Ethan let out a long, low sigh as he relaxed into the tub, muscles untensing and nerves easing – it had been a long time since Ethan had felt this at ease. Bela massaged his scalp, fingers gliding through his hair and frothing the freshly applied shampoo. The warm steam in the air did nothing to prevent him from shivering. Goosebumps rippled across his skin.
Rather than acknowledge the way Bela made his body react, he asked, "You gonna tell me about that little fieldtrip of yours?"
"Hmm," Bela hummed. "Where do I even begin?"
"From the start?"
"Ah, yes," Bela rolled her eyes, "Why didn't I think of that?"
"I mean, why'd you set out to begin with?" Ethan asked. "It's freezing out there."
Bela's lithe fingers continued their bubbly dance in his hair.
"I…" Bela smacked her lips and sounded only the slightest bit displeased with herself. "I got drunk with the Duke last night."
Ethan sputtered out an incredulous laugh. If it weren't for the shampoo trickling down his face, he would have turned to look at her in question. "Did I hear that right?"
"Yes, and the headache that followed was awful. But," Bela inhaled audibly, "With how yesterday unfolded, I needed the drink."
Ethan winced.
It was another matter to get into, but Ethan knew he wasn't the only one who'd had a rough day yesterday. Ethan survived by the skin of his teeth fighting the Moroaice and Cassandra, only to be subjected to Daniela and her killer mood swings. From the breakneck pace of fighting, Ethan had gone on to prancing through Daniela's emotional minefield.
Bela had to deal with the aftermath of the fight, the broken shelf of wine, and all the fallout that came with it. The magic Bela had worked to displace the blame was a line of inquiry on the tip of his tongue – but Ethan refrained. She had already gotten the ball rolling on her journey outside the castle. He may as well wait and see it through.
"I will not lie to you, Ethan – I was rather angry last night." Bela's fingers exerted a smidge more pressure on his scalp for just a moment. "If our fight had not been bad enough, that business with the wine was just the cherry on top."
Ethan opened his mouth to apologize, but relented. He was sorry Bela had to deal with all the blowback, had to clean up his mess, and had to defuse her mother's temper – but was he really sorry for sticking it to the Dimitrescu family and all the atrocities the castle had seen?
No. He was not sorry in the slightest for his sense of humanity's rebellious cry.
Ethan instead asked, "You told the Duke about all that?"
"Well – who else was there to tell?" Bela huffed, "Cassandra and my mother were off the table for obvious reasons. I was forbidden from seeing you, so I could not go to Daniela either." Bela scooped up some water in her hands, allowing it to drip into Ethan's hair. "The maids would sooner jump out a window than listen to someone like me lament about my problems."
When she put it that way, Ethan could understand. As odd and mysterious as the Duke was, he was also helpful and insightful. He didn't sound like the worst drinking buddy by any stretch. Ethan simply nodded his understanding, and Bela went on.
"After sorting out that whole mess in the cellar, I was still so upset over where we last left things," The remnants of frustration leaked into Bela's voice, "After all those preparations I made, only for us to," She scoffed, "Squabble."
The guilt panged in Ethan's chest. He splashed water onto his face to ensure no stray shampoo would blind him when he opened his eyes. He reached back – towards Bela's hands perched atop his head. Ethan gently took hold of her hand as he craned his head to look back at her. "I'm really sorry about that, Bela."
Bela squeezed his hand. Her brows pitched together in the slightest as she smiled. "I know. It's okay."
"If it makes you feel any better," Ethan shrugged a shoulder, "Those were the best damn pancakes I've had in years. That was really thoughtful of you."
A smile formed on Bela's tired face. "Well, I am happy you enjoyed your breakfast for dinner."
Her hands returned to Ethan's hair, rinsing out the lather of shampoo. "The Duke helped me calm down and… work through my thoughts, I suppose." Another handful of water trickled into his hair. "I wanted to help you."
Ethan's small smile went unseen as he muttered, "This isn't enough helping?"
The gorgeous lady who held the key to his cell (which he had not occupied in over a day now) was shampooing his hair – that was above and beyond what he could reasonably expect from Bela. Hell, everything Bela had fed him, and every ounce of kindness she afforded him, was already far more than he could have asked for.
Of course, there was the matter of letting him see Rose, but –
"I wanted to help you in a way that actually mattered. With Rose, with Redfield," Bela took a breath, "and even with Miranda."
Oh.
Ethan wouldn't say no to help of that caliber. Yet it was staggering to hear Bela so succinctly put it into words. Aside from humane treatment in captivity, this – help of this level – was what truly mattered in the end.
'Help' was putting it very lightly. It dawned on Ethan that the stand Bela was taking could easily be seen by the rest of her family as betrayal.
Daniela was rather fond of Ethan now, but if the lines were drawn and push came to shove, Ethan wouldn't blame Daniela for siding with her family. She'd only known him for the better part of a day and a half, after all.
Cassandra and Lady Dimitrescu would be livid beyond measure. Up until this point, all of Bela's positive treatment of Ethan in captivity could be viewed as an ambiguous grey area. Her conscious decision to help him with Rose, Chris, and Miranda – and more importantly, her actions beyond the castle walls – would only cement Bela's guilt – her betrayal – in the rest of her family's eyes.
"That's why you left the castle?" Ethan did his best to gulp down the shock. The four angry gashes on Bela's arm soon came to mind – the price she paid for her treason. A graver fate awaited her if the extent of her actions came to light. "To help me?"
"I am sorry to report that I did not decapitate Miranda and bring her severed head to you."
Ethan snorted at Bela's deadpan delivery. Wiping the dripping water from his face, he shifted to glance back at her. More seriously, he said, "I don't want you getting hurt out there on my account, tapeworm. I appreciate it, but please – I don't…"
'I don't want to lose you,' was on the tip of his tongue, but the words died there before they could tumble out.
"Just don't."
"I will help you if I damn please, Ethan." Bela's face was set into a look of certainty – almost defiance. Fierce Bela stirred something within Ethan – something he was not at all prepared to question or unpack. Bela continued, "Besides, I was in good hands, believe it or not… most of the time, at least."
There was no talking Bela out of this new mindset of hers. This vigor to assist, even if it hurt her. Yet even if he could, Ethan wasn't sure he would, as this was all to his and Rose's benefit anyway – whatever it was Bela had accomplished. He only hoped the risks she took truly were as mitigated as could be.
"Okay, I'll bite," Ethan raised a hand from the water to gesture, drawing a small splash in the process, "What were you doing out there to help me?"
"I am handy with a blade, but slitting Redfield and Miranda's throats is quite outside the realm of reality." Bela's factual delivery brought Ethan the tiniest sense of relief. He dreaded to envision how Bela's encounter with either of them would end. Chris' specialty in killing bioweapons needed no further explanation. Ethan was in the dark as to just who Miranda was, and what she was capable of. All he knew was that she meant business if she commanded an army of bioweapons and got the rest of the Lords to bow to her. Someone like that does not just get taken off the playing field without serious preparation.
"So," Bela ran her fingers through Ethan's hair, ensuring it was largely free of shampoo, "I settled for a more realistic goal: information gathering. The Duke is likely bound by agreement with my mother to keep his silence. Fortunately for us, such agreement does not prevent him from aiding me leave the castle."
"You took that big-ass carriage of his?" Ethan asked. At Bela's hum of assent, he added, "Where to?"
"I paid a visit to Karl Heisenberg's factory."
It took Ethan a moment to connect the name to the face. It came rushing back at him – the dimly lit gothic cathedral, Miranda front and center, and her entourage: the hunched freak, the creepy doll, the towering noblewoman, and the homeless-looking guy who smelled like dollar store beer. Ethan cringed. "The asshole with the hammer? Magneto guy?"
Bela's momentary confusion was palpable. "He… has a hammer, yes."
"The fuck did you see him for?" Ethan shifted from where he sat in the tub to get a better look at Bela. "That asshole sent a bunch of lycans after me and trapped me in a meatgrinder."
"What?" Bela's brows shot up. "He did what?"
"Yeah," Ethan scoffed, "I was nearly turned into ground meat fit for your next sarmale roll. I barely made it out of there in one piece."
Bela leaned back on the stool for a moment, jaw agape. "When did that happen?"
With a shrug, Ethan gestured vaguely around them. "Right before I first showed up in this castle. Pretty sure my legs were still shaking from the adrenaline when you stuck me with that sickle – thanks for that, by the way."
Remorse clouded Bela's eyes; she cupped his face in her hand as she said, "I'm so sorry about that, puppy." She paused to chew on her bottom lip. "I was… it was an awful day."
Ethan's own hand had a mind of its own, choosing to settle atop Bela's. His thumb brushed her damp skin as he asked, "Why's that?"
Bela's gaze drifted down, fixing on a nondescript point on his shoulder. "I…" Her parted lips carried a tremble. "It was…"
Her words trailed off into the abyss.
The lost, glazed over look in her eyes was blank enough to make a blind person appear as though they had 20-20 vision. Bela's thousand-yard stare was all too reminiscent of how Ethan and Mia looked during the immediate aftermath of the Baker Incident.
"Hey," Ethan whispered, "If it's hard for you, you don't have to tell me about it."
Bela blinked, lashes flickering; it did nothing to clear the haze from her head. She stared forward, unseeing as she muttered, "You met me at a terribly low point in my life, Ethan." A lapse into silence, as she struggled to parse the words. "I was on the brink of giving up on who I once was."
On the day Ethan met Bela, she wore a deranged smile that matched the dried blood splattered around her mouth. The dark crimson stained her dress and contributed to her terrifying feral presence.
And today, Bela sat by the head of the bathtub, downcast eyes lost, and her hand holding his. Any blood she spilled today had been spilled to protect herself and come home in one piece after committing treason against her family.
Whatever precipice Bela had found herself on that day they met, she had since backed away from it to embrace her past life.
"I guess I'm lucky you didn't give up." Ethan offered a reassuring smile. "Dunno if I would've lasted this long here without you."
In a similar vein, Ethan was quite sure Bela's entire household would not have lasted long without her kindness. If not for Bela's spark of humanity tempering Ethan's restless, vengeful hands, things would have gone much differently. Ethan would have had no reason to avoid resorting to incredible levels of unparalleled violence to secure his freedom.
Not that Ethan had to remind Bela of that. So he settled instead on holding onto Bela's hand just a little bit tighter.
Bela's warm smile broke Ethan from his thoughts, and her eyes gained a degree of clarity as they traveled up to his face. "I think your family photo may have had a hand in that."
Ethan's heart performed the smallest of twirls. "Yeah? How so?"
"I suppose…" Bela's lips parted for a moment as she searched for the words. "It made you human in my eyes." Her tongue dashed across her lips for a beat. "…Even if I did not realize it at the time, it reminded me of what being a regular person was like."
Ethan squeezed Bela's hand once more, prompting her to give his cheek a final brush of the thumb before pulling back. Following her lead, Ethan faced straight ahead once more, allowing her to continue rinsing the last bits of shampoo from his hair. Bela patted him on the head and added with an air of nonchalance, "I'm glad I didn't bleed you dry like a stuck pig."
It startled a laugh out of Ethan, and he could hear Bela's own soft chuckling behind him. That appeared to have been her intent – to not get too serious or too real at the moment. While his curiosity over that low point in her life had been stoked, Ethan was in no rush to hear the nitty gritty. Bela would share what she wished when she felt comfortable doing so.
"Yeah, that makes two of us."
"Anyway," Bela shook her head, "Karl conveniently left out the part where he tried to turn you into ground meat."
Ethan grunted, "Probably left out the part where he stabbed me in the chest too. That rebar was rusty as hell. It's a good thing I'm up to date on my tetanus shots."
"Huh." Bela's massaging hands paused for a second, and a sigh followed. "Considering how much Karl admired your handiwork in the village, I am surprised he put you through that much."
"Admired?" Ethan couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.
"Oh yes," Bela chuckled, "He spoke of you like an action star. Perhaps that meatgrinder trap was Karl's way of seeing you surpass more challenges."
The less Ethan thought of the deafening grind of whirling blades, the better. With a shake of his head, Ethan asked, "What did you see that meth cook for?"
It gave Bela pause, and her only acknowledgement of the quip was a quiet huff under her breath. "The Duke said that Karl had the information I was looking for." Bela splashed some more water into Ethan's hair. "The information that we are looking for."
"Let me guess: the Duke was right?"
"More than right." Bela reached over to the stone shelving, retrieving a bath sponge. A vaguely citrusy scent filled the steamy air as she applied a generous dollop of soap to the sponge. "Karl was rather evasive at first, and accused me of spying on him on my mother's behalf."
Ethan had not spent more than five minutes with Karl Heisenberg – yet Ethan could picture it clear as day, thanks to the man in question's homeless conspiracy theorist vibe.
"Given all that Karl had to hide, it made perfect sense in the end." Bela pressed the sponge against Ethan's shoulder and drew broad strokes all the way down to his arm.
It was pointless trying to contain the gentle shivers Bela made him produce.
Clearing his throat, Ethan asked, "What did he have to hide?"
"An army," Came Bela's nonchalant reply. "A half-corpse, half-machine army."
Ethan craned his head over his shoulder. Bela's perfectly neutral expression hinted that she was serious. Ethan licked his lips and asked, "Why hide it? That guy works with Miranda, right?"
Taking a deep breath, Bela began, "That is what he would like the valley at large to think, yes." Her soft scrubbing of Ethan's arm resulted in a thick lather forming over his skin. "Truth is that he detests Miranda. That army is his means of rebellion when the time is right."
Ethan had felt the valley was already a warzone when he tore through the village, stumbling across the villagers' remains as he fought for his life. A civil war breaking out would make all of that look like child's play.
"Wow," Ethan muttered, for lack of better words.
Werewolves battling an undead army sounded like something out of a bad sci-fi-fantasy movie. Ethan only hoped he wouldn't be caught directly in their crossfire when things eventually came to a head – which (he knew better by now) was a pipe dream. Odds were that Ethan would be smack dab in the middle of the warzone when either Miranda or Karl fired the first metaphorical bullet.
It sounded like great background noise, though. The perfect cover to snatch Rose and escape the valley while Miranda was preoccupied. It was the smart play. Ethan wouldn't be surprised if Chris had a similar idea in mind, wherever he was.
"Karl agreed to give me information in exchange for some assistance." Bela began to scrub Ethan's other arm. "Do you remember Uriaș?"
Ethan leaned his head back on the tub wall to look at her. "Who?"
Bela swiped a soapy finger across the tip of Ethan's nose. "The gargantuan lycan you killed." At Ethan's frown – both from the soap on his nose and the confusion – she added, "The one as tall as a building?"
"Oh," His brows shot up in acknowledgement, and it was soon followed by a grimace. "That lycan."
Guttural howls, blood pulsing all the way up to his ears, his shoes beating the snow, his hands blackened with gunpowder, his severed fingers gushing blood – it all came to him at once.
Ethan straightened his head and gulped. His free hand cleaned the soap from his nose as he shook his head. That giant – Uriaș – had nearly squeezed him like a ripe orange. "I didn't know I killed him. I…" His fingers flexed in an anxious manner – as if searching for something to keep in hand to use as a weapon, "I was in such a hurry to get outta there, I didn't look back."
With a thick lather coating Ethan's arms and shoulders, Bela set the sponge to the side. She placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing him. "Regardless, you are out of there now. You are safe here with me."
Such an oddity it was to be in full agreement with Bela over that – over his safety in her presence. The word 'imprisonment' was losing its meaning day by day and he had himself to blame for that. It hardly even crossed his mind to make a break for it last night when Daniela was sound asleep, or earlier while Bela was in the shower.
Bela went back to the topic at hand, "Karl had Uriaș' body. He enlisted my help in resuscitating it."
Ethan spared Bela a glance and asked, "He wanted you to play Frankenstein with a giant corpse?"
"Believe it or not, I succeeded." Despite her words, Bela's own disbelief was palpable in her tone. She rinsed the soap from Ethan's arms and recounted, "It took the Cadou and some of Karl's fancy electronics, but we brought Uriaș back… to a degree, anyway."
"So now Magneto has an undead cyborg in his army?"
After an uncertain pause, Bela muttered, "That is correct."
Every time Ethan thought this valley couldn't get any crazier, it did. Lycans and ghouls weren't bad enough, oh no – now there were fucking Terminators marching to war. This whole goddamn valley was crazier than a circus of moldy clowns.
"Well, good job, I guess. What info did you get for all your hard work, Dr. Frankenstein?"
A soft huff – vaguely like a laugh – came as a warm breath against Ethan's hair. "Where shall I begin? Chris Redfield and his activities? How about Miranda and the location of her laboratory? Or perhaps you're more interested in dearest Rosemary?"
Ethan's heart paused for an exceedingly long second. When it unfroze, it leapt higher and farther than the now undead cyber-Uriaș ever had. Ethan's heart bounced from rib to rib, seeking attention and answers.
Before Ethan could turn and face Bela, she stood up and padded around the side of the tub – as if sensing that a longer talk awaited, one that required each other's full attention. She sat on the edge of the tub wall, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing out her dress. Her smile had a cocky shine to it.
"You've dug up that much?" Ethan's query got a nod in response. Still quite used to his rotten luck and stretches of misfortune, the question tumbled out on its own, "All that for me?"
Bela's eyes avoided his for just a moment as she nodded again.
It sent him reeling – his mind spinning as he tried to zoom out and really take it all in.
From jamming a bloody, razor-sharp sickle into his leg, and two weeks-worth of bonding and banter, Bela had gone and put her life on the line for him.
If Bela kept this up, he might just yank her into the bubbling water for a hug – and more if his unwise mind allowed the idea to snowball.
Bela wore a small, tired smile on her face. Quietly, she asked with a shrug, "Is that so hard to believe?"
Weeks ago, the answer would be a resounding yes. But after getting to know Bela? Stripping away all the pretense and titles of who they should be – who they were supposed to be (captor, captive, yadda yadda) – it was actually very easy to believe. Those titles were better off washed away and forgotten, much like the soap on Ethan's arms.
Pursing his lips for a beat, Ethan admitted, "I guess not…" He smiled then, and asked, "What do you got for me, detective? What's Rose got to do with all this?"
Bela hummed softly and began, "Given you and Mia's… condition, it stands to reason that your daughter shares a similar biological makeup. That makes her very interesting to Miranda."
A sense of alarm brewed within Ethan. "What – does she want to use Rose as some sort of lab rat?"
"It is hard to say, as Miranda is very secretive, even to Karl and the other Lords." Bela tucked a few wavy strands of hair behind her ear. "All we know for certain is that Miranda has a vested interest in the mold; by extension, she is interested in the offspring of two people imbued by the mold – you and Mia. Miranda likely intends to study Rose and her capabilities, such as how the mold manifests itself in her."
The silence that followed was heavy in contemplation. In the aftermath of the Baker Incident, the BSAA subjected Ethan and Mia to extensive testing and a myriad of medication to go along with it. Mia was understandably worse off after spending years with the Bakers; up to her untimely murder, she had been regularly taking her little blue maintenance pills. The medicine kept the dark, twisted side of her at bay – the one Eveline had molded out of her broken psyche. As long as Mia stayed on the maintenance meds, no angrier, moldier darker half awaited Ethan when Mia's temper flared.
Ethan had it easier – just months after his hellish night with the Bakers, he was off the meds and given the all-clear. That wasn't to say severing his foot and reattaching it with antiseptic was normal – common sense dictated it wasn't. But regardless of his Lego-limbs, the BSAA had made it clear – there were no more adverse side effects to worry about.
When news broke that Mia was pregnant, Ethan hated to admit it, but he was more afraid than excited. After everything Ethan and Mia had been through, what guarantee was there that their baby would be halfway normal?
Well – the guarantee came from the BSAA. During her time cozied up within Mia, and in the month following Rose's birth, the baby had gone through every test imaginable. The BSAA wasn't taking any chances, and they were right to. Yet when the first batch of results came in, mere weeks into the first trimester, the outlook appeared good, and Ethan had never been so relieved in his life.
Despite the altogether abnormal circumstances clouding Mia and Ethan, little Rosemary was healthy and normal. The fog of anxiety began to clear, and Rose – his darling, baby girl – could be appreciated truly for who she was to them: the bright light at the end of the hellish tunnel Ethan and Mia had been crashing through. Their hope. Their second chance. Their daughter. Ethan could almost believe in happy endings, up until Chris Redfield put five bullets in Mia's chest.
"Ethan?"
Bela's voice cut through like a foghorn in the mist. When his eyes blinked into focus, her golden irises were the lighthouse – always there to guide him home when the tide of his thoughts swept him away.
Ethan swallowed and cleared his throat, "Yeah?"
Disassociation could be a bitch like that sometimes.
"Are you okay?"
"Mhm," Ethan hummed and looked away, frowning at the bubbly water. "It just, uh," he licked his dry lips, "Never really occurred to me that's why Rose got kidnapped. Dunno why I didn't think of it earlier, considering there's no other logical explanation, really." Blood pumped in his veins as the apprehension mounted. "What else could make an infant girl worth this much trouble for Miranda to go through?"
Bela placed her hand over Ethan's – which had been gripping the edge of the tub in a tight, terse hold. Her fingers draped around the back of his hand, feeling like a hot blanket on a cold night. The pad of her thumb drew gentle strokes against his skin, easing his grip on the tub with each pass.
"Do Miranda's suspicions hold any water?" Bela asked, "Does the mold manifest in her?"
Ethan opened his mouth to respond in the negative, but the answer stalled on his tongue. Uncertainty clouded his answer, "Not that I know of."
The BSAA's tests had alluded to the mold's absence within Rose. She was supposed to be perfectly healthy and normal, free of her parents' afflictions. That was unless the BSAA had been lying to Ethan and Mia. At first, he would say the organization had no reason to do that.
But Chris had no reason to murder Mia and kidnap Rose either. So, the BSAA lying about Rose's lab results would not at all be the most farfetched thing imaginable.
A thoughtful hum, and Bela offered, "Regardless, I do not believe Rose is in any immediate danger, so long as Miranda believes she is worth the study."
Study was, comparatively, good. To study something (or someone), the subject typically had to be kept intact and unharmed, or else what was the point of attempting long term research? Dissection was the obvious curveball here, but Ethan felt nauseated just to consider it. If worse came to worst, and Miranda got her hands on Rose, as long as there would be no dissecting, she would be okay. If Rose could be okay long enough for Ethan to get out of here and rescue her, then that would have to suffice.
As long as Rose wasn't in immediate mortal peril, they could figure this out. They had the time to take this day by day.
And speaking of…
"If Miranda's so interested, why's Rose still here? I mean," Ethan shook his head, "don't get me wrong, I'm glad Rose is in the castle – but shouldn't Miranda have gotten her hands on my daughter by now?"
Bela's face split into a sardonic smile. "You have Chris Redfield to thank for that."
"Let me guess," Ethan frowned, "Is he keeping Miranda busy?"
"Redfield is waging an all-out war on Miranda. Whenever the lycans strike at a village, Redfield's men are there to intercept them and reduce the casualties. The dead are summarily burned at a pyre to prevent them from being raised as lycans for Miranda's army. I hate to say it, but…" Bela raised her brows, "They are foiling Miranda's plans at every step."
Ethan rubbed his face for a moment and scoffed, "Figures. Makes sense that Chris has it out for Miranda."
Hunting bioweapons was his shtick. Chris wouldn't be Chris if he didn't have a hard on at the thought of putting a bioweapon in the ground.
"Karl has their numbers pegged at about fifty," Bela said.
"What?" Ethan quirked a brow. "No way."
Hound Wolf Squad had no more than ten men last Ethan checked – and that wasn't counting the losses they'd taken after he woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere in that wrecked truck.
Ethan was aware of Chris' lack of BSAA backup. In the first years of his witness protection, Ethan had seen many faces come and go as his security detail was constantly changing. Different security officers were in the rotation, carrying all manner of weaponry and surveillance gear. However, once they arrived in Romania, only the men and women of Hound Wolf Squad remained to watch over the Winters family. Add Chris' secrecy over the matter, and it was easy for Ethan to deduce that something had gone down, and the full might of the BSAA couldn't be called in at a moment's notice. Ethan doubted there had been any major developments which would allow Chris to suddenly get forty more pairs of boots on the ground. If there had been a development, the entire valley would know it by now. Guerilla warfare wasn't the BSAA's style. If Chris had the BSAA's backing, helicopters would be swarming the valley. Entire platoons would be deployed in armored personnel carriers. Heavy air support would be turning lycans into red mist from thousands of feet up in the sky.
Bela shrugged in response. "In Karl's words, Redfield has 'fifty fucking cowboys in the mountains' to fight Miranda. Or at least, that is what it feels like, he says."
Ethan's gaze fell to the bubbly water, allowing the words to settle.
The men and women in Chris' squad were some of the toughest people Ethan had ever met. In the three years since the Baker Incident, any time that wasn't spent with Mia, or doing freelance work, he spent training with them. They leapt from planes together, they scaled icy mountains together, they traversed sweltering jungles together, and they busted down doors in live fire breaching drills – together.
After the hours of training and thousands of rounds they fired downrange, Ethan always felt like he was a part of Hound Wolf Squad (they even gave him his own canine-adjacent callsign, for Christ's sake). Even if Ethan wasn't sourced from the BSAA and trained for half a decade, he still felt like one of them.
That was what twisted the knife even further on the night of Chris' betrayal – those same men and women Ethan trained with across three years were the same ones to assist Chris in tossing Ethan's life right into the woodchipper.
Ethan blew out a sigh, leaning his head back on the tub's wall. He shook his head. "I… can guarantee Chris has no more than ten operators on the payroll."
A contemplative hum, and Bela said, "If that is true, then those ten people are all that stand between Miranda and your Rosemary."
They were the most capable people Ethan had ever met, so he could believe it. Hound Wolf Squad could uphold a prolonged war effort if they had a steady supply line.
Not that it changed anything. Battling Miranda didn't wipe Mia's blood off their hands.
Ethan lifted his head back up from the edge of the tub to look at Bela. "Those same ten people helped Chris kill Mia and take Rose."
Bela bit down on her bottom lip for a long moment to let Ethan's words settle. "The news of your wife's demise surprised Karl. Given how tightlipped Miranda is, she only told the Lords that she ambushed Redfield's convoy, and that was how she secured Rose."
Ethan tapped a restless finger on the edge of the tub. "Then she gave Rose to your mom for safekeeping?"
"Yes," Bela nodded, "and she is now unable to recover Rose, for fear that Redfield would ambush any attempts to transport her. Miranda wants neither Rose to be harmed in transit, nor for her to be freed in a jailbreak, so…"
"So she's stuck in the castle."
"Same goes for you, actually." Bela gave him a sheepish smile. "I may have," she cleared her throat, a sour look on her face, "prepared a report about your condition some time ago. I'm sorry about that."
Ethan bobbed one shoulder up in a shrug, completely unbothered. Bela had only been doing what was expected of her and her family. Ethan couldn't fault Bela for that, especially after all she'd done for him. "It's fine."
"Karl says the report piqued Miranda's interest, but she cannot risk Redfield staging an escape while you are being transported to her lab."
The Duke's words from all those days ago gained a degree of clarity. It was just as he'd said – Miranda was keeping her head down, for fear of it being blown off, and all her plans were faltering because of it.
As much as Ethan loathed the idea of owing one to the person who shot his wife five times in the chest – he owed Chris. Miranda would undoubtedly be poking around with Ethan and Rose's insides by now if she'd been able to arrange for their transport to her lab.
"It must be terribly conflicting." Bela frowned. "Redfield has wronged your family in the most horrible way, and yet…"
"Yet I can't blow his fucking head off with a sawn-off?"
A sad smile, and Bela nodded. "Precisely."
Whatever fucked up reason Chris had for murdering Mia still eluded them – and there was no telling where and when any answers may come. Chris hadn't been in any hurry to enlighten Ethan during their correspondence in Morse code; the answers would likely wait until they met in person.
Ethan could put a bullet in the bastard's head after the mess with Miranda was sorted out.
It felt like Ethan's sighs were getting deeper and heavier by the day as he let another one slip. "I'll deal with him when this is all over. Once I've got Rose, and I don't need to worry about Miranda or any lycan assholes chasing us down." Bela had earlier mentioned something that may tip the scales. "You said Karl told you where Miranda's lab is?"
"Apparently, none of the Lords personally venture down there. According to Karl, even my mother doesn't work in Miranda's main lab; she only works in one of the secondary stations in the network." Bela gave a sly smile, "But Karl does have an idea of the main lab's general vicinity."
If he could relay the same to Chris' drone, it would nudge them one step closer to taking Miranda out of the picture and ending the war. Nodding, Ethan asked, "Where is it?"
"There is a subterranean network of caves underneath the valley." Bela gestured beneath their feet. "Karl says the main lab is somewhere underneath this village in particular."
Ethan bobbed his head with slow nods. It allowed Bela to continue, "Of course, I also asked about the possibility of breaking you free immediately."
His attention snapped right back to Bela. She avoided his gaze for a moment, allowing an idle hand to dip into the surface of the water, playing with the bubbles. "You really asked him that?"
Bela's eyes went up; they were full of certainty and defiance alike.
"You're really willing to get into deep shit to get me out of here?" Ethan looked at Bela, the fire in her golden eyes shining bright. "You know what's gonna happen if you do that right? There's no going back from that."
While Daniela could go either way, and Ethan was optimistic of her possible support, Lady Dimitrescu and Cassandra were open and shut cases – they would not stand idly by if Bela tried to break him out. Things would escalate, and it sent Ethan's stomach churning to think of the conflict Bela would be dragged into on his behalf.
To think just two weeks ago, Bela was turning her nose up at Ethan, and reminding him they were not friends, and she was not here to save him from her sisters.
It wasn't so much that Ethan didn't believe Bela. Her heart was in the right place, and it was exceedingly clear that she cared for him. What struck Ethan more than anything was that he wasn't sure what an idiot like him had done to earn such stalwart support.
Bela pushed off the edge of the tub to stand up. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, she stepped around the tub to return to her stool. "To quote Karl, you and I, Ethan," She popped open a bottle of conditioner, took a generous helping, and began kneading it into Ethan's hair. "We're kind of in the shit together now."
The crass wording got a soft laugh from Ethan. He closed his eyes, allowing Bela's magical fingers to do their dance in his hair. More tingles ventured down his spine and along his skin. Ethan's sigh released of its own accord, perfectly contented and relaxed.
"If we are being technical about it, breaking you out would be child's play." Bela gathered up Ethan's bangs, now a little unruly, and needing to be swept back to stay out of his face. She ran her fingers through his hair. "I unlock your chest of equipment, give you a moment to prepare, and while you do so, I retrieve Rose from my mother's quarters. You can be out the front door in five minutes, and neither my sisters nor my mother will be any the wiser."
There was a 'but' coming.
"But," There it was, "I cannot say the same for the Lycans, Moroaice, Vârcolaci, Samce, and all other manner of creatures guarding the castle grounds. The same goes for mother, the rest of the Lords, and Miranda herself. There is no telling how long it would take for them to get involved." Bela sighed and began to rinse the conditioner out of Ethan's hair. "After everything I have seen, and everything Karl has told me, I know you are incredibly capable, Ethan. If anyone could fight them all singlehandedly, it would be you."
Ethan preempted the next 'but', "No way I'm fighting that many monsters while carrying Rose." And he couldn't exactly leave his daughter inside the castle and come back for her when the dust (or the snow, in this case) settled. The ruckus would undoubtedly attract even more creatures, and the situation would escalate by the moment. As Bela had said, it would only be a matter of time until Lady Dimitrescu caught wind of the commotion – or worse, Miranda herself.
Bela was similarly a force to be reckoned with, judging by the amount of blood on her coat alone, and when considering she'd only gotten a single injury from her brush with death. If the weather were any better, he may just refrain from turning her help away, if she offered it. He could use someone to watch his back out there. But as the temperature was still well below freezing, there was no way Ethan would let Bela risk her neck fighting alongside him in a half-cocked escape plan. Not now, at least.
"No choice but to wait, then." Ethan concluded. He only hesitated for a second before opening up, "You know, Chris actually reached out to me a couple of days ago."
Bela's fingers paused in his hair, and she hummed in interest. "How?"
"A drone." Ethan elaborated, in case the unmanned tech was beyond her general knowhow, "Lots of types of drones, but this one was a small, sneaky little mechanical device. Rolls around on two wheels and transmits video and audio feed to the user."
The interested hum returned, more drawn out and curious than ever. Bela scooped more water into her hands and continued sending goosebumps rippling down Ethan's skin with each stroke through his hair. "Go on."
"Chris is a bit of a dick when it comes to transparent communication," Ethan rolled his eyes, "So I didn't get a whole lot, other than the layout of the castle's second floor. Then some cryptic bullshit in Morse code."
Bela's fingers retracted from Ethan's hair as she scoffed. "You know Morse code?"
Ethan craned his head back, one eye winked shut from the stray conditioner-laced water trickling down. "Give me some credit, Bela. I'm not as dumb as I look."
Bela pursed her lips and shook her head. "Considering how dumb you do look, that is very easy to forget."
Scoffing, Ethan turned away, leaving Bela to giggle at him. Pouring another handful of water into his slick hair, Bela remarked, "Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate the openness. I'm sure your correspondence with Redfield was not something you were eager to share at first."
"We're in the shit together now," Ethan repeated Karl's words. "I don't think we have much more to hide from each other at this rate." He glanced at the bubbly water, "Other than – y'know – the obvious."
Somehow, it appeared to go over Bela's head as she continued massaging his scalp. "Which is?"
"My very naked-ass self?" Ethan half-winced, half-grinned as he got the words out, "With nothing but your damn bath bomb to keep my dignity intact?"
A sharp, breathless laugh from Bela before she pulled her hands back – and she reached for the stone shelving. She shook her head, muttering, "Silly man-thing." Towards the far end, Bela secured what looked like a champagne bottle – possibly the fanciest packaging for bubble bath Ethan had ever seen. She unscrewed the cap, pouring a generous helping into the water, just in front of Ethan. A moment later and Bela broke off half a pink bath bomb and chucked it into the water. It landed with a splash, right between Ethan's legs. Whether that was intentional or not was up for debate.
The water – pinker than the pinkest cotton candy Ethan had ever laid eyes on – fizzed and bubbled up a storm, filling the air with the scent of raspberries. When Ethan turned to look at Bela, he found her head cocked and her smile cheeky.
"Is that to your liking, Mister Winters?"
Ethan made a show of serious consideration, chewing the decision in his mind. Then, he nodded. "Five stars, Miss Dimitrescu. This is a decadent marinade I'm sitting in."
Bela's delighted giggle sent his heart twirling in his chest, and he felt it was wise to look away before he got any truly unwise ideas – not that it really helped.
"Anyway," Ethan cleared his throat, "The reason I brought it up was because the next time that drone comes by, I figure I should tell Chris about Miranda's lab."
It got a nod from Bela.
"Karl did say they suspected Redfield was hunting for Miranda's lab." A short, thoughtful pause, and Bela continued, "That would narrow down the area they need to search."
"They find Miranda, take her out of the picture, I grab Rose, they get me out of here, then I settle the score with Chris. Maybe Heisenberg won't even need to start a civil war if Chris nips this at the bud." Certainty settled into Ethan's voice as the words came out. It felt reassuring to follow a concrete chain of events. Even if he was leaving out Lady Dimitrescu's involvement and reaction to all of this.
"That is the… ideal turnout."
Bela had a point. Chances were that things would go sideways somewhere along that neat timeline Ethan was fabricating. "It is," Ethan admitted, "But I figure we just gotta wing everything else. Figure it out as we go along."
The corner of Ethan's lip tugged in a slight smile as it dawned on him – of how "I" had now become "we" when contemplating his escape with Rose.
"Quite the man with the plan you are, Ethan." Bela's sarcasm got a short laugh from Ethan. "But I suppose I have heard worse plans."
"You mean worse plans like," Ethan's grin went unseen, "Ride out into the freezing winter at midnight to dig up dirt on Miranda, and hope for the best?"
Bela nudged the back of his head as her scoff warmed his nape. "I'd like to see you come up with a better plan while drunk out of your skull."
"Oh, I am full of better plans after half a bottle of tequila. Too bad you didn't meet me in college."
Another warm chuckle fanned the back of his head, "Somehow, I get the feeling it would be wise to stay far away from college Ethan."
Ethan laughed under his breath, a grin spreading on his face.
He had to wonder what Bela would be like in the university setting. She felt like the honor student type – ready to one-up him every step of the way. The type that walked with her nose turned up at the thought of the wild, no-holds-barred partying that comprised Ethan's first two years in the University of Texas. The type that pulled an almost all-nighter in the library before almost running Ethan over with her car.
Ethan raised his brows to himself.
Beautiful, whip-smart, and with a penchant for causing him bodily harm – that was his type, apparently.
It was a good thing Mia didn't stab a sickle into his leg the first time they met. Although the screwdriver to the palm, and the chainsaw to the hand years later probably counted. There was a joke of love at first harm to be made here.
Bela's hands settled on his shoulders. Her thumb brushed the chain of his wedding ring. "That's enough from me, puppy." Bela's delicate touch felt the bruises around his neck. Softly, she said, "Tell me about your time with Daniela."
Ethan obliged. He started from the moment they'd last seen each other – with his ribs very broken, and Bela's mother very angry. The march to the library was a grueling one. Thankfully, it was relieved not long after, with the help of spare disinfectant in the bathroom and how swiftly his body mended the damage. The recollection of Daniela's ogling got a short laugh from Bela, until Ethan's lack of privacy drew out – and then Bela got quiet. Ethan would hazard to assume Bela was jealous – but she was the one playing with his hair while he sat in her bathtub, in her room. There currently wasn't much for her to be jealous about.
Bela remained silent when Ethan went over the multiple obsessive rearrangements of the library's shelves. It was clear and cut that Bela was fully aware of Daniela's problem. That went doubly so when Ethan spoke of Maria's demise and Daniela's remorse. By that point, Bela's arms crossed over Ethan's chest, and her chin rested atop his head.
Bela only shifted to place the occasional kiss to his head when his story got rough, or when he had to be exceptionally patient with Daniela, lest he risk further bodily harm. Whenever her lips would press to his hairline, his hands – wet and bubbly – would find her arm to give her an appreciative squeeze. It was a sort of heartachingly intimate gesture, performed with such ease and nonchalance that it made the little butterflies in his stomach do their mad dance. She interrupted him only to apologize for Daniela's deathly mood swings, but Ethan would just as quickly shrug it off. He'd already long since accepted it was a part of Daniela – a part he was committed to helping her work through.
Ethan was sure to leave out the moment where his instincts went white hot, and demanded he open the skylight. After Bela had learned of his past, there was no need to add fuel to the fear. There was no doubt in his mind that Bela had stewed in that anxiety already – the thought that she would come home to her sisters frozen solid and smashed to pieces.
Ethan similarly kept quiet about some of his conversations with Daniela – mainly his horndog days with Mia in college. Daniela teasing him endlessly was bad enough. Ethan did not need Bela finding out about his supply closet escapades.
Another "thank you," was whispered into Ethan's damp hair as Bela hugged him tighter. His well of patience for Daniela (and his foolhardy sense of invincibility) meant a lot to Bela. She loved her youngest sister fiercely, and it showed.
In time, Ethan's retelling of the previous day reached nightfall – and since honesty was the best policy (and Daniela had already alluded to it), he didn't exclude the redhead using his lap as a pillow. With Bela's head nuzzling Ethan's own, there was no telling what sort of fiercely jealous scowl she wore. Ethan felt it was safe to assume she was chewing on her bottom lip, as was her habit. When Ethan mentioned Grimm's Fairy Tales there was a shift in Bela's demeanor, and any latent jealousy vanished in favor of a contemplative silence. Just the same, Ethan avoided dragging it out, and hurried the narration along to the next morning. He glossed over the anxious storm he endured while worrying over Bela's whereabouts. He focused instead on Daniela's missing money, and their visit to the Duke.
Bela gently pulled herself back from Ethan's damp head of hair. Her arms similarly retracted just enough to rest loosely over his shoulders. "I must confess – I am the thieving sister behind Daniela's missing stash."
Ethan snorted a laugh out. "Is that how you got the new duds? The thick-ass coat and everything?"
A short pause before Bela admitted, "I was too drunk to go all the way back to my room. I will repay Daniela as soon as I can."
"You better," Ethan chuckled, "She dipped into Cassandra's stash. I kinda get the feeling good ol' Cassandra is gonna be pissed when she finds out. Knowing how bad she has it out for me, she'll probably blame me for the missing lunch money."
He could practically picture Bela's brows raising in alarm from behind him. "You're right. I will sort that out… tomorrow."
The exhaustion was audible in her voice. Ethan shifted in the tub to look back at Bela and the dark circles under her eyes. "You've been up for how long now?"
Bela tilted her head side to side for a moment. "I stopped counting after thirty hours."
"Jesus," Ethan muttered. "You can go on ahead. I'll finish up in here so you can rest. I promise I won't drown myself the moment you leave." He reached over to his shoulder to give Bela's hand a squeeze. "Okay?"
Bela's smile, tired as it was, was still as inexplicably charming as ever. "Okay."
As she began to straighten up, Ethan got another eyeful of the gashes on Bela's arm. The deathly, dour color of the wounds had subsided, but the deep gashes persisted. The chunks of missing biomatter had yet to regenerate. She had gotten sufficiently warmed up, but the lack of blood may have been keeping her from healing.
Might as well test out their hypothesis before Bela left.
"Before you go," It was easy to get the words out. "Take some of my blood."
Ethan turned to better face Bela and found her brows pitched in that familiar, vaguely worried and conflicted look. Hesitating, she began, "Ethan…"
"It's no biggie," Ethan smiled and shrugged his shoulders, "Least I can do for everything you've done for me."
"Our… relationship," Bela's shy eyes ducked for a second, "It is not transactional. Not anymore. You know that, right? You do not owe me anything, especially not your blood."
"I know, but," Ethan squeezed her hand, "C'mon, tapeworm. You could use it. Just a sip – won't do any harm, yeah?"
Bela chewed on her lips for an exceedingly long moment, eyes locked with Ethan's. "Are you certain?"
"Yeah. I just wanna help."
Bela took in a breath and released it in a slow, shaky, warm exhale. She nodded, her waves of blonde hair swaying. "Okay," She whispered.
Ethan faced straight ahead and bent his neck to the left to give her ease of access. "Before you ask, don't worry – I think I'm as relaxed as can be in here."
The hot laugh against his neck had Ethan fighting off another shiver. He closed his eyes and gave Bela the time she needed to run her fingertips along his skin – getting a feel of his pulse. Her cascading hair tickled the bare skin of his face and shoulder as she leaned in close. Bela's velvety lips made contact with his neck, brushing along with that touch of hers, lighter than air.
Ethan remembered very well how their last feeding had gone. His heart thumped in his chest with a misplaced sense of anticipation.
Well – perhaps not too misplaced, considering Ethan was as naked as Bela was beautiful, and she was about to drink his blood.
Bela's lips ghosted along his skin as she whispered quietly, almost reverently, "Thank you."
She planted her right hand on his shoulder, while her left snaked around to cross over the broad surface of his chest. Her thumb settled into a nook on his collarbone.
Hot, shaky, almost nervous breaths fanned his neck, and another little tremble danced its way down Ethan's spine. The shivers Bela gave him contrasted the steamy, raspberry-scented air wafting from the tub. Then, fangs broke flesh, and Bela's contented hum followed suit.
The warmth at his neck turned hot; the dampness of Bela's lips grew wet as she closed her mouth around the wound.
The familiar euphoria began to rock Bela's frame, just as it had each time before. Soft hums turned to yearning moans. Her fingertips on his shoulder shifted, nails digging into his skin for just a beat – until she quickly grew conscious of her hands despite the waves of ecstasy. She pulled her nails free from his shoulder before they could draw blood – but not before she dragged them across his skin, leaving red trails as they went. Bela's other arm tugged him closer to her – tightly.
With Bela bent over to latch onto his neck, she kept Ethan close – ensuring there wasn't a scant inch between them, save for the wall of the bathtub. Given their position, even through the haze setting in, Ethan was acutely aware of Bela's soft chest pressing to his damp upper back. That, and the needy moans against his neck, had his blood (whatever wasn't spilling straight into Bela's hot mouth) rushing straight to his loins.
Bela's free hand landed on his arm, and she grasped for him desperately, fervently – searching for something, anything to hold onto. With the happy lightheaded buzz making its home in Ethan's head, he bent his arm towards her. Bela's palm caught the back of his hand in record time, and her fingers eased between his digits, entwining and holding him firm – as if she may be swept away entirely if she didn't. The contact of their intertwined fingers drew another soft moan from Bela – more sensual and needy than the last as whatever happy hormones in Ethan's bloodstream trickled into Bela's mouth.
The hand Bela placed on his chest was equally restless. In between her absolutely delighted moans, her hand trailed its way up his face and her fingers eased into his messy mop of a head.
She really liked to hold his hair, Ethan idly noted as the torrent of butterflies in his stomach grew in volume. The tingles running down his spine continued to spread out to every inch of his body. They were joined by that happy fog in his mind – perfectly content, and then some, to feel Bela so enamored by him and his blood.
Whatever unwise thoughts he'd had prior were only being amplified by Bela's hungry lips to his neck, and her firm, needy hands holding him close.
Ethan's own free hand – currently gripping the tub wall like his life depended on it – sought a more fulfilling spot. His neck tingled pleasantly, and the contented haze filled his mind, leaving him little room to think twice before he took a page from Bela's book.
Eyes shut, Ethan blindly felt around until his hand landed on Bela's cheek, cupping her face for a moment. His hand ventured back, fingers easing into her golden locks. Then he tightened his hold on Bela's hair and pulled her closer still. It prompted a borderline lewd moan from Bela, hot and hungry against his neck, and it took his mind straight down the drain.
They could do away with that damn dress of hers – it wasn't fair he was the only one naked in this tub. Ethan ought to pitch the idea and volunteer to personally free her from the constrictive fabric. Bela's dress clung to her generous curves like water and, not for the first time, he wondered what she looked like without it. He wondered what faces she would make with his own lips to her slender neck, and his hands undoing the laces. He wondered how well he could make Bela recreate those sounds she made once he pulled her gorgeous, bare figure into the tub to join him. He wondered how many of the Moroaice they would wake up when they let all the walls down, with her skin under his, and only water between them.
Of course, actually voicing any of that was far more daunting than facing a village full of lycans. The thoughts instead coalesced into him mumbling out, "Take as much as you need, Bela."
Bela's fingers tightened between his, and the moans and whimpers against his skin were interrupted by a hum – almost as if she was questioning his semi-delirious sentiment.
But Ethan's skin was alight, tingles running all along his skin, and his heart, excitable and frantic, leapt against his ribcage. There was little rationality or reason to be found as the butterflies flew rampant in his stomach, seeking attention.
"My blood's yours." Ethan muttered, quieter than a whisper.
The words had tumbled out with a mind of their own. The sheer cheesiness of the delirious statement had Ethan wondering if he subconsciously ripped that line straight out of Twilight – even if it perfectly fit how he felt.
An audible pop, and Bela's fangs came free. The bathroom was still and silent, save for their panting. Bela returned her lips to the wound, gently cleaning the excess. Her desperate grip on Ethan released, and Ethan let go of her hair in turn. Bela blindly fumbled for a hand towel on the nearby rack. When her lips lifted up, the soft towel took their place, and Bela leaned her temple against Ethan's for a moment.
Bela's bright red lips were parted as she took in breathless gulps of air, and let them out in coppery exhales that fanned his cheek.
Ethan wondered what her lips tasted like, blood and all. He only needed to turn to the side and tilt his head. They were close, so close.
Bela caught on to his not-so-subtle glances at her lips, and apparently took that as her sign to slowly pull back. After pressing the small towel to his neck for a moment longer, she dabbed at her glistening lips, cleaning off whatever blood she could not lick away.
The dreamy look in her eyes persisted, and as soon as the towel was dropped to the smooth stone floor, she draped her arms around Ethan's chest. Just as she had earlier, she rested her chin atop the crown of his head. "Ethan," Bela purred, and the sensual tone wasn't one he'd ever heard from her before. A fresh wave of shivers brought goosebumps along his skin, and his insides stirred with a wholly unchaste interest. Bela pressed her lips, free of blood, to his damp hair as she mumbled, "Oh baby."
Ethan's heart stilled.
Bela cleared her throat, pulling her lips away from his head. "Puppy. I said 'puppy.'"
Laughing under his breath, Ethan muttered, "Sure you did."
"I did," Bela patted his chest, insisting, "And there is nothing you can do to prove otherwise."
Ethan shook his head, the amusement banishing the rather carnal train of thought for the time being – making it easier to steer it into that filing cabinet in the back of his mind labeled 'do not do.' His burning attraction to Bela (her new slip of the tongue and all) was something to dissect another time. A time when she wasn't still embracing him from behind, arms planted on his bare chest and tempting the unwise thoughts to make a return so soon.
And now that her arms came to mind – Ethan's eyes landed on the claw marks. Despite the lightheadedness, he was growing aware of the whole reason the feeding came about to begin with.
"Huh. Would you look at that," Ethan muttered, a sense of wonder in his tone. He ran his hand over her arm and got a better look.
Bela drew her arm back, turning it to study the wound; a smile steadily tugged at her lips. The gashes were far shallower than they had been moments ago. It was pink and pale in places, much like any fresh, recovering scar. Each cut carried the faintest glimmery sheen – perhaps Bela's bug-woman cells at work repairing the damage. There was still a way to go, but this was considerable improvement over before.
It was good to know they now had a working methodology to addressing any wounds Bela (or her sisters) may sustain.
"Thank you," Bela made it a point to consciously say, "Ethan."
"Aw," Ethan put on a frown, "and here I was thinking you had a new pet name for me."
Bela curled her lip in a show of displeasure, even if the twinkle in her eyes told a different story. "Think again, man-thing."
She pulled back from him completely then, and retrieved the discarded hand towel before standing up. "I will leave you to it for now," Bela spoke as she took the towel to the tips of her wavy hair, which had gotten wet when she'd bent over to feed from his neck. Ethan averted his eyes when Bela brought the towel over to her chest, patting her skin dry after she'd stuck herself to his damp upper back.
Clearing his throat, Ethan replied, "See ya then."
Bela turned and made for the door, and Ethan looked anywhere in the room but the enticing sway of her hips.
That 'do not do' filing cabinet was getting harder and harder to keep locked tight.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading, and for your patience with the extra time this chapter took! Please be sure to punch those fave and follow buttons on your way out, and shoot me a comment to let me know how you liked this one.
Bela scrubbing Ethan in the tub, *and* a feeding? Don't say I never gave you guys anything ;)
I hope you fellas liked this next entry into the Bethan reunion mini-arc. Some glimpses of what's to come, and some details brought to light by Bela, thanks to Karl. I imagine not a lot of Bela's info is a huge surprise to you readers that have played the game, but considering how in the dark moldy boy is, it can kind of be a lot. Still got a lot in store for you guys, and I'm eager as always to share it when I can in the coming weeks.
So, when it rains, it pours, and that's sort of what happened to me the past couple weeks. They haven't been great, to be honest, and I got a lot less rest and downtime than I was planning, which resulted in the late chapter. As you can probably guess, that means no update this coming weekend. Chapter 34 won't be popping up until the weekend of the 13th, at the earliest. Some big stuff going on in my life right now, so my free time and sanity are a little pinched, and I'm squeezing the writing in whenever I can.
Hope you guys are all safe and well in these crazy times. I'll catch you all at the next update in a week or two.
