let go of you now.” She began to struggle in earnest at those words, the lingering sting of humiliation hanging at the corners of her consciousness. Of course it was Samir.

What did he want to see her for anyways?

“Let go,” She bit out, and the man only pressed closer, smelling of tobacco and resentment.

“No.”

“This is harassment,” she hissed into his ear. “I’m going to kick you again in a minute.”

“You’re welcome to do your worst. I don’t have a single clue as to why the leader was so concerned with you leaving. It’s pretty clear that you’re not going anywhere as long as I don’t want you to.”

Gathering her courage, Eve looked up at the man, resisting the urge to flinch in the face of his angular, furious gaze, and spit at his eyes.

He sputtered, grip on her wrists bruising, causing her to hiss. Her legs kicked outwards on instinct, to no avail. He was taller, and as much as she hated to admit it, stronger. And now, angry as well.

“You bitch,” the man hissed, blinking the mess from his eyes and cheeks.

“Call me that again,” Eve dared, the heel of her sneaker connecting with the first of the bruises she’d left along the man’s shin. “I’ll make sure you thoroughly regret it.”

“And I’ll make sure you’re unconscious if you continue acting out,” the man snarled. Eve writhed, back arching, doing her best to snake her way out of that domineering hold without the use of magic.

All she’d wanted was to call a cab.

Why did everything in life have to be so difficult?

“Arman,” cut in a low, commanding voice, simmering with fury. “Remove your hands before I rid you of them entirely.” The baritone should not have been soothing given the circumstances, but the immediate obeyal - Eve slipping off the wall and directly into Samir’s waiting arms quieted the tumultuous storm in her heart.

Samir was so quiet. So quiet and unlike anything else in her world. Patient. Like a marble carving, unmoving and impartial to the flow of time. It had been all of one day, and already, Eve was terrified of her growing desire for that peace. She took a slow inhale - amber and pine - as Samir pressed her into his chest. He had changed clothes. The suit he was wearing was a clean, impeccable black. A series of stunning silver rings decorated his fingers, diamonds pressed through the piercings of his ears. His hair was freshly styled. A cigarette - the same brand that the stranger had been smoking - dangled between the fingers of his left hand.

His right arm was wrapped around her midriff and across her chest, fingers near her neck, holding her close.

Arman - that antagonistic thug - had sunk to his knees with his head bowed. The disdain Eve had felt winked out of existence as his eyes grew wide in fear. Samir flicked his cigarette at the man. It didn’t touch him, but it landed just beside his knee, amongst the stained concrete, and fizzled faintly.

“Care to explain?” Samir said finally, when the quiet had stretched on for too long, and when Eve’s pulse beneath his fingertips had quieted slightly.

“Just trying to follow your orders, sir,” Arman murmured, deflating slightly.

“And what, pray tell, were my orders, Arman?” This side of Samir was somehow slightly unexpected. A frigid crispness in his voice. The detached cruelty in his gaze. The fury building between his brow and at the corners of his lips. Arman made a strange sound under his breath. Samir’s finger stroked along her neck, along her pulse, once, as though to reassure Eve. “What was that?”

“To make sure the woman was safe,” Arman admitted, in a small voice. “But she’s safe! She was just being so difficult-”

“Arman.”

Eve felt goosebumps ripple down her spine at the sharpness with which Samir said his subordinate’s name. The guard shut his mouth with an audible swallow. Eve pulled out of Samir’s grasp, feeling fresh irritation well in her chest.

“Samir,” She said, venomous. “This was unnecessary.”

“Forgive me,” the man said immediately, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I did not think you needed the protection. I simply did not wish to lose track of you. Something told me you’d disappear within hours of being awake, and I could not risk the chance of that happening.”

Eve didn’t understand. The stiffness of her jaw was telling. “I hardly know you.”

“You saved my life. I am not the type to leave a debt unpaid.”

“Unnecessary.” She repeated.

In truth, Eve was slightly curious about her own reaction to the man. But she did not wish to build any sort of relationship off of unpaid debts. Too often in her past, that had not ended well.

Fake friends were worse than no friends at all. Not that Eve made friends anymore, not after so many years. It simply wasn’t worth the heartache.

Samir pulled her back in, and the world grew soft and quiet again. Peaceful in a way that Eve had not known in a hundred years.

It was almost blinding. The sound of crickets in the parking lot, the cashier inside the motel popping bubbles of gum, and Arman’s dry swallow starkly present in her mind.

Samir’s lips were warm; barely touching the shell of her ear. Eve hadn’t had this in so long.

He was flirting with her. Blatantly.

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” Samir said. “Think of this as the actions of a mad man, if you must. But I must repay my debt.”

“I think that after last night, you have done enough,” Eve murmured. Arman looked as though he was trying very hard not to listen too closely. Both of his hands were folded at the small of his back. The position looked terribly uncomfortable.

“If anything,” Samir breathed, “It solidified just how much I owe you.”

“What can I do to get rid of you?”

A laugh. Short and unbothered. As though he were somehow expecting this response.

“I must have interrupted your plans. Work even. Let me make it up to you.”

Eve snickered. Her body had melted back into his chest, despite her mild efforts to do otherwise. He was so broad - warm - just as stable as she’d remembered him being last night. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

“I own a private security service,” Samir drawled.

“No,” Eve said shortly, cutting him off before he said anything more. She could definitely use the help. But not with the usual tasks that came her way.

“If your work was safe, you wouldn’t own a gun,” Samir countered.

“Not that it’s helped me much now,” Eve muttered. She couldn’t see the other man, but she could practically feel him grin as she half-proved his point. “And I’ve been fine this far.”

“That was before you got involved with him,” Arman muttered from the floor, and Samir’s hands on her grew tighter. Eve stiffened. What exactly did that mean?

“You’re saying I’ll be targeted, because I helped Samir out?”

“Yes.”

“Arman,” Samir hissed. Eve held a hand out, cutting any other protests short.

“That’s fine. I can handle myself.”

“And I would feel much better, if you weren’t entirely by yourself.”

“Frankly, it’s none of your business.”

Samir mopped a hand over his face. “I know.”

“Hey,” Arman interjected, softly.

“Then why would you possibly care? I just can’t wrap my head around it?”

“Is it so wrong for one person to care for a fellow human?”

Eve bit her lip. “No. But this is an awful hassle for you to be going through. I just can’t believe that you would be doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Hello?” Arman chimed in again. They both ignored him.

“I’m not,” Samir said, curtly. His eyelashes were so long. The entire conversation his expression had hardly shifted from that soft, peerless calm. Now it colored with something closer to anxiety. He was offering her a choice, she realized. That despite the bravado, if she rejected his proposal, he would disappear from her life.

“Then why?” Eve demanded, voice altogether too soft. The sooner she understood, the better. The easier it would be for her in the long run, to tear herself away from such peace.

Arman smacked Samir’s thigh, firmly enough that the man finally paid attention to him. But the redhead was looking somewhere in the distance, posture strangely panicked.

“Samir. What in the world could that possibly be?”

Eve turned. Her blood ran cold.

She should have known better than to hope for a break for once.