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to go in and wake him, see if he is ok. Ask what day it is. Where’s my phone? What has he been doing? So many questions. But I decide he probably needs his sleep. No doubt he has been worried about me.

My achy joints descend towards the open living area, the wood fire is on and a luminous glow creates a soothing atmosphere.

The large windows are uncovered, the blinds wide open and I see Leo, standing facing the garden view.

Do they sleep? I have never even asked that question. I have so many questions about the Immortalies, this entire world. I know they eat food. We have shared enough meals for me to make the conclusion.

As if sensing me, he turns and his eyes land straight on me. Piercing through the glass.

He is an enigma of a man; he could easily have a following of loyal devout members that he could make do anything. Lincoln Jones would not hold a candle to him, and I thought he was imposing when I entered his cult. He had his followers lining up, following the most inhuman teachings with no pushback. Well, not from me anyway.

My normal reaction of nervous energy as I make my way towards Leo has diminished. I dare say it’s only because my entire body aches and my whole being is just tired.

“Hey,” I say, opening the sliding door walking out to the balcony.

He takes a moment to answer, his eyes assessing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

I shrug.

“Come sit, your food will be here soon.” He walks towards the outdoor table and pulls a chair out for me.

“Thanks.” I sit. He walks to the opposite side and takes his seat. Both of us quiet.

The door opens again and a server from the kitchen pushes a trolley with two silver covered plates.

“Thank you, Charlie,” Leo says. Charlie places two bowls in front of us. He opens mine first.

Soup.

“No problem. Are you sure you didn’t want bread rolls to go with it? We’ve just made a batch for the breakfast buffet?” he asks with a smile.

It smells delicious and I can’t wait to devour it, and bread would be great. Actually, I was expecting more of a spread. Wow, how I have adapted to the life of luxury.

I decide to keep my mouth shut. Like a mirage, but without the visions, I smell the carb deliciousness waft through the air, hot tasty fresh bread.

“No thank you, just the soup.” Leo answers for the both of us.

My stomach grumbles in protest.

“Hungry?” He smiles.

I nod. “Starving.”

“I can bring the bread rolls up, I will be right back.”

My eyes go big in excitement. Charlie is my new best friend.

“No,” Leo declines again. This time leaving no room for discussion.

Both Charlie and I deflate, and I have no energy to argue with him. Charlie must have taken that as a ‘get the hell out of here’, because he was a human roadrunner. A cloud of smoke is all that remains of my once food saviour.

“You have not eaten a meal in three days,” Leo says.

My head snaps to him.

“Three days?” I meant to have said, but no sound other than a deep rasp comes out. I clear my throat and try again. “Three days?” This time it’s audible. I sip the glass of water that has been set for me.

He nods, “You have been on fluids, so I would go slow with what your stomach can handle. You could be sick if you eat-”

“Yeah, too much, I know.” I nod. I know by firsthand experience. Thanks Mum, again. At least she has prepared me for this moment.

“This has happened before?”

“If you mean me being flown through the air because a group of man tigers accidentally set off a bomb, that took me out for apparently three days, causing me to be living off IV fluids,” I shake my head, “the answer is no, that’s a first.”

I scoop my first sweet mouthful as I continue, “My body rejecting food because I hadn’t eaten for a few days? Yes. When I was a kid, a couple of times. The woman who birthed me was a selfish bitch.”

The liquid gold finally hits my lips and I close my eyes, savouring it. It makes its way down and my stomach grumbles for more.

When I open my eyes, Leo has not moved an inch.

It’s quiet again.

His chair scrapes loudly in the silence, and he stands abruptly. Stalking directly to the drinks table and lifting a bottle of amber liquor. My guess, something stupid expensive. He pours himself a generous serving. Then turns and takes three steps, shakes his head, turns back, grabs the bottle and brings it back with him.

Ok, I guess he needs a drink.

I, on the other hand, have not stopped eating the soup as I watch.

“Thirsty?” I ask as he finally sits back down.

My bowl is nearly half empty, and already I’m feeling a bit queasy. A good time to take a second to stop eating like I haven’t seen food in, well, three days.

“You,” he starts, “I,” he starts again. He lifts the glass to his lips and finishes his drink. “Let’s start at the man tigers.”

“Yes,” I sigh. “I mean, I think that’s what I saw. I remember I locked two of them in our office, but there was a third and he had a gun pointed at me.”

“You locked them in the office? Why would you not run with Topher? How can I keep you safe if you refuse to help me?” His shoulders slump and regret flushes across his face. I’m not sure why, but I would assume it must be because the way I’m looking at him.

“You’re right,” I say, catching him off guard. “Not in my wildest dreams would I have thought there would be a bomb, let alone a man that magically turned into a tiger. But I know that now.” I swallow. Now for the truth. “I am completely incapable of taking care of myself right now.” The

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