Vitality (Vitality Series #1)

Chapter 33 Don't Fear the Reaper pt.7

Layton entered her room and stopped at the sight of it. Ava took that moment to scurry off his shoulder.

Every single window was covered with thick black paper. Plastic sheets were thrown everywhere for protection and taped to the ground under the wall flanking the brick wall.

"I want to create a mural on that wall. And I want both of us to create it," she said. "But first we have to prime it."

"We?" He turned to her to find her gathering the spin brushes. "Is this necessary right now? Your left hand is still injured from last..." He didn't want to bring it up. He took the roller and pushed her to the side unceremoniously, like she were a tree branch in his way. "I'll get this. Why don't you work on that painting you were complaining about?"

"Perfect. Just what I was hoping." Her face was very well composed, but something wicked was dancing in her eyes. It could have fooled a lesser being, though he was anything but. His eyes narrowed — she was still playing.

Sneak.

"Mm hmm," he responded, falling into the game, and wrapped his arm around her waist to kiss her before letting her get on with it.

"I'm gonna get into something more comfortable."

"Mm. Hmm."

What was she up to?

When she returned, she was in a silky cream-colored robe with black striped stockings running up her legs and her hair brushed to a shine. He only glanced at her from the side when she wasn't looking, but his inquiry betrayed his notice anyway.

"Why are you wearing those on your legs?"

"I've been wearing them all day."

"Under your pants?"

"I wasn't wearing pants earlier. Or underwear."

He turned to her completely then, and she turned from him to set up her workstation. Now it was her swatting him out of her way like a fly when he drifted to her to investigate.

He growled as he went back to the wall and took off his shirt in response. Satisfied with the reaction of her eyes, he went back to his job — the sound of her laugh under her breath made him glance suspiciously at her again from the side, his eyes narrow slits now.

Some aggravating time later, the wall was finished with priming, and so was her painting, and still nothing happened... he was beginning to think he misread her. But as he sat on the end of Ava's bed, observing her as she moved about the room, he'd figured out what she was doing, and reclined back to watch the farce unfold.

Her painting was still drying. It was important, she said. Had to be careful with it, she implored. Pointing at him, she warned, it's your job too, making sure it's not touched tonight. I made promises for it — it's important, she said again. She was planting seeds in his head, so the moment anything threatened the precious painting, he would save it, using his speed to get to it, of course. Did she really believe he would show his cards for such a thing... or was her desperation getting to her? It was a weak manipulation, by far the more pathetic attempt, but definitely not the less amusing one.

The music she had changed to was quite a loathsome sound... at first... anyway; until she began to move to it — her movement continued to the other side of a room and she picked up a fresh layer of plastic. Instead of shimmying it away from the precious painting, she stayed close — this was too good a performance — she was spinning and gliding with it now like some ethereal forest nymph.

That was before it morphed into a strange and goofy parody... Why was she moving like that? Now that rotund of a kitten of hers caught a corner of the plastic, turning the whole thing on its head and he had no idea what he was watching. She was back to her parody, and the rotund kitten was dancing at her heels, being pet and pushed with her feet — she was egging the thing on. They were chasing each other. He was jealous of that damned thing. Had dark thoughts about it.