Chapter 240 | Where Do You Want Me?

’It’s time for clean up.’

Then he started to clean up.

He took the bodies of the remaining thugs—the ones Mira hadn’t incinerated, the ones who had died by his own hands—and stacked them in the backyard. Kreg lifeless body went on top. Dexter carried them all as if they weighed nothing.

When he reached the backyard, Selene was cultivating on the swinging chair.

She turned to face him as he walked in.

She ’saw’ the corpses Dexter was dragging raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Dexter blinked, then offered a small, apologetic nod. "Sorry for the disturbance."

Selene shrugged. "It’s all right."

Dexter threw the corpses onto the center of the backyard. Then, activating his Heavenly Flame, a fireball materialized in front of him and landed in the corpses.

The corpses burned.

The smell that rose was not unpleasant. It was the particular, rich, smoky aroma of roasting meat—barbecue, almost, if one didn’t think too hard about the source. That was the main reason Dexter hadn’t burned them in the living room. The smell would have lingered and seeped into the furniture.

Here, in the open air, it would disperse.

And fortunately, the air purifier Mira had burned—the Pure-Air Fragrance Artifact—had already cleansed the interior. The smell wouldn’t reach the house.

When the flames died and nothing remained but ash, Dexter turned to go back inside.

Then Selene spoke.

"I..."

She stopped herself.

Dexter, who was about to enter, paused. With his enhanced hearing, he had caught her speaking before she stopped herself.

He turned back toward her. "Do you need anything?"

Selene blinked. She remained silent for a while. The particular, internal, visibly conflicted silence of a woman who wanted to ask for something but didn’t want to impose.

Then she spoke.

"Was it your massage technique that healed Mira’s arm?"

Dexter blinked. Then he slowly nodded.

"Yes. It’s a massage technique—but not just the massage technique. The healing was due to many factors. The food I provide. The tea. The medicine. The massage. All of it, working together. But yes, the massage is one of the factors."

Selene nodded slowly. Then she opened her mouth to say something else.

Then closed it.

Dexter watched her. He knew how shy she was. Knew that she didn’t like to ask for things. Knew the particular, self-effacing, almost apologetic quality of a woman who had spent too long in the background and had never quite learned how to ask for what she wanted.

So he spoke first.

"If you want, I can try it on you."

Selene’s eyes widened slightly.

"Right now, since I’m not doing anything at the moment. It will only take ten to twenty minutes of your time."

Selene blinked. Her face flushed—the particular, pale, almost translucent blush of a woman whose complexion was so fair that any color at all stood out like a stain on white silk. It made her look, for a moment, almost human.

She slowly nodded. She didn’t look at him.

"Okay."

Dexter chuckled internally.

He turned and headed back into the house to prepare.

But first, Dexter needed to deal with the mess in the living room.

He started with the ashes—the particular, fine, grey-white residue of the body Mira had incinerated. The flames had burned so completely that nothing remained but a faint, almost invisible smudge on the carpet. He vacuumed it away, watching the particles disappear into the machine with the particular, clinical detachment of a man who had long since stopped being bothered by such things.

Then he addressed the wall.

The spiderweb of cracks where Kreg had slammed against it.

It took less than two minutes to clean the living room.

The wall would need to be repaired, of course. But he had materials left over from the window repair and he had purchased during the renovation. But he won’t fix it now.

Not when he had somewhere else to be.

His heartbeat had increased thinking about it but he tried to hide his excitement.

He was about to leave the living room when Mira spoke.

"Won’t you be in trouble?"

Dexter paused.

Mira’s voice was quiet.

"Since they’re dead," she continued, "there might be others who would look for them. It might cause trouble for you."

Dexter shrugged. "It doesn’t really matter."

Mira blinked at him.

"It can’t be big enough trouble," he said, "that we can’t handle when the time comes."

She looked at him for a moment. Then she nodded. "Okay."

Dexter smiled at her.

He was about to leave when he paused.

He looked down at Lyra.

She was still on the couch, cultivating.

Dexter smiled slightly.

He flipped his fingers. A pastry appeared on his left palm.He gently placed it on the couch beside Lyra.

when she woke, she would see it.

Dexter left.

---

He went to the room to prepare.

The bed was already made—the particular, clean, crisp, folded precision of sheets that had been smoothed to perfection. He placed the oils on the nightstand. The shockwave glove. The particular, soft, warm towels he had warmed in advance.

He arranged everything beside Selene bed, then waited.

Two minutes later, the door creaked.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly chilled.

Dexter raised his head.

The door creaked open, and a figure slowly entered. It was Selene. Her head was bowed. Her white hair—the particular, silver, almost luminous cascade of it—covered her entire face as she entered the room.

She moved with the particular, hesitant, almost reluctant grace of a woman who was not used to being seen. Not used to being the center of attention.

Dexter didn’t speak.

He simply waited.

Selin stepped fully into the room, and the door clicked shut behind her.

The silence stretched.

Then, slowly, she raised her head.

"Where do you want me?" she asked.

Her voice was quiet and shy as she spoke.

Dexter gestured to the bed. "Lie down. Face up. I’ll start with your shoulders."

Selene nodded as she slowly walked up to the bed.