Page 31 of Wicked Curses
At least Radagast didn’t have a problem with her, which meant the other warlocks probably didn’t either. The witches’ hatred for vamps was sometimes mirrored by warlocks but not always.
The vamps probably weren’t thrilled about her birth, but they wouldn’t bother her either. It was just the witches and maybe some warlocks, so only a dozen or so immortals would prefer to see her dead.
How fun.
Pushing away from the door, Sahira crossed the room and opened the curtains covering her window and the thick metal shutters. Belda had told her to close the shutters whenever she wasn’t in the room.
She’d also suggested sleeping with them closed, but Sahira craved fresh air and had left them open last night. The bells would wake her if the scarogs were coming.
Opening the shutters, she locked them into place before resting her elbows on the windowsill and gazing at the street below. The dwindling sun illuminated the dozens of homes she could see from her angle and the passersby below.
Purples, reds, and oranges so bright she’d never seen the likes of them before streaked the sky. It was strange that this cursed land held so much beauty, but even if it was rather monotone, it was spectacular.
She watched the sunset until it vanished and the colors bled from the sky. The music and voices from below grew louder with the onset of night.
Stepping away from the window, Sahira walked over and plopped onto the full-size mattress. It was a small room that lacked the opulence of Orin’s, but it was cozy.
She suspected Orin had done some decorating in his, and it had looked identical to hers before he turned it into a sex den. Belda had told her to make herself at home and that there were other furnishings in the barn behind the pub, but she wouldn’t bother to change anything.
Even if she never left this realm, she’d never fully accept her fate by turning this room or a house into her own. Besides, the room was perfectly fine.
The mattress was firm but not too hard, and a quilt of numerous colors covered the bed. She traced the stitches between the soft fabric as she ran her fingers over the quilt.
She hadn’t slept much last night, but burrowed beneath the blanket, she’d been warm and cozy. The aromas of the room’s wooden walls and grass-scented candles made it more inviting.
The linens were all clean, and the scent of the outdoors lingered on them from when someone hung them to dry. There was no electricity in this realm, and whatever powered the library and pub didn’t stretch to the rooms up here, but she’d discovered plenty of candles in the nightstand drawer.
The closet across the way was full of different clothes in various styles and sizes. She didn’t like wearing a dead immortal’s clothes, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she had no other options. She’d arrived here with only the clothes on her back; they wouldn’t last long if she wore and washed them daily.
The room didn’t have a bathroom, but if she went out to the hallway, it was located directly to the right of her room, so she didn’t have to go far. To the left of her room was Orin’s.
He was a little too close for her liking, but at least a wall separated them, and her silencing spell had worked well to block out the noise last night, so hopefully, she wouldn’t have to hear him and numerous partners. She cringed at the possibility.
No pictures decorated the walls, but a few pretty black stones sat atop her bureau. One was heart shaped, the other resembled a horse, and the third looked like a rose in full bloom.
She suspected Belda, or whoever decorated this room, had left them there. If they belonged to the previous resident, they would have taken the stones with them when they moved into their home.
Or maybe they were killed during The Reaping and never allowed to move out. That possibility made them a little less pretty, but she wouldn’t remove them.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Sahira rose from the bed,stripped off her clothes, and opened the bureau. Tucked inside was the same white nightgown she’d worn the night before.
Belda had told her there was a river at the edge of town where the others washed their clothes. The rocks in the water made it a better washing place than the lake.
A laundry basket was tucked neatly into the back of her closet, but since she wasn’t rushing to scrub things on rocks, she’d wear the nightgown for at least a few more nights. She’d go through all the clothes that fit her before trudging her ass to the river.
Belda had also informed her that once the clothes became too tattered to wear, the seamstress and tailor took them and remade them into something new. They’d also patch any holes for her.
Sahira tugged on the nightgown that settled around her toes and brushed the ground when she walked. Lifting the wooden brush, with its hairy bristles, from the top of her bureau, she ran it through her hair as she tried not to think about who had used it before her.
There was also a toothbrush, some eucalyptus powder, and a bar of soap in the top drawer of her bureau. She should have brushed her teeth before retreating to her room, but it hadn’t occurred to her, and now she couldn’t bring herself to go back out there.
Unlike the hairbrush, the toothbrush and powder were never used before, as one of Belda’s pack members gave them to her last night. The man had informed her some workers made the toothbrushes kept in the mercantile down the street.
Since no one used currency here, the only way to earn a new brush was to work, and those who did work received a new one every three months. The lycan had explained this was monitored, as was the powder, so she shouldn’t waste it.
He’d also informed her there were potions for birth control there and suggested she get some. Sahira might have taken offense to this if it wasn’t for the fact that she was sure there was birth control for the men, too, and they were all on it. No one wanted a baby in this realm.
