Page 17 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope (The Children Of The Gods #100)

TIM

T im stared at the television screen without really seeing what was playing. He sat on one end of Hildegard's couch, hyperaware of the careful distance between them—not quite at opposite ends, but far enough apart that there was no chance of accidental contact.

Hildegard sat with her legs tucked under her, a bowl of popcorn balanced on the middle cushion between them, like a buttery barrier.

She wore yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt that said, 'Nurses Call the Shots,' her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun.

She looked comfortable, relaxed, and entirely at ease with their arrangement.

Which was the problem.

They'd been sharing the house for three weeks now, three weeks of this careful dance of roommates who might be something more but probably weren't. They watched TV together most evenings, went on walks around the village, and shared meals.

But he slept in the guest room, she slept in hers, and the space between them might as well have been an ocean.

The doorbell ringing made them both look up.

"That must be Magnus." Hildegard paused the documentary. "He said he might stop by after work."

Tim felt annoyed and slightly embarrassed.

He'd actually texted Magnus earlier, asking if he could come over, but Magnus hadn't replied, and instead, had told Hildegard that he was coming.

Tim would have preferred to do this when she wasn't home.

He needed to talk to someone, and Magnus was probably the closest thing he had to a friend in the village.

Well, besides Andrew, but Andrew didn't seem interested in being friends.

He had a little girl who was the center of his universe, and he preferred to spend every free moment with her and his wife.

Tim couldn't blame him for that. The guy had his priorities straight.

Then there was Roni, but he was so busy in the tech lab that he barely had time to eat, let alone entertain an old acquaintance.

Hildegard opened the door, and Magnus's elegant frame filled the doorway. As always, the guy was dressed to the nines.

"Good evening, Hildegard," Magnus said warmly, then nodded to Tim.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Hildegard offered. "Beer? Wine? I think I have some of that mead you like."

"Mead would be perfect, thank you."

"Tim? Another beer?"

"Sure," he said, though he'd barely touched his first one.

Hildegard disappeared into the kitchen, and Magnus settled into the armchair.

"You look good," Magnus said. "Hildegard must be working you hard."

"She is." Tim glanced down at himself.

He'd grown four inches and put on muscle mass that would have taken years of gym work to achieve as a human. His clothes had all had to be replaced, and he sometimes still misjudged his new strength.

"It feels weird," Tim admitted. "I broke three coffee mugs in the first week."

Magnus chuckled. "I still remember that phase, even though it was a long time ago, and I was a teenager at the time. The key is to always assume things are more fragile than you think, and it's especially important to remember when being intimate with human ladies."

Tim wasn't intimate with anyone, human or immortal.

Hildegard returned with their drinks, handing Magnus a large mug of mead and placing a fresh beer in front of Tim.

"I will leave you boys to talk," she said. "I'll watch the latest romcom in my room." She cast Tim a smile. "I didn't want to subject you to the torture of having to watch it with me."

He dipped his head. "That's much appreciated, but I wouldn't have minded at all. Would have given me more material to make fun of."

She laughed. "That's why I didn't want to watch it with you. Some things are not supposed to be made fun of."

"I disagree."

"I know." She continued walking and waved at them before disappearing into the corridor.

Tim waited until he heard her door close before slumping back against the couch.

"That bad?" Magnus asked, taking a sip of his mead.

Tim groaned. "We live together, but we're like a couple of polite roommates. I don't even know if she's interested in me that way."

Magnus studied him for a moment. "Have you tried talking to her?"

"And say what? 'Hey, Hildegard, I know you invited me to live here out of pity because I had nowhere else to go after my transition and needed physical therapy, but I have feelings for you?

' That's so romantic that she will right away fall into my arms and kiss me breathless. " He batted his eyelashes.

Magnus set down his mug. "Hildegard doesn't do anything out of pity. If she invited you to stay, it's because she wanted you here."

"As a roommate."

"Maybe. Or maybe she's waiting for you to make a move." Magnus leaned back, the chair creaking ominously. "What was your experience like with women before your transition?"

Tim felt heat rise to his face. "Not extensive."

Magnus waited, patient as a mountain.

"Fine. Nearly nonexistent," Tim admitted.

"I went on a few dates in college, none of which led to a second date.

After that, I threw myself into my work and pizza.

" He patted his flat stomach. "I'm glad that's at least fixed.

I never liked to watch what I ate." He picked at the label on his beer bottle.

"I actually looked into those companion robots.

You know, the really sophisticated ones from Japan?

I figured if I couldn't connect with a real woman, maybe an artificial one would be better than nothing.

" He snorted. "The best part about them is that you can put them in the closet when you are not interested in their company.

I pity men who have to listen to their wives' nonstop gabbing. "

He was such a liar. He would have gladly listened to endless gabbing from a woman if she actually gave a damn about him. It would have been music to his ears.

"I didn't know those kinds of robots were for real." Magnus's expression didn't change, which Tim appreciated.

"They are, and I even saved up for one," Tim continued. "I had the money set aside and everything. Then this happened." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Now I'm this, whatever this is, living with an incredible female who treats me like a pleasant but sexless houseguest."

"You've never been much of a ladies' man," Magnus said. It wasn't a question.

"That's the understatement of the century. Several centuries, in your case."

Magnus was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider something. "Have you heard of Perfect Match?"

"The dating service?"

"It's more than that. They offer romantic fantasy adventures, immersive experiences that can teach you about romance and help you build confidence. Think of it as practicing in a safe environment."

Tim frowned. "I wanted to try that, but not as a learning experience. More out of necessity and frustration. Your angle is interesting, though."

Magnus lifted his jug in a sort of salute. "Just think about it. You can learn how to read social cues, practice conversations, and even experience different types of romantic situations. Several of those, and you will become a Don Juan."

"It's expensive."

"It's free for clan members," Magnus said. "The downside is the waiting list. We only have four machines, and everyone wants a turn."

Tim couldn't imagine the flawless immortals needing practice in romantic situations, but Perfect Match offered much more than just romantic encounters.

He would probably be the only one requesting that sort of thing.

"It seems kind of pathetic, doesn't it? How am I even going to explain what I want?"

Magnus shrugged. "I never went on a virtual adventure, but I heard that there is an extensive online questionnaire. Do you really care what the artificial intelligence thinks about you?"

"No. That makes things easier, sort of. What am I going to tell Hildegard?"

"Here's a thought," Magnus said. "Hildegard is an adventurous sort. She likes trying new things."

"Your point?"

"Maybe she'd be interested in going with you.

She could be your romantic instructor without knowing that's what she's doing.

You could frame it as an adventure, something fun and different to try together.

If she says yes, you'll have your answer about whether she's interested.

If she says no, at least you'll know where you stand. "

"And if she laughs at me?"

"She won't. I've known Hildegard for a long time, and that's not the kind of woman she is."

Tim took a long drink from his beer, thinking it over. The idea terrified him, but so did the thought of spending the next few decades or even centuries living in limbo.

"What would I say to her? 'Hey, want to go on a romantic fantasy adventure with me?' sounds like a pickup line from someone who doesn't know how pickup lines work."

Magnus chuckled. "Fair point. Has she mentioned anything she wants to do? Places she wants to see?"

Tim thought about their conversations during their walks.

"She mentioned wanting to see the Northern Lights someday.

And she's curious about wine tasting in France, but now that Gertrude is mated, Hildegard has no one to go with.

She said she'd feel awkward going alone because she doesn't know anything about wine. "

Magnus gave him a knowing look. "That sounds to me like a big fat hint that you've missed completely."

"You think she wanted me to offer to go with her? I can't leave the village yet, so that doesn't make sense."

"She might have been testing you, but don't worry. You can still salvage the situation. As far as I know, Perfect Match offers a Paris vacation. You can suggest that."

"That's...actually not terrible advice."

"I have my moments." Magnus finished his mead, stood, and headed toward the door, then paused. "You are no longer the same person you were a month ago, and I don't mean just physically. Take a look in the mirror and have a serious talk with the new Tim. You need a new script for your self-talk."

After Magnus left, Tim sat in the living room for a while, staring at the paused image of a bird of paradise mid-display on the TV screen.

The male bird had its wings spread, showing off spectacular plumage in an elaborate dance designed to attract a mate.

It looked ridiculous and magnificent at the same time.

He heard Hildegard's door open and her soft footsteps coming down the hall.

"Did Magnus leave already?" she asked.

She'd changed into pajamas that he was well familiar with by now. The fleece pants had cartoon sheep on them, the pink tank top had a white fluffy sheep on its front, and it always made him smile.

"Yeah, just now."

She sat back on the couch in the same spot as before. "Want to finish the episode?"

"Actually," Tim said, his heart suddenly pounding, "can I ask you something?"

She turned to face him, pulling one knee up on the couch. "Sure."

"Have you ever tried a Perfect Match virtual adventure?"

"I did. Solo sky diving. It was much more terrifying than I expected. Going in, I knew it wasn't real, but once you are inside, you don't know that it only happens in your head, and I nearly peed my pants."

"No, you didn't. You are the brave Hildegard, and you would never pee your pants. That's more up my alley."

She tilted her head. "Why the sudden interest in Perfect Match?"

This was it—the moment where he either took the leap or retreated into safe, comfortable limbo.

"Magnus mentioned it, and then I remembered what you said about wanting to see the Northern Lights and wine tasting in France, and I thought that we might do that together inside a Perfect Match adventure.

That way, I don't have to wait until my transition is complete so that I can leave the village. "

She grinned at him. "Are you asking me on a romantic fantasy adventure in France, Tim?"

There was no point dissembling now. "Yes?"

She was quiet for a moment that stretched like eternity. Then she laughed—not mockingly, but with what sounded like genuine delight.

"It took you long enough," she said.

"What?"

"I was starting to think that the transition changed you in more ways than one. After all that talk about me being a fifteen on your scale of hotness, I was expecting more initiative."

"I didn't know if you..." He stopped, processing what she'd said. "You've been waiting for me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I invited you to live with me. I spend my evenings watching TV with you instead of going out with friends. I go on walks with you every day, and I supervise your physical rehabilitation. What did you think was happening here?"

"I thought you were just doing your job and being super nice about it."

She shifted closer on the couch, close enough that he could smell her shampoo. "I'm not that nice, Tim. In fact, I'm quite naughty."