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“Thank you,” I said, emotion slipping into my words.
“Don’t mention it. Also, if you ever want to take a class—personal, just you and me—just let me know.”
“Martial arts?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s very empowering,” she said. “But we might have to wait until there’s a little more meat on your bones first. No worries on that front, though. I’m sure Detroit is up to the task,” she said, walking back toward the door. As she passed Vernon, she reached out, and he let her rub his head. “That’s refreshing,” she declared before continuing to the door. “Nice to meet you, Vienna. Glad to have another girl around.”
And with that, she was gone.
Almost like she knew I couldn’t handle a long interaction yet.
Alone, I placed the knife under my pillow, then went to the massive basket from a man I’d never even met.
Inside, I found all the comfort items. Fluffy socks, another super soft blanket in purple that I immediately spread over my others on the bed, a lavender-colored robe, a candle in a light vanilla scent, a few face masks, a luffa in the same shade of purple as the robe, socks, and blanket, and a few soft hair bands.
I’d barely been able to check out all of the items before there was another soft knock at the door. Soft enough for me to know it was a woman even before I called out to her.
“Hey, Vienna,” the woman said, her voice soft as she moved a step inside the door, but didn’t come closer. “I’m Morgaine.”
She looked, well, exactly how I thought she would. Something about her name conjured up memories of a feminist retelling of a King Arthur book with all these quietly badass women with ethereal, witchy looks.
That was what Morgaine looked like to me. Tall, willowy, with long, deep, shiny red hair she had around her shoulders, framing her gorgeous face with her light blue eyes.
“The chicken-tender,” I said, getting a surprised little burst of laughter from her.
“That’s me,” she agreed. “Can I come closer?” she asked, something in her hesitance, in her tone, making me think that she not only knew, but understood, had maybe even been in a similar situation as I had.
“Sure,” I said.
“I see Colter dropped by your door,” she said, eyeing the basket. “He somehow always knows exactly what you need, even when you aren’t aware of needing it. His gift makes mine look a little silly, but,” she said, holding up a mug I’d missed dangling from her hand. “Raff said you like coffee and books. So I made you this,” she said, holding it out to me, carefully making a space for me to grab it without having to touch her.
It was gorgeous in the way that only handmade pottery could be. Slightly imperfect in a charming way. She’d painted the whole thing to seem to have a woodgrain to it, then had painstakingly painted a row of books around it.
“Everyone here has their own mug that I’ve made them. It’s a thing. So now you do too.”
“That’s… this is beautiful,” I said, surprised to find my eyes getting teary. “Thank you so much.”
“Are your ears pierced?” she asked, making me startle.
“Ah, yeah,” I told her, watching as she went into her pocket to fish out a set of dancing earrings. They were, well, itty bitty vials with some sort of liquid in them.
“They’re plastic, so you don’t have to worry about breaking them accidentally,” she told me. “The liquid inside, well, let’s just say that, should you ever need it, each vial could kill a fucking elephant. So a man would be no issue,” she added, dropping them into my mug, making my brows raise. “Just a little drop in the mouth, nose, eyes, anywhere, really. And, poof, all your problems are gone. Anyway, I hear one of my children screaming. It was nice to meet you,” she said, making her way to the door without another word.
Huh.
Okay then.
I set the mug down, reaching for the earrings, feeling them in my hands, and deciding that they, along with the knife, would definitely make me feel safer the first time I went out to explore Shady Valley.
I carefully tucked them into the nightstand, though, not wanting Vernon to get to them.
By the time I finished with that, there was another knock at the door, this one a little harder, making me jump.
“Yeah?”
“Looks like most of the welcome party has already been here,” the pretty blonde said as she moved inside in her cargo pants and black tank top. Her features were pretty in a very feminine way, but she carried herself a little more ruggedly.
If I had to put money on it, I would bet this was Murphy.
