Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)
Page 24
Laurent took a deep breath and nodded slowly, forcing himself to ignore the pain in his arm.
The giant groaned, looking at the messy floor. “But you will clean this up, because I’m not gonna. Now strip. We need to see if you’re hurt anywhere else.”
“E-excuse me?” Laurent choked up, twisting his body to look up at the man behind him.
The giant showed him the glass screen in the corner. “Go on. Take off your clothes, you can take a shower, and we will see if you need a doctor.”
King nodded and even smiled. “Get all that blood off you. If nothing else, then it will at least help with your smell.”
Laurent looked down at the dark burgundy stains covering the whole front of his body. He’d known they were there, yet somehow it only hit him now that it was the dark blood that had oozed out of Fane’s stomach, and the bright one that spurted at Laurent from his throat. He was feeling sick again, and he rushed to undo the buttons of his beloved tailcoat.
“He’s in shock. He’s trembling like an engine in winter,” King whispered to the giant, but Laurent was more than aware of the words. He was going blind, not deaf. But it was true, he could barely handle unbuttoning his coat.
“Yeah. We should have Jake call any museums and theatres in the area. He might be their employee.”
“If he is, he’s had some kind of meltdown. We can’t be pulled into his shit. We’ve got enough on our plate as is.”
Laurent carefully put the ruined coat over the edge of the tub, and continued disrobing, disgusted by the blood that soaked all the way to his skin. He was sure there were clots of it in his hair, and he needed to wash them out so badly he itched all over.
“You remember your name?” the giant asked.
Laurent pulled his boots off, already worried how he would save all of his clothes from such terrible damage. “My name is Laurent Mercier.”
The silence that followed made him look up from the buttons of his breeches that always gave him a bit of trouble.
King sighed, but he didn’t seem to be speaking to Laurent. “Give me a break.”
“You think Knight would know him?” the giant asked, and despite his earlier anger, he started gathering the green slime and pieces of glass with a small shovel.
“I don’t even know anymore. This is some first-class bullshit.”
Since he wasn’t being spoken to anymore, Laurent took off all his clothes and put them in a neat pile on the edge of the tub. At least a layer of bodily fluids was off him, but he was all too aware of his own nakedness, the red stains on his body, and the blood still dripping from his hand.
“Will… someone draw a bath? Or… do I… I mean, I could do it myself. Please, instruct me.”
“Get into the shower,” the giant said, but seeing Laurent’s confusion, he gestured at the screen in the corner.
Laurent approached it, only now noticing the screen was a door with small handles molded out of the glass. He expected the slabs of glass to be heavier and colder, but it must have been some kind of infernal invention that did not exist in the human world yet. As instructed, he entered the large space inside. He could easily stretch out his hands to the sides if he wanted to, but how would that help him clean his body—he had no idea.
“Just lift the big lever. The temperature’s set.”
“This one?” Laurent pulled on a strangely light lever that looked like made of silver but was definitely not. Cold water assaulted him in a flash, and it wouldn’t stop hitting his flesh. He squealed and cowered in the corner, but it was no use. The water reached him there as well.
With the two men watching him like hawks, he curled into a ball, forced to endure the shock and get used to the cold temperature. Or perhaps it was the temperature that adjusted for him, because gradually it reached a pleasant heat, as if some good soul added freshly boiled water to the cold in perfect proportion.
“Use any gel you want,” the giant said from beyond the screen, and it turned Laurent’s attention to a metal shelf containing a whole array of bottles. They all looked like made of glass, but upon touch they turned out to be something else altogether, a type of resin perhaps?
He grabbed one of them, and worked out that he could unscrew the top, releasing an intense scent of pine. This had to be the first thing to bring him any happiness since his doomed arrival at Fane’s. He poured some ‘gel’ straight onto his head and began working it in as the water kept lavishing his body with pleasant warmth. The liquid created a foam, much like soap, but was endlessly more pleasant to use and smelled nicer too!