Auction

"Let them take care of her," Silver Eyes says. "We have much to discuss, and she needs to be cared for."

I like him. He is not threatened by me. None of them are, probably, but some seem to take my threats more personally than others. I don't know whether it is better to be taken seriously and make a warrior angry, or be laughed at.

It doesn't matter. Mattias and Elias are taking me away from the warriors. They lead me through the sheriff's rooms to a bathing chamber that must have once belonged to the sheriff, and they run a bath without hardly a word to me, cleaning themselves off with a little soap and water first to stop the water from being contaminated with the blood of their foes.

In the end, they strip down to the waist, tying the arms of their robes around their hips, exposing the muscular plane of abdomen and torso. I try not to look, but I can't help it. Whatever implant they have does not affect the masculinity of their bodies. They are sculpted, planes of muscle elegantly flowing from one into the other, abdominals rippling like the washboard I used to use in the river, their chests so broad and so powerful, utterly hairless and smooth.

It's not lust I feel right now. I am too tired, too disturbed for that. Right now, it's awe and appreciation at just how handsome they are. Two perfect works of art drawing a bath for me, the murderess.

That is what I am now. I have taken life. I will never be able to take that back. It will stain whichever part of my soul used to be clear. But I will not regret it, and I will never apologize for it.

"Get in," Mattias says when the bath is ready.

I am surprised by their lack of comment as to the events of the day.

"Are you angry at me?"

Mattias and Elias exchange looks.

"Angry? No," Mattias says. "Worried, yes."

"Why? I thought you, of all people, would be happy at what I did today. I got vengeance. For me, and for all of us. You're free now!"

"We are no more free than we were, and nor are you," Mattias says. "Get in the bath before it goes cold."

I find myself pouting. What I did to the sheriff was shocking, even to myself. It was monumental. People have been wanting that asshole dead for more than a decade, and I did it. But nobody around me seems to be impressed, much less appreciative. A monster is dead. It has to be a good thing.

For once, I don't argue with them. I do want a bath. More than that, I want to be cared for. I want to feel... I don't know. What is it I want? Approval, forgiveness, praise?

I shed the red dress now crimson with drying blood and I step into the bath. Mattias and Elias kneel on either side and wash me, saying calm little words and soothing phrases.

"Good girl, lie back..."

"Close your eyes, I don't want to get water in them..."

Totally pedestrian phrases uttered in low masculine tones settle my nerves. The warm water washes away the blood, and slowly helps the aches and tightness in my muscles fade away too. I lie back, naked and let Mattias and Elias rub me down, their big hands soothing my stress.

What have I done? What have I become? And what will become of me? There are so many questions, each larger than the last, but for the moment, I don't need to answer any of them.