Blood Will Tell Read Online Free Page A

eyes seemed a little less black, and that frightening grayish tint had disappeared from his face. And now she could actually see his chest rising and falling as he breathed, sending the healing oxygen through his body.
    “You’re too mean to die, aren’t you?” she asked, but softened the words by reaching up to touch the dark wavy hair at his temple, now matted with blood. Once he had recovered enough, he was definitely going to need a good cleaning-up.
    Miala wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the smallest quirk at the corner of his mouth. Then again, it could have just been a trick of the lighting.
    Speaking of cleaning up , she thought, looking down at herself as if for the first time. The right side of her tunic was splattered with blood, and she was streaked with grime everywhere. Thorn looked as if he were holding on, and now she could think of nothing else but an extended spell in a shower. And clean clothes. There had to be something fit for use somewhere in the compound.
    After rousing the mech and instructing it to keep a close watch on Thorn, Miala went down the hall and up to the third story, where she knew the slave girls’ dormitory was located. That is, everyone referred to them as “bond servants” to pay lip service to Gaian laws, but “slave” was a lot closer to the mark, and as long as the whole sordid business was kept more or less quiet, no one interfered too much. Miala had always felt sorry for the girls and wished she could do something to help them, but they were far beyond help now. However, the rooms they once occupied were probably her best chance at finding the toiletries she needed, along with a change of clothes.
    Sure enough, the bath chamber was stocked with all sorts of little luxuries; apparently Mast liked his slave girls sweet-smelling and moisturized before he loaned them out as “favors” to the scumbags who came to visit from time to time. Miala stood in the shower for at least a half-hour, reveling in the warm water that cascaded through her filthy hair and washed the grime from her body. In her own meager house the shower had a five-minute timer, to save water, but obviously Mast did not care to participate in Iradia’s mandatory water rationing. She had to wash her hair three times before she felt it was clean enough, and it was utter bliss to finally cleanse her face of the dirt and false blemishes she had adopted as part of her disguise.
    After that she dried off and then wrapped the towel around herself, going in search of something to wear. Although Miala didn’t doubt Eryk Thorn would enjoy waking up to see her in one of the slave girls’ scantier ensembles, she had something a little more substantial in mind. She had seen several of the girls when they arrived at the compound, and they had worn ordinary enough clothing. It had to be around here someplace.
    As it was, shoved into the farthest corner of the wardrobe that all of the girls had apparently shared. Miala thought she even recognized the fitted tunic and loose pants the Eridani girl Genna had first worn when she came to Mast’s compound. That was good, because Genna was closer to Miala’s size than any of the other slave girls, and the outfit fit very well.
    It felt odd, to be wearing a dead girl’s clothing, but Genna certainly didn’t need it anymore, and Miala did. Besides, the feel of something besides rough synthetics against her skin was pure heaven. The low-necked dark tunic and pants were obviously made of the local moon-moth silk, sleek and elegantly draped. And the clothing wasn’t any of the endless variations on off-white, ivory, and beige that were ubiquitous on Iradia as a defense against the heat and the blistering sun. Miala thought she could go her entire life without wearing a single one of those non-colors again.
    But she had spent enough time here. She ran a comb one last time through her damp tresses, then slid on a pair of sandals she had found on the floor of the wardrobe.