Текст книги "Trammel "

Автор книги: Anah Crow

Соавторы: Dianne Fox
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Something jabbed him in the lower back; the pain was shocking for such a tiny point of entry. Real pain. Something else, something smaller, sank into his flesh until it hit bone and began to grind through.

Sweat ran down his face and he could smell his own fear. The point of pain punctured the bone, and he heard them murmuring about extractions. They were sucking out his marrow.

Marrow. The soul, said the fae, was anchored in the bones. There was something humans did, where they put marrow from one into another. Dane’s newly healed body was slowly succumbing to the injection; he couldn’t remember what was happening to him or why it mattered. His focus faded. From where he lay, he could only see his uneaten breakfast.

Don’t take it away. I’m hungry . He remembered starving. Things became confused and he thought that time was now. My food. Don’t take it. Something was eating him. He was down to survival instinct, awake only because he was sure he would die if he didn’t protect his food.

“Don’t worry, Dane.” A woman’s voice soothed him. “We’ll be done soon.”

Done with what? Done with me? The dark didn’t answer any of his questions.

When Noah woke, it was light in the room. He’d slept the rest of the night, and the aches and pains he felt were only from good things. For the first time in months, morning finally felt like something new.

Lindsay was gone but Noah knew he couldn’t be far, and the empty bed meant he could stretch luxuriously.

Rolling over, Noah discovered that Lindsay hadn’t gone far at all. He was curled up in the chair across the room, smiling at Noah’s antics. Everything dreadful about last night came back in a wash of awareness, but Noah tried to put it in its place so he could keep the mood positive.

“Want me to do that again?” He sat up and grinned at Lindsay.

Lindsay laughed and looked Noah over, toes to head. “Only if you push the covers off the rest of the way.”

Noah sat up and the covers moving triggered an agonizing itch on his right shin. Getting naked was supposed to be for Lindsay’s benefit, but he ended up shoving the covers off to scratch. The minute he did, he was itchy everywhere.

“This is wrong.” He scratched at his elbow next and gave Lindsay a narrow look. “Are you giving me a hard time?” None of his siblings would have hesitated, that was certain.

Lindsay’s eyes went wide. “Me?” There was a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth, but then he laughed. “No. Rajan said your skin would need oiling on a regular basis. Here, let me.”

Lindsay stood and crossed the room to pick up the blue bottle on the table near the bed.

“Oh, I’m sure you have no reason at all to make me itchy.” Noah stuck his tongue out.

“Careful, you’ll make me think you don’t want me getting my hands all over you.” For all his teasing, Lindsay managed to rub the oil in quickly and efficiently, starting at Noah’s feet and working his way up.

“Feel free not to think that.” Noah tried to pretend it didn’t feel good, but it did, it was almost like sex the way it quelled the itch and made his freshly healed nerves sing. It would have felt good on any day, to have Lindsay’s hands on him. His body was very happy about it, and Noah gave up on telling his dick to shut up about it by the time Lindsay was at his knees. He was outnumbered.

“I take it the oil is helping,” Lindsay said as he rubbed oil into Noah’s thighs and hips. His gaze flicked from Noah’s hardening cock to his face. “Or do you have a kink I ought to know about?”

“Yes, and quite possibly,” Noah answered, trying to cover all his bases.

It was mostly Lindsay’s fault, really. If one didn’t know what the fae were, one might say Lindsay looked like one. But to Noah, Lindsay looked like pure class on top of being gorgeous. Unwashed and worn down, he still seemed more elegant than most people did clean. Elegant was about the sharp bones and that skin that was nearly luminous and those wide eyes with the brightness of intelligence in them.

Lindsay’s hands stilled on Noah’s belly and his head tilted. “Oh?”

He started massaging again, working the oil into Noah’s tender skin, but it was obvious that Lindsay expected Noah to elaborate. If only Noah could remember what he’d been saying. He backtracked in his head, and laughed.

“I’m a bad person to ask about kinks. I just...it’s all pretty good.” If he had to think about sex right now, Noah was never going to be functional this morning. “If everybody’s happy, then it’s good.”

If he thought about what he used to like too much, anyway, he’d make himself melancholy. Before he’d ruined himself, before his magic had come to plague him, his body had felt like his home. Sex was magic of its own, something to share, to connect the lonely. He’d loved it and he’d been good at it—

sharing had always made him happy.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Lindsay’s slick fingers trailed over Noah’s cock, but he moved away to work on Noah’s neck and arms instead. “Roll over.”

“You’re a bad man.” Noah obeyed, sprawling out as far as he could. They had to get something done today, anything. Now wasn’t the time for playing or resting, as much as he wanted to soak in the sensations of being nearly whole again.

“I actually thought I was rather good,” Lindsay countered. He quickly finished Noah’s back, but lingered over his ass longer than was strictly necessary. “But you’ll have to confirm that some other time.

Kristan will be back soon.”

“And I won’t get to lie around and play rent boy all day.”

That was a rather sad thought, and Noah would have felt very differently about it a few days ago.

Whether it was the experience they’d gone through together or the magic Lindsay had used to save him, Noah felt like some wall in him had crumbled. He felt twenty-five again, not eighty-five—still sorrowful, but not afflicted by it. He could move forward without losing his past.

“Do you know what we need to do now?” Noah tried to focus on the practical, instead of on Lindsay’s strong, slim fingers sliding over his ass; his newly healthy body was obsessed with how good Lindsay could make him feel. “Other than bathe and find me something to wear?”

“I would love to bathe.” Lindsay made it sound like an orgasmic experience, the emphasis he put on the word. “No running water. We’ll have to find a truck stop or something. Kristan is going to pick up some clothes for you while she’s out, though.”

Lindsay patted Noah’s ass, letting him know he was finished. Noah couldn’t help but stretch all over again. Being free from pain was incredible, and now that the itching was gone, he felt relaxed and content enough that he was ready to go back to bed. However, he made himself sit up.

“Thanks.” He gave Lindsay a grin. “Hope you enjoyed that a little, at least.”

“I’d have enjoyed it more if we had time to finish what I wanted to be starting,” Lindsay shot back.

“Anyway, I know we need to find Ylli and Zoey, but I don’t know how. Cyrus is gone, so we can’t use the wind, and without some idea of where to look, I can’t use an illusion to pick them out of the masses. I’m not that good.”

Noah grabbed a sheet to wrap around his waist and got up to test his legs. Cyrus hadn’t foreseen them being separated and left alone? Noah couldn’t quite believe that. The way things had fallen out, everything that happened had been perfectly predictable—unfortunate and horrendous, but predictable. He paced over to the window and looked out, wracking his memory for an answer.

“Cyrus would have left some clues, just in case. I can’t see him letting all these years of work fall away. Cyrus was in this war that only he could see—in it to his ears—when my dad was my age.” Noah leaned on the sill, looking down into the narrow yard and dirty alley. “He was old, but...he was still with it, right?”

“Yes.” Lindsay stood near the window, staring out past Noah. “He was always very aware of everything going on around him. I knew he was old, but I never would’ve thought he was... Well.”

“We don’t do senile very well,” Noah said, dryly. “Please remember that when I get old.” He put his arm around Lindsay’s shoulders and gave him a little squeeze.

“Let’s worry about that when you’re actually old enough for it to matter.” Lindsay leaned into the embrace. “So. Any idea what not-senile Cyrus might’ve had in mind?”

Ironically, touching Lindsay made it easier to think. The bone-deep loneliness of separation from the people he loved had made Noah stupid with emptiness. Having his arms around Lindsay and his cheek on Lindsay’s hair calmed everything in him and let his mind work.

“You’ve done everything you can,” he said, sorting through their meager resources. “Kristan’s doing everything she can. There’s only me left.” Cyrus must have believed that no matter how they ended up separated, they’d have the means to reconnect. All Noah had to offer that the others didn’t was the old ways.

“I need a library, some office supplies, and a day and a night to work. Also, some odds and ends from a thrift store.” You could never go far wrong with a silver bowl, an iron needle, a sharp piece of flint and a mirror.

“I think we can manage that.” Lindsay nodded slowly. “I saw a library on my way to Rajan’s office.”

“As soon as I have something to wear, I’ll go.” Noah pressed a kiss to Lindsay’s hair.

“If there’s a Y or a gym around here, I expect you can shower while I’m gone,” he added. The fact that Lindsay had the same dirty little dog smell that Noah remembered from sharing a room with his brothers didn’t bother him at all. It was the undertone of smoke—imagined or not—that made him vaguely queasy. More than vaguely when he inevitably remembered what had been burning.

The front door rattled and banged open, followed by a bellow. “If you two are doing it, I’m joining you whether you like it or not. Otherwise, someone get down here and help me with these goddamn bags.”

Lindsay laughed as he stepped away from Noah and took his hand. “Come on, before she does anything untoward.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to prevent that.” In spite of the horrendous start they’d had, Noah couldn’t help liking Kristan. She’d screwed up, yes, but so had he. And when she could have bailed on everything, she’d stayed. “But we should try.”

Humming his agreement, Lindsay turned and led Noah, sheet and all, downstairs to join Kristan. “You got what you needed?”

“And it wasn’t as much fun as you’d think.” She was headed for the kitchen but she’d left a heap of bags in the front hall, random shopping bags that looked crumpled but stuffed with clothes, a duffel bag and a backpack. “Women who like shopping need a kick in the head.”

“Did you get beer?” Noah couldn’t help himself.

There was a long pause, then Kristan poked her head out of the kitchen. “If you’re not joking, Lindsay should leave now to get Rajan back—if he ever wants to see your dick again. Fuck you, beer. It’s heavy. I bought scotch.” She disappeared and the banging from the kitchen sounded like someone making a sandwich—loudly.

Lindsay shook his head and went to dig through the bags. Noah could see the apprehension in him.

When he came over to help sort Kristan’s haul, he ran his hand down Lindsay’s back to try to ease his discomfort.

The backpack held the heavier items. Bottles in paper bags, and below that, angular metal things, also in paper bags. Guns and booze. Something for everyone. His family used hunting rifles and he’d once carried a handgun, in that other life. He wouldn’t carry one now, not unless Lindsay requested it.

“You’re an only child, I take it?” Lindsay’s discomfort was still palpable.

“Yes.” Lindsay said it flatly. He pulled out a pair of jeans, glanced at the size, and held them out. “I think these are for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Noah could tell when he’d screwed up. Damn it, he knew that anything before Lindsay came to Cyrus was off-limits. He put the bag down and tugged the jeans on.

“For what?”

“If my question was out of line.” Noah kept his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch. “And I’ll try not to pull Kristan’s hair anymore.”

“It’s. Just.” Lindsay’s shoulders drew up and one of his hands strayed to curl around his other wrist.

He seemed to catch himself doing it, though, and waved his hand dismissively instead. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it. That’s all.”

“This is me, not talking. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll heat you some water. I’ll bring it up and you can wash before you dress.”

Lindsay looked at the cases of bottled water in the corner, then fished a bar of soap out of one of the bags. “Please. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be warm.”

“You’ll turn blue. Go on.” He pointed Lindsay toward the stairs. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

“You’ll want to look nice,” Kristan said, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle of chocolate milk and a sandwich. “Patches wants to borrow you today.”

Lindsay was halfway to the stairs, but he stopped and turned back. “Do you know what she wants?”

“Who?” It wasn’t any of his damn business, but Noah couldn’t help it.

“She helped me find Rajan.” Lindsay didn’t seem concerned, but he was still looking at Kristan, waiting for her to answer him.

“Something about a kid who got jammed up.” Kristan shrugged. “Should be a walk in the park for you.”

If Noah had hair, he’d have pulled it out. Breaking someone out of jail did not sound like a promising side trip. But it was Lindsay’s business and he could well imagine that the return expected for bringing him back from the near-dead was going to be high.

“I’ll get you something to eat and that hot water in a few minutes,” he said, stepping over the bags in the hall. “And I’ll sort this out.” It was better not to leave debts lying behind them, and they’d need to leave soon.

In the kitchen, Noah found an old pot on the back of the counter that looked fairly clean and dumped a few bottles of water into it, and a few more. He’d use what was left to wash anything they wanted to take with them. He stared at the pot for a long moment, trying not to eavesdrop on Lindsay and Kristan.

You’re putting a fire in water. What’s going to go wrong?

There were an infinite number of answers to that question. Noah dropped a pinch of fire into the water and urged it to grow until it was the size of his fist. Behave. He turned his back on it and started making Lindsay’s breakfast. The cheerful fire burbled and chirped as it rolled in the water; it didn’t remember what it had done to him.

The ingredients for the sandwiches were what Noah remembered from when he was a kid—bread, bologna, cheese. He couldn’t see Lindsay drinking chocolate milk, but that was what there was, that or cola. He ended up juggling everything, the pot lid upside down on the pot and all the rest stacked on top of that.

“Lindsay?” He paused at the threshold to the room they’d shared last night.

The door swung open and Lindsay stepped aside to let him in. “Thank you. If I’d realized you’d be carrying all that, I would’ve stayed downstairs to help.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

It was Noah’s place to do this kind of thing; there was a benefit to it to him as well, the focus on the mundane that let raw, unsettled magic rest while the mind learned to be disciplined. Noah had grown up with all the concepts that made it possible to master magic, but he was in the minority, and he didn’t mind keeping with tradition. He put breakfast on the peeling bedside table and set the pot on the floor.

“It’s pretty hot,” he warned. “Do you need anything else right now?”

“I don’t think so.” Lindsay shook his head, and pulled his shirt off, dropping it on the floor. The light streaming through the window let Noah see what he couldn’t last night—skin pale enough that Noah almost expected to be able to see right through it, a fine dusting of silver-blond hair, and scars that ringed his neck and each of his wrists.

It didn’t take Noah long to put the pieces together—they fell into place in his head with a thud that echoed guiltily in his stomach. He didn’t have specifics, but it was hard to forget Lindsay vomiting at the sight of the barre. It was a shameful thing to have to wear, but Lindsay’s reaction had shocked him. Now, he was even more ashamed and angry that Cyrus had let him do something so disrespectful to the person who was meant to mentor him.

“I’m sorry.” Under Noah’s shame, seeing that vulnerability fueled a heat in his belly that flared with the memories of last night. Right now, though, his cheeks were even hotter and he could feel a flush creep down his throat. “I never would have... I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”

Lindsay looked up slowly, his expression frozen between a sort of suspicious caution and the flatness that came with trying to hide everything else.

“You didn’t know.”

His hands went to his fly, and he shed his jeans with a few quick jerks. Kneeling beside the pot of water, he turned his attention to unwrapping his bar of soap and toothbrush.

“The Shackles of Tehut—whatever those were—the last set, or so I’m told.” He didn’t look up. “I broke them with my magic. It killed a lot of people. I killed a lot of people. But I got away from Moore.”

Noah would wrack his memory for the specifics later, but only a few cultures and artifact makers had stooped to harnessing mages against their will. The barre—he could have broken it off of his wrist with a little effort and perhaps a hacksaw, but he’d had no interest in either damaging a family heirloom or burning Cyrus’s house down. He gave himself a shake and stepped over to grab the cloth Lindsay was about to take.

“Let me? Please?”

What Lindsay had suffered and what he’d done—Noah knew it would be hard for Lindsay to understand what that meant without the history and culture that Noah had absorbed as he grew up. All he could do was show Lindsay what it meant by how he behaved. He held out his hands.

Lindsay looked at them for a long moment, then nodded. He put his hands in Noah’s and let Noah help him up to sitting on the bed. Handing over the soap, he said, “You’ll want this.”

“Thank you.” Noah knew his warm hands would be welcome, as well as the warm water. He started with Lindsay’s feet. “I can tell that you’d prefer not to talk about those things, but you should know that in other places, you’d have no lack of people willing to do this. Anything, really. And you’d have better students than me.” He gave Lindsay a smile, when what he wanted to give Lindsay was kisses. “Even if you don’t realize it, I don’t forget. I won’t.”

“I don’t see why.” Lindsay looked down at his hands. At his wrists. “What I do isn’t...” He shook his head, letting the words trail off.

Noah took one of Lindsay’s hands, kissing the palm. “Do you trust me?”

Lindsay’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes.”

Noah finished washing Lindsay’s other hand, and kissed it as well. “So trust me about this. Without hyperbole, you’re amazing. Remarkable. No one I know would be anything less than giddy with pride if you were their son. What you did to save yourself is the kind of thing children hear stories about. It’s another world, and it would welcome you.”

Lindsay was quiet, but he didn’t argue. The world Noah described and the one Lindsay lived in were at right angles to one another; Lindsay simply didn’t have the context for understanding why he would be valued that way. That hurt intensely, that Lindsay was so deprived of knowing himself.

Noah knelt up and gave in to the need to express himself in some way that would be understood, offering Lindsay a soft kiss on the lips. At least, his logical self noted dryly, his advances wouldn’t be mistaken for some kind of infatuation or hero-worship.

That earned him a tiny smile curling the corner of Lindsay’s mouth, and a kiss in return. “Give me a chance to brush my teeth and I’ll do that for real,” he teased.

“Any time.” Noah tamped down the little imp in him that said Lindsay would understand him better if Noah put his thoughts into actions in some satisfyingly sexual way. “When the water’s not getting cold.”

He picked up the soap again and wet the cloth. “If you don’t mind, that is.” He went back to cleaning off Lindsay’s legs. It wasn’t any hardship to touch all that smooth whiteness.

“I don’t mind.” Lindsay held his legs out one at a time, making it easier for Noah to get at them.

Hesitantly, he asked, “Would it help if I stood?”

“Yes.” The word was out of Noah’s mouth before he could work out exactly how it would help. After the fact, he reasoned that he could wash Lindsay’s upper body and work his way back down. That would be helpful. He pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand.

Lindsay slipped his hand into Noah’s and got up, stepping away from the bed and closer to the pot.

“Better?”

“Yes.” Noah kissed Lindsay’s shoulder chastely. He put the cloth down and gently turned Lindsay around. “May I?” he asked, touching Lindsay’s hair before gathering it back. He didn’t want to bare Lindsay’s scars any further without permission.

Lindsay nodded, his hair shifting limply under Noah’s hand. Noah ran his fingers through the fine strands and braided them into a silky rope, which he left draped over Lindsay’s shoulder while he went to work. He washed Lindsay from nape to hips, scrubbing away sweat and grime as he turned Lindsay’s skin rosy. The curves of Lindsay’s ass were a reward in and of themselves, though the fact that Noah was now dressed was a trial of sorts. Still, he soldiered on.

“Turn?” Noah rinsed out the cloth while Lindsay did, leaving it and picking up a fresh one to wash Lindsay’s face. That was purely indulgent of him, getting to wash Lindsay’s fine features and admire them all at the same time. He was careful around the scars on Lindsay’s throat and when he washed down Lindsay’s arms to his wrists.

Finally, Noah got to wash the smooth, flat planes of Lindsay’s chest and belly. As he got lower, he dropped to kneeling so he could reach Lindsay’s hips and thighs. He washed and explored Lindsay’s cock and balls with careful hands.

After only a moment or two of Noah’s gentle ministrations, Lindsay made a noise like a strangled moan, but he didn’t step back. “I’m sure that’s clean now,” he said, sounding raspy. “But if you keep that up, it probably won’t be for long.”

“I clean up after myself.” Noah kissed the feathery, barely there line of silver hair below Lindsay’s navel. One kiss, then two, then three. His tongue convinced him to put each kiss lower than the last, and Lindsay’s soft sounds encouraged him to keep going.

Lindsay was beautiful all over. Noah slid his hands up the backs of Lindsay’s thighs as he coaxed Lindsay’s cock to delicious hardness that made him shiver with every lick and kiss. Being allowed to do this in the light of day was more than he’d expected any time soon.

Lindsay brushed his hand over the stubble of Noah’s hair and cupped the back of his head, still petting with the slow flex of his fingers. “I like that.”

The gentle praise was also permission to keep going. Noah hadn’t done this in a long time, but he hadn’t forgotten how, and it was even better to do it for someone he cared about. He stopped playing and took Lindsay’s cock in, letting it push past his lips. The friction made him shiver. They didn’t have much time, and he went down on Lindsay hungrily, using everything he remembered to make Lindsay feel good.

“Noah.” Lindsay’s voice was only a whisper, but his raw need came through loud and clear. His muscles tensed under Noah’s hands, flexing in time with the rhythm Noah had set. It wasn’t long before precome was spilling over Noah’s tongue and Lindsay was making soft, whimpering sounds, his hand falling away from Noah’s head.

Noah opened his eyes, leaving the dark, safe place where he’d lost himself to anything but the sensations of Lindsay’s body on his. He drew Lindsay in deep, his hands tight on Lindsay’s ass, and swallowed, moaning softly. Lindsay’s orgasm was a rush of cool slickness and sharp cries, and even as Lindsay’s shudders slowed, he didn’t pull away.

“Good,” Lindsay murmured, touching Noah’s cheek with cool, gentle fingers. “That was so good.”

As promised, Noah cleaned up after himself, and enjoyed every last lick. As turned on as he was, he felt sated at the same time, like more would be overindulgence. He didn’t want it to be about him right now. What he’d needed—for more than his body—Lindsay had given him last night.

He pushed to his feet and let himself kiss Lindsay’s cheek, stroking the other with his fingertips.

Lindsay turned into it, rubbing his cheek against Noah’s like a cat.

His hands slid from Noah’s hips to the fly of his jeans and Noah stopped him with a touch as Kristan shouted, “Hey, you coming?”

“I already did,” Lindsay murmured, laughing quietly as he took a step back from Noah. Louder, he called, “Just getting clean clothes on. Be right down.”

“Are you...?” Noah stopped himself from prodding about what Lindsay was doing. Not only was it not his business—in the very strictest sense of things—but he wanted to make sure Lindsay didn’t fall into deferring to him.

“Be careful,” he said, instead, letting go of Lindsay’s hands. As long as the two of them weren’t going up against anything but humans, they’d be fine.

“I will.” Lindsay grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste from the floor. At the door, he stopped and turned back. “You be careful too, if you’re heading out to the library. There’s a bus stop not far from here that should get you where you need to go.”

“I’m used to strange cities, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back here by full dark, I hope, but if I’m late, go on to bed.” Noah gathered up the washing things, but left the food so Lindsay could at least take it with him. “If I’m right, we’ll know where we’re going by tomorrow morning.”

Lindsay looked translucent in the morning light with his skin clean and damp, and it was hard for Noah to convince himself that Lindsay would be fine on his own. Hard, except for the scars that reminded him Lindsay was more capable than he was of surviving. He made himself leave to take the dirty water downstairs.

Kristan had left money on the counter. Noah shoved it into a pocket and got to feeding himself. By the time he was eating, Lindsay and Kristan were headed out the door.

“There’s a diner called Apollo 11,” Kristan said, poking her head into the kitchen. “If you can’t find us again, go there. Patches will owe you if we run into trouble.”

“I won’t forget,” Noah promised.

That much, Noah could make sense of, and it made him feel better to know that someone would owe him enough to get him back across the border if anything went wrong. Back long enough to collect Rose and the others and come fix it, and screw old men and their ideas of territories.

The front door banged shut and Noah was alone. He didn’t have a watch, but he guessed that he had time to clean the house—yes, it was falling down, but it was their house right now and he was the one to clean it—and be at the library when it opened. He’d wandered enough cities after leaving home that he wasn’t worried about negotiating this one. Stuffing the last of a sandwich in his mouth, he picked up Lindsay’s bathwater and put it in the sink. Dishes first, then the rest. Everything done in the right order would get them where they needed to go.

Chapter Eleven

Lindsay shifted his grip on the gun in his hand and glanced at Kristan. “Like this?”

When he could push past the ache of loss, Dane’s absence provided Lindsay with even more reason to learn to use a gun. Dane had been—and would be again, he promised himself—the protector in their little family. But now, even with Noah by his side, Lindsay had to learn to take care of himself.

If he couldn’t do it with his magic—and Lourdes had proven he couldn’t always rely on his magic for protection and defense—then he’d have to do it by mundane means.

Kristan nodded, and he used his thumb to flick off the safety. He could do this. Just because his last few shots wouldn’t have hit the broad side of a barn—much less the empty beer can Kristan had propped up on the fence—didn’t mean this time he would miss too.

Well, maybe.

Lindsay squeezed the trigger, tensing in anticipation of the recoil, and nearly yelped when the can fell off the fence. Holy shit. He’d done it.

They were behind an abandoned house in a neighborhood where, Kristan assured him, gunshots would not draw unwanted attention. Lindsay didn’t want to think about what that meant for the people who lived here, but since no sirens answered his shots, he was grateful.

Carefully putting the gun down in front of him, Lindsay turned to Kristan. “I have no idea if I’ll ever be able to pull that off again,” he said, answering her wide smile. He knew he was flushed with success, he felt it on his skin and in the straightness of his spine. More than that, there was the glow of confidence Noah’s tender attention and sincere respect had sparked in him this morning. He had no idea how Noah did it, but it felt good.

“Sure.” Kristan pushed herself up off the broken steps where she’d been sitting while he practiced.

“You’re the golden boy, you’ll pull it off. No surprise you have to be good at everything. And at least you won’t shoot yourself in the foot now. But we should blow. Patches is waiting for us.”

Lindsay rolled his eyes and turned back to take care of the gun. Once it was safely stored in the bag, he carried it to Kristan. “Yes, none of us need that. We’ve had enough visits with healers already this month, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I could do without seeing another for a while. I’m staying away from anything flammable.”

Kristan shouldered her backpack—the way it pulled her shoulders back made her curves seem so outrageous that she should have been a comic-book heroine—and ran a hand through her cropped curls.

“Sparky’s luck with women is shit. At least he’s okay now. I’d like to punch that bitch in the...” She trailed off and spit in the dirt at her feet. “Let’s go.”

Lindsay was surprised to hear that Kristan felt the same way he did—or maybe he wasn’t. Kristan hadn’t shied away from giving every bit of help needed to put Noah back together. Lindsay had obviously misjudged her. Worse, he’d known he was doing it—letting himself be distracted by his own jealousy over Dane.