“I am here, Lily.”
He entered the room with a man in a business suit who was obviously under his thrall. They both carried a bunch of shopping bags on each arm. After depositing them all on the bed, Amon thanked the gentleman, murmured a few words, and he left, happy as could be despite the fact that I was sure he hadn’t received payment for any of the items Amon was pulling from the bags. As he left, I spied the glint of gold on his name tag, and I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at his departing form. “You put a spell on the vice president of the hotel and made him schlep bags up here?”
Amon shrugged. “The store with women’s clothing was closed and he was the only one who could open it.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I gave him a look, but Amon ignored me and began plowing through the bags.
“I did not know which clothes would fit the best, so there are several different styles and sizes,” he explained.
“You know, even if the security cameras didn’t see you, he could get into a lot of trouble with his boss. He could even go to jail.”
Amon waved a dismissive hand. “Since you explained the camera on your phone to me, I have discovered how to disable them wherever we go. They are quite simple machines.”
“Okay, I’m just saying it might be best to lie low sometimes.”
Twisting to look at me, Amon asked with a puzzled expression, “You wish for me to lie down on the floor?”
“No. Never mind,” I said with a sigh.
Rifling through one of the bags, I found a button-down shirt and a pair of jeans much too large. Yanking the jeans from the bag, I held them up and raised my eyebrows with a smirk. “Wow, you really are a bad guesser.”
Amon looked up. “Those are not for you. They are mine.”
“Ah.” I handed him the jeans. After gathering a few more items, he started to leave, but then stopped and turned around.
“Your hair is different.”
“Yes, I noticed. Thanks for the highlights, by the way.” I pulled a blond curl away from my face and let it go. Dropping the bags with a heavy thud, Amon came closer and tentatively reached out his hand, but then he paused as if asking for permission. “It’s okay,” I said. “You can touch it. I like the streaks.”
Amon twisted a curl around his finger and gently pulled it straight. The tip of his finger brightened as he drew the curl out and I could actually see sunlit ripples travel down to the ends of my hair.
“It seems like where you touch my hair, it changes color.”
“Yes.” He watched the transformation with curiosity. “But I did not make it curl.”
“No. I did that myself.”
Amon let the newly blond strand go and then backed away a step. “I am sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. Like I said, I like the color.” He said nothing and just stared at me, so I asked, “Do you hate it? Is that the problem?”
“No. I find it…beautiful.”
“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Amon shook his head, turned, and said, “Dress in something comfortable. We will be journeying through what you call a sandstorm.”
“Will we be coming back to the hotel?”
“Yes. We can return.”
“Okay. I’ll pack light, then.”
Amon left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I couldn’t get a sense of what was going on with Amon, and that bothered me. He was upset about something, but I couldn’t tell what that something was.