West of Want (Hearts of the Anemoi) Read Online Free PDF Page B

fridge and wandered around enough to turn on a few lights and her iPod. The light and music filled the house, feeling like company on the cold, rainy night. Her evening consisted of a dinner of chicken noodle soup at the table and reading the last few days’ newspapers that had piled up on the front porch, and even that was more than she probably should’ve done. When her eyelids drooped, Ella left her dinner mess for the morning and retreated slowly through the house, turning everything off on the way to the upstairs bathroom.
    Once there, the idea of bathing took root, and sounded so delicious she gave in despite her exhaustion. What she really wanted was a shower, but her bandages made that impossible. She filled the tub with warm water, then turned to undress. No way she was getting her top off. Not by herself. She dug into a drawer and found a pair of scissors. Careful to hold the material out from her skin, Ella cut the shirt from V-neck to hemline and gingerly slipped it off her shoulders.
    Washing her long hair one-handed proved a frustrating task, but she felt so much better when she was done she could hardly regret it. The water was warm and soothing, luring her to doze off. In the quiet stillness, she had the strangest sensation she wasn’t alone, but knew it was just the wishful thinking of her grief playing tricks on her. She sighed and pulled the plug with her toes before she really did fall asleep.
    As she stumbled into her bedroom afterward, Ella decided to skip the bother of trying to get a shirt on. Instead, she simply slid under the thick pile of covers. Cold at first, they warmed quickly. She arranged the pillows as the nurse had suggested to keep from rolling onto her right side. Achy as her shoulder was, though, Ella was pretty sure even the slightest movement in that direction would wake her right back up.
    Her body melted into the inviting comfort of the big bed. She lingered for long moments right at the cusp of unconsciousness. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
    “I feel you watching over me. Thank you for being here. I love you,” she murmured, thoughts of her dead twin the last she had before finally drifting off to sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Zephyros stood, stunned.
    He was ancient. He was immortal. He was a god. Yet this slip of a mortal woman pulled the ground out from under him over and over again. And she didn’t even know he was there.
    Or maybe she did?
    Every time he convinced himself to go, she said or did something that intrigued him. Or, worse, concerned him, and he’d find himself negotiating for just a little more time. Her pleased reaction to his flowers, her lie to the doctor and nurses, her pain at seeing her own reflection, at having that young doctor poke and prod her ruined shoulder. He couldn’t leave.
    In truth, he didn’t want to.
    His interest was stupid—and dangerous—but how many other times had he ignored the warning signs and plowed straight ahead? What his brothers said about him was true. He was apparently hardwired to fall, and fall hard. He couldn’t help it, though. Something to do with the interconnectedness of love and life and all that bullshit. Fat lot of good it had done him.
    And then, as if each of those earlier moments hadn’t intrigued him enough, her words as she fell asleep nailed his feet to the floor. Did she really feel his presence? Surely, her expression of love wasn’t intended for him. But he was here, even if only in his elemental form, and he was real. And he was, in fact, very much watching over her.
    As compelling as all of those reasons were, they paled in comparison to the one that kept him rooted to her side since she’d fully regained consciousness. When he was in her presence, a fundamental sensation of peace flowed through him. The first time he’d felt it, he’d nearly gone to his knees in sheer relief and surprise. For long, wondrous moments, the ancient pain and sadness and humiliation lifted. Sheer ease of heart,