Page 32 of Cinder's Trial
“You’re covered in soap. Rinse,” he snapped.
“I will once you leave.”
“Ain’t happening, princess. Or are you hoping for an alligator next time?”
I glanced at the empty tub. Would the Grimm Effect be so savage? I didn’t know what to think anymore. “Don’t peek.” A dumb thing to say given A) he’d already seen my naked bits, B) I kind of wanted him to look and admire, C) he obviously wasn’t that interested, given he’d not met my gaze since entering.
I placed the damp towel on the bar, and the curtain rustled as I went back into the shower. Clear plastic on the inside, a filmy white fabric on the outside. He technically couldn’t see much even if he did look, which he didn’t. I’d have known since I kept turning my head to see.
The shower remained hot, but I shivered a bit inside. What was happening to me? Another nursery rhyme at play? I knew of one from when I was young, One, Two, Three, Four, Five. The short sing-along poem spoke of catching a fish and letting it go because it bit. Just like what happened to me.
“You okay in there, princess?”
“Yup. Done. Turn around while I grab a towel.”
His broad back faced me as I slid back the curtain. My damp towel didn’t help my chill; however, I wasn’t rude enough to grab the other, as he would need it when he bathed. Levi also had some spider gore to deal with. Not as much as me, which made no sense since he’d been the one slicing.
A peep at the sink showed the giant fish sulking at the bottom, and I’d swear it glared at me as its mouth opened and closed. At least it didn’t have razor-sharp teeth.
My bag of clothes sat by the vanity, on the other side of Levi. “Could you step out while I dress?”
“Leave the door open.”
So much for having any privacy. At the same time, I appreciated the fact he wanted to protect me. At the same time, that appreciation wouldn’t last if he insisted on standing over me while I peed.
I dressed quickly in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. My hair I wrapped in the towel to sop up most of the moisture. I kept my feet bare and emerged into the room to find Levi pacing, his posture tense.
“Sorry I freaked out about the fish.”
He whirled and growled, “Don’t you dare apologize. Something weird is going on, and that gives you the right to be upset.”
“Weirder than me talking to mice?” I tried to make light of the situation before immediately frowning. “That’s odd.”
“What is?”
To be sure, I returned to the bathroom and stared at the fish.
It glared back.
“I don’t think it’s sushi material,” he drawled at my back.
“I wanted to check something.”
“Dare I ask what?”
I turned to see him standing close, close enough I had to crane to see his face. “It doesn’t speak.”
“It’s a fish. Kind of normal.”
I shook my head. “Most animals have the ability to communicate, just not in a language most understand. It’s how I can speak with my mice and Izzy and all my other friends. But this fish…” I waved my hand. “It’s blank.”
Judging by his expression, I had his interest. “What do you mean by blank?”
“It’s not exuding any thoughts or emotions. As if it doesn’t have a mind. Or if it does, not one that projects.”
“Could be it’s not a thinker.”
“Everyone has thoughts. Everyone feels something, whether it be joy, annoyance, sadness, anger. My mice right now are excited about the new room. Izzy is disgruntled by the carpet, which he claims smells. But this fish has nothing.”