Текст книги "Trammel "
Автор книги: Anah Crow
Соавторы: Dianne Fox
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Мистика
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
She seemed more nervous now than she’d been before, but Jonas’s tantrum might have had something to do with that. Dane had to bend so she could see his collar clearly, and she started whispering to it, sweet, soft words that Lindsay couldn’t quite make out.
In spite of his trip across the basement, as soon as Noah was back on his feet, he made his way over to Jonas and started to calm him down and coax him out. He had some kind of natural charm to him; maybe it was his looks, but Lindsay wasn’t sure those worked on Jonas. Whatever it was, it convinced Jonas to wriggle out from behind the freezer. That thought was so surreal, Lindsay felt like the entire universe had tilted in the last few days.
Zoey seemed to be getting somewhere with Dane’s collar. The LEDs that dotted the circumference of it were flickering to life, one at a time. Lindsay hoped that didn’t mean the thing was about to explode.
As the last few lights came on, Lindsay tensed, ready to...something. He didn’t know what.
Once the final light turned red, though, the whole thing simply went dark. It fell from Dane’s neck with a clatter. Gone. Just like that. Cyrus had been right about Zoey’s value. They were in this because of her, but Lindsay could almost convince himself that she had been worth it.
He rushed over, eager to make sure Dane was all right. He touched Dane’s throat where the collar had been and leaned up on his toes to brush a kiss over Dane’s lips. He hadn’t realized how much seeing that collar on Dane had hurt until now, for everything it was and for how helpless he had been to stop it.
“I’m fine.” Dane wrapped Lindsay up in his arms and held him so tight that Lindsay could barely breathe, nuzzling in his hair and the curve of his neck, the way he used to when he was making sure Lindsay was well—well and his. “Okay. Go on, help your boy with the dog.” He kissed Lindsay on the temple, and let him go.
Reluctantly, Lindsay stepped back. “We’ll be finished soon.”
If Zoey’s progress with Dane’s collar was any indication, the only real trouble with Jonas’s collar would be Jonas himself.
With one last look at Dane to make sure he was really and truly safe, Lindsay went to help Noah with Jonas. Jonas was still protesting the whole idea, but Noah had managed to capture both his hands and hang on to them. After his outburst, Jonas seemed significantly calmer.
“We won’t take it off,” Noah assured him. “Zoey is going to make sure no one can find us. You want to stay with us, yes?” Jonas nodded slowly. Lindsay could see the mental struggle going on behind his eyes.
“We’ll make sure no one can find you. If she finds you, she will take you away.”
“It stays on.” Jonas narrowed his eyes and glared at Lindsay, who was apparently to blame for any unhappiness. That was remarkably unfair, since Moore had only been able to collar Jonas because Noah had nearly destroyed him. Then again, fair had never been Jonas’s strong suit. “And I stay here.”
“That’s right.” Zoey seemed a little emboldened by Noah’s mastery of the situation. “You can keep it on. I can do that.”
“If she finds me,” Jonas said with painful lucidity, “she uses me. I told her not to use me. Now, I go in the cage. Make it be quiet so it doesn’t tell her where I am.” He sagged against the wall behind him, resigned to his fate.
“I will.” Zoey put her hands on the collar, watching Jonas warily. “I’ll ask nicely.” This time, it didn’t take long. A green light and a white light flashed, and went dark. The collar remained intact. “I got it,” she said, backing away slowly. “The tracking and data systems are all offline. I didn’t touch the rest. I think he would feel if I gave him back his magic. Maybe we should take care of the rest later?”
Lindsay hated the idea of someone being stuck in one of those things, but... “It’s up to Noah.”
Jonas trusted Noah, for whatever reason, and Noah had taken responsibility for him. Lindsay wouldn’t interfere with that.
“It’s not hurting him, and he’s docile. I’m not sure he knows why he wants it on, but I’m not going to betray him.” Noah straightened up and patted Jonas on the head. “I’m starting to believe he’s really this damaged. I don’t want to do anything that would encourage him to leave.” He looked down to where Jonas had a grip on his jeans. “Trust me. I’d love to get his brain in one piece.”
Lindsay nodded. He could accept that. “You can talk to him about it later, if you feel like it won’t scare him, but for now, it stays.” He turned to Zoey and touched her arm. “Thank you. You should get some rest, I know none of this has been easy for you.”
She glanced at Noah and Jonas, then back to Lindsay. “Thanks, yeah. I’m pretty wiped out.”
“I’ll send Ylli to look in on you later. If you need anything, let him know.” As Zoey headed up the stairs, Lindsay realized that Dane was gone, and he sighed. “It hasn’t been easy for any of us,” he murmured, turning back to Noah.
“He needs some time.” Noah gently detached Jonas from his leg and leaned over to talk to him. “Are you coming upstairs?”
Jonas shook his head vigorously. “No, I like downstairs.” He was obviously starting to make a real effort to talk like a normal human. “No one is looking down here.”
“Okay.” Noah crouched down to be at eye level with Jonas. “We’re taking a big chance, letting you stay here, because of everything you did before. If you’re lying, if you try to hurt anyone here, I will kill you. Clear?” His voice was calm and gentle, but the words and the intent were effective.
“Dane doesn’t get to kill me now.” Jonas nodded at Noah. “You do. That is over.”
“Fair enough. I’ll bring you food later.” Noah straightened up with a sigh. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said to Lindsay. “I’ll make you some tea.”
Lindsay headed up, checking over his shoulder to make sure Noah was following. “Are you all right?”
he asked as they reached the top of the stairs and walked into the kitchen.
“I will be.”
Noah pulled aside the neck of his T-shirt to show the bloody bandage that covered where the IV port had been. Back in the parking lot of the store where they’d stocked up, Kristan had cut the thing out and done a decent job of patching him up. Lindsay’s appreciation for her was well-established now.
“Apparently, my skin attracts scars,” he said dryly. “As for the rest... What can I do? If there had been any choice, we’d have done it differently. I’d like a drink, or ten or twenty, but I need to keep an eye on Jonas. He won’t be like this forever; he’s going to come around. I’d rather have him on our side when he does.”
The bandage was a sickening reminder that Lindsay had put Noah through hell. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to go through any of that. I know—” He swallowed hard, coming close so he could rest his hand on Noah’s chest, below the bandage. “I know what it’s like, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Noah cupped Lindsay’s face in his hands and pressed his lips to Lindsay’s. “Now that it’s over... At least we understand each other a little better, right? It can make things easier for you, if I felt it too.”
“I would rather have had to talk about it.” And Lindsay hated talking about it. He understood what Noah was saying, though, and that Noah forgave him. “But thank you.”
Lindsay leaned up on his toes and kissed Noah back, trying to show Noah how he felt—sorry, thankful, relieved, and more emotions he could hardly name.
“I told you it would be okay.” Noah pulled Lindsay in and stroked his hair, nuzzling against his cheek the way Lindsay often did to him. “It will be. You didn’t do it to me, they did.”
“Never again,” Lindsay promised. He turned his head and caught Noah’s lips in another kiss, slower this time. Noah was his, and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, not if there was anything he could do to stop it.
“I’ll do it if I have to.” Noah wound his fingers in Lindsay’s hair to tilt his head back a little, trailing kisses down his throat, the touch of his lips like fire on Lindsay’s skin. “Especially if I get to come home to you.”
“You can have that for as long as you want it.” Lindsay found the edge of Noah’s shirt with one hand and dragged it up to touch bare skin, hot and alive under his fingers. “You don’t have to... Not for that.”
“I should put the kettle on if you want some tea.” Noah stopped kissing Lindsay’s neck and pulled back to look at him. “Did you still want tea?” There was a little grin lurking around the corners of his mouth, but he did a decent job of feigning serious interest in the issue.
Lindsay couldn’t resist kissing that grin, letting the softness of Noah’s lips distract him from the urge to go find Dane that was burning in his gut. Dane deserved some time to himself, to cope with what had happened. He would come back when he was ready, and Lindsay would be here waiting for him.
He turned away and headed for the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “Tea, no. But I can think of some other things I might want...”
Noah laughed at him and followed, catching up on the stairs and giving him a swat on the backside. “I can’t wait to find out.” The next time, it wasn’t so much a swat as a grope.
“If I fall down the stairs, I’m making you carry me to bed,” Lindsay warned as he skipped ahead a few steps.
“That’d be embarrassing.” Noah managed to keep his hands to himself the rest of the way up the stairs, but not a moment longer. He caught Lindsay around the waist and pulled him back to kiss his neck.
“All that work getting in and out of military facilities and what trips you up is being too cute to resist.”
It wasn’t the compliments or the kisses that had Lindsay turning in Noah’s arms and kissing him fiercely, it was the reminder—again—of what Noah had done for him. He backed Noah up against the wall, hands on Noah’s hips skimming up under his shirt and in to find the fly of his jeans.
Noah yielded to him with a surprised little noise, then he was kissing Lindsay back just as fiercely.
The button yielded as easily as Noah had, and the zipper came down with a whine that seemed loud in the empty hallway. Lindsay slipped his hand inside and, fuck, Noah was hot. Hardening in his palm, and the way Noah sounded made Lindsay want to touch him more.
Noah’s head hit the wall behind him with a dull thud and he shifted to keep his balance. His first attempt at talking ended up in more kisses. The second time, he managed: “Tell me what you want.”
It took Lindsay a moment to realize Noah actually expected a response. Wasn’t it obvious what he wanted? Noah. He wanted Noah. The memory of how Noah had looked and felt when they’d had sex before washed Lindsay’s mind blank, and he had to start all over again with the realization that Noah expected him to answer.
“You.”
“Oh, okay.” Noah nodded, and grabbed the front of Lindsay’s shirt to pull him in for another kiss.
“You can have that,” he said between kisses.
Good. Very good. Lindsay remembered to start stroking again, bracing himself with his other palm flat against the wall behind Noah so he could lean up to keep kissing him.
“Oh, fuck.” Noah was quite clear about that. He tangled one hand in Lindsay’s hair and starting working Lindsay’s pants open with the other. Lindsay’s touch was a distraction from his task, the way his hips rocked into each stroke and the way he shivered every time.
Lindsay could help, though. He stopped kissing Noah and stood flat-footed, stripping open his jeans.
“Touch me.”
Noah said something, but Lindsay couldn’t make it out; it could have been yes, please. He pressed his hand flat against Lindsay’s belly and down. His palm sliding over the head of Lindsay’s cock was incredibly hot and Lindsay arched into it.
“Like that. Yes.” Lindsay couldn’t manage more than a word or two at a time. All he wanted was to keep touching, keep being touched, don’t stop.
“What the hell are you two doing?” The furious whisper came from down the hall, along with an angry rustle.
Ylli. Lindsay turned his head to see the muddy brown wings and angry glare. “What does it look like?”
“Well, I know...” Ylli began. “Other people live here too, who don’t want to see that. Like her.” He pointed back at the room he’d just left.
Noah didn’t seem perturbed; he was busy kissing and licking and nipping Lindsay’s neck.
“Her door’s closed,” Lindsay pointed out mildly. He nudged Noah away from the wall, though, and Noah backed up willingly. The door to the room they shared was only a few steps away. No more interruptions in there.
“Yes, but... Oh, forget it. You’d think the animals in the house would be the problem.” Ylli turned away with a flick of his wings and disappeared into the room he shared with Kristan.
Their room was as they had left it, clean and almost bare. The bed was made and the candles still lined the few flat surfaces available. As the door closed, some of the candles by the bed lit up, blowing little fire bubbles at first.
“Oops.” Noah kissed Lindsay and pulled him over to the bed at the same time. The candles settled down and behaved after that little hiccup, but it made Lindsay laugh, seeing how Noah felt coming through his magic.
As soon as Noah’s back hit the bed, Lindsay climbed over him, pushing Noah’s shirt up ahead of him so he could lick and kiss and nibble all that warm skin. He shifted his grip on Noah’s cock too, and kept stroking.
“Clothes off.” Noah arched as he peeled his shirt off. “Total waste of closing the door if you leave them on.” He threw his shirt into the shadows and started to get Lindsay’s undone.
“I thought closing the door was so Ylli wouldn’t come yell at us again.” Lindsay sat up, though, and helped Noah get him undressed. Shirt, and then he stood to kick off his shoes and slither out of his jeans and briefs. He tugged Noah’s jeans down past his hips. “Yours too.”
But, oh, that was too pretty to resist. He leaned over, distracted by the sight of Noah’s cock arcing up from his body, and licked it from base to tip.
“Lin...” Noah stopped pushing his jeans off and slumped on the bed, motionless other than the shivers that ran through him. So sweet. Lindsay mouthed at his bare balls and up the shaft of his cock, licking and nuzzling.
Noah tasted good, the heat of his skin almost overpowering anything else, and Lindsay moaned as he finally sucked him in.
It was just as well the door was closed; Noah wasn’t quiet. He grabbed handfuls of the covers like he was trying to keep still, twisting his hands in them. His noises eventually formed words, Lindsay’s name and pleas for more and how good Lindsay felt. That sounded amazing.
Lindsay lifted his head long enough to ask, “Where’s the oil?” before sucking Noah back into his mouth.
Noah barely managed to inhale and speak. “My pack.” His backpack, which had been brought up with other random things rescued from the van, was lying inside the door.
Giving a little grumble of annoyance to let Noah know exactly how he felt about having to stop, even for a moment, Lindsay pulled away. “Lose your jeans before I get back to the bed.”
He rolled up to his feet and went to get the blue bottle of oil Rajan had left them for Noah’s skin. It felt like every moment he had to wait was too much.
The jeans were gone by the time Lindsay turned around, and Noah had pulled the covers back.
Against the cheap white sheets, his skin looked burnished, darker than Dane’s. The gauze that covered the
wound on his chest was white on the edges only now, the center was dark red, like a poppy. They’d have to change the gauze soon.
Not now, though. “You look beautiful like that.”
Lindsay crawled back onto the bed, nuzzling at Noah’s cock as he twisted the top off the bottle.
“I like seeing you happy,” Noah said quietly. His voice was rough, like his throat was tight. He threaded his fingers through Lindsay’s hair over and over. “Sadness looks lovely on you, but you’re too good at it. I like you best like this. Blushy and tangled and alive. I want you to look like this more.
Always.”
Noah was right. Lindsay had been sad too much.
“You’re welcome to make that your new goal in life,” Lindsay said, chuckling softly and kneeling up to see Noah’s face. He slipped his fingers between Noah’s legs, petting behind his balls and farther back, not quite pushing in yet. “I’ll try to make it easy for you.”
Being with Noah like this was nothing like being with Dane. But both of them felt perfect. Made him feel perfect.
“I was already considering something like that.” Noah drew his knees up and planted his feet on the mattress, opening up for Lindsay so easily. He looked languid, almost sleepy, except that his eyes held that hot, orange glitter. “It’s good to love your life’s work.”
“I’m certainly enjoying how much effort you put into it.” Lindsay bent to flick his tongue over the head of Noah’s cock as he pushed one finger in, then two. Noah was incredibly tight, and every clench of his body made Lindsay want to push into him faster, deeper, now.
Noah whimpered. “Lindsay.” He opened himself up more with his hands behind his thighs. He was always so open, not just with his body. “Please. Don’t wait. I need you.”
“I’m right here.” Lindsay wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of hearing Noah like that. It was new, but already intoxicating. He got himself slick and crawled up over Noah, pushing in slowly, taking his time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed by the sensations.
“Fuck, yes.” The words slipped out on an exhalation as Noah’s head fell back and he closed his eyes.
He let Lindsay set the pace, surrendering now that he had what he needed.
“You feel amazing.” Lindsay got his mouth on Noah’s chest, staying away from the gauze but licking and nibbling everywhere else that he could reach. “Taste good too.”
Noah got his hands on Lindsay’s ass and pulled him in close with a groan. “I love sex,” he murmured in Lindsay’s ear.
Lindsay was beginning to get the idea; it fit with everything Noah was, heat and passion and ferocity.
He writhed, pushing in deeper, and nipped at the line of Noah’s jaw. “Show me,” he whispered, getting one hand on Noah’s cock. He was also beginning to understand why Dane liked it when he was vocal in bed.
“Let me hear you. I want to know how much you like it.”
The touches and the words seemed to leave Noah wordless for a moment, all he had for Lindsay were gasps and his pleasure-drunk expression. Then he leaned in to kiss Lindsay hard, winding his hand in Lindsay’s hair to hold him there for one hot, wet kiss after another. Shivers ran through him, making him tighter around Lindsay’s cock with wave after wave.
“Getting fucked by you is incredible,” he whispered against Lindsay’s lips. “You feel so good, Lin.
Knowing you’re in me, in any way, in my head, inside me...makes me feel safe. Real. I want it. You. Keep thinking about it. I want you to have me. Take me. Need to know you want me like this.”
“I do, Noah.” Lindsay had wanted him since that day at the school, when he’d known it was impossible, and that had only gotten stronger as Noah had healed and revealed the man he really was beneath the scars. He moved faster, harder, trying to show Noah how he felt with more than words.
Too soon, heat crept up from his belly and he had to struggle to keep control of himself, to keep from coming already. He wanted to hear Noah, didn’t want to lose a single word in the rush of his own pleasure.
Noah wrapped his legs around Lindsay’s hips and let go of Lindsay’s hair to grab the sheets instead.
When he came, he was still begging Lindsay for more, already babbling half-coherently about everything he wanted Lindsay to do to him and with him, tonight, tomorrow, and days after that.
Finally, Lindsay could let himself go. He let Noah’s words wash over him as he fucked Noah hard and fast, and came with a sharp cry. The force of it left him gasping and shivering, and he barely managed to keep from collapsing onto Noah as his hips moved instinctively, drawing more pleasure from his oversensitive flesh.
Noah held on to him, trying to get as close as he could. “That feels amazing,” he panted, pressing aimless, scattered kisses to Lindsay’s shoulder and neck. “Giving it up to you like that.”
Dipping his head to catch Noah’s mouth in a soft kiss, Lindsay admitted, “I want it to be like that all the time.” He wasn’t sure he had words for how it made him feel, but he’d experienced it with Dane too, that completeness.
“It will be.” Noah sounded like they were discussing gravity. “I’m yours.”
Lindsay loved that surety. He pulled out and Noah moved with him so that they changed places and Lindsay lay against his chest now, soaking up his warmth. Noah’s certainty reminded him of Dane, when Dane had first said Lindsay was his and couldn’t be taken away.
Dane. There was an empty place inside him aching for Dane to return. They’d gotten him out, but he still wasn’t back. Not yet.
All Lindsay could do was give him time. Meanwhile, he’d give Noah what Noah needed, and get a little of what he needed too. The warmth and contact were good, but the intimacy—knowing Noah had been inside his worst nightmares as much as he’d been inside Noah, that Noah knew him now—made being with Noah easy and comforting.
Anah Crow and Dianne Fox
Noah tucked them both in and curled up around Lindsay, cradling him in the crook of his arm and pressing gentle kisses to his hair. He was quiet for a while, but not asleep. He petted Lindsay’s hair and rubbed his back, the warmth of his hand easing away Lindsay’s aches and tension.
“He’ll be back soon,” Noah said at last, like he could hear Lindsay thinking. “He needs to be here, with you. This is his place. Try to sleep for now.”
Noah knew more about these things than Lindsay, and he wouldn’t let either of them lie there doing nothing if Dane needed their help to find his way home. That made it easier to relax, even if it hurt to do nothing. Lindsay kissed Noah’s chest, warm skin under his lips, and closed his eyes.
“Thank you for being here,” Lindsay whispered. “And for everything else.”
“This is where I should be.” Noah let his cheek rest against Lindsay’s hair and Lindsay felt as much as heard his sigh. “You have as much to do with it as I do.” The candlelight faded away into darkness.
Cyrus had chosen well, pairing Lindsay and Noah, for both of them. They fit together, better than Lindsay could have imagined. Lindsay owed the old mage a great deal; he had more reason than ever before to wipe Moore and her creations off the face of the earth.
Lindsay let Noah’s presence and the darkness soothe him into much-needed sleep. Noises from outside woke him again and again, but each time, Noah’s warmth let him drift off again.
If they’d taken Jonas’s collar off completely, Dane wouldn’t have been able to leave. As it was, he couldn’t make himself stay. This wasn’t his city, but he wanted to be out in it. The night was calling him; the scents and sounds would be enough to keep the beast in him from howling at the moon in grief.
Detroit smelled nothing like New York—less organic, more like dankness and iron. The cars were the same, the gunshots were the same, the raised voices were the same, but coming from different directions when he turned to face where the moon would be if the clouds would part. He breathed in and caught the faint taste of fresh water.
The empty wind blew sweeter, the closer he came to the water’s edge, then pushed the clouds apart to let the moon through. Every time it touched his face or tickled his ear, he turned into it, listening, before his rational mind could remind his instinct that there was no one there. Maybe if he’d stayed indoors, he would have had a little longer before he had to deal with it.
On a bridge, he stopped and leaned on the railing, staring down into the black water. It felt like he was still missing his magic, like he’d been shot through the chest and it wouldn’t heal.
He couldn’t waste time feeling like this. Cyrus would tell him to stop playing at being human, tell him that he didn’t have the luxury of regret. He’d done too much wrong to afford it.
He pushed away from the rail and kept going to lose himself in the soft, domesticated forest of an island that was a physical manifestation of relief from the grinding jaw of the city. His bare feet took him
Trammel
down toward the water. He had no idea where his shoes had gone, only hoped he’d had the intelligence to take them off before he left the house.
The lake, striated with moonlight and shadows, washed up against a narrow stripe of beach. The wind was full in his face and he made himself breathe.
Get used to it. It’s not going to change. He’d come back from death, but it was too late for Cyrus.
He’d seen the dead raised after the fact—it didn’t make them less dead. Cyrus would slap him for it anyway.
At first he thought he was hearing an owl in the trees, but the wings came closer and he could hear the serrated edge of them biting through the air, eating up distance. His mind argued with itself about what could or couldn’t be coming his way. A shadow blocked out the stars and the moon, wheeling about overhead and erasing all the answers but one.
Dane sat on a stone and waited. When the wings fell silent, he heard the faint sound of bare feet and the hem of a robe on the sand.
Ezqel. Dane waited for whatever it was the old fae mage had come to say, even if he didn’t want to hear it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Cyrus knew what he was doing.” Dane tried to keep his tone flat, but the clench of his throat betrayed him. He hadn’t expected Ezqel to give a damn one way or the other.
“Not for that. For the other. For what was done to you.”
That was even less expected. Dane stared out at the water, waiting for it to turn to blood, or for the moon to fall into it with a small plink. Neither came to pass, but everything was echoingly silent, as though the entire world had stopped what it was doing to watch. Ezqel sat beside him, not looking at him, long white hands folded in his lap.
“You were right to leave me,” Ezqel went on. “It was not my place to discipline you for doing what needed to be done, no matter what promises you broke. Cyrus was right to call you home.”
“How do you know?” Dane didn’t want an apology just because something had pricked the dried flesh of Ezqel’s heart. Ezqel had cursed him without conscience for leaving his place as Ezqel’s apprentice.
Ezqel was ill-accustomed to being refused, then and now. Only Dane’s magic had saved him from the full force of Ezqel’s wrath—half a lifetime crippled had been a light sentence for rejecting one of the fae.
“Everything is as it should be,” Ezqel said simply. Dane saw more than heard the shrug of one shoulder. “It would not have been, otherwise.”
That hurt Dane more than when Lindsay had told him Cyrus was dead. Cyrus dying was the most wrong thing Dane could imagine. Even losing Lindsay, he could understand, but his mind had no way to bend that would allow it to understand losing Cyrus.
“You came all the way from Germany to tell me that?” Dane made his hands unclench before the blood from his claws cutting through his palms stained his clothes. He got up and went down to wash his hands in the lake. He could imagine Ezqel taking the time to come and hurt him this much.
“I thought being wrong was a momentous enough occasion to warrant the trip.” Ezqel’s words should have been light with the eternal indifference of the fae, but they sounded as tired and old as Dane felt. “I owed you an apology, anyway, and you know how I feel about debts.”
“If you wanted to say you were sorry, you should have come here a few weeks ago.” Dane dried his healed palms on his thighs and turned to face Ezqel. “That would have been useful.”
“I wasn’t sorry then.” By the light of the moon, Ezqel looked like he was made of white marble, his hair and robes painted on with blood.
“Are you sure you weren’t?” Dane had always wanted to know, and he’d take his restitution in answers. Ezqel’s glare was defiant, then he looked away.
“No.”
“At least one of us was sorry for it.” All those years under a curse, all for putting Cyrus first—that had been nothing. Dane would do it all again, without hesitation. It didn’t come close to the rest of his life without Cyrus. Dane had to shake his hair back as the empty wind pulled it across his face. “Was there anything else?”
“Only that.” Ezqel stood and straightened his robes. Dane was still getting used to being eye-to-eye with him, after the decades he’d been bent and deformed, trapped between beast and man. “And I brought you this.”
Dane knew what it was before Ezqel held it out. “I don’t want it.”
“It is yours. And you belong to no one now.” This close, Ezqel’s eyes were like emeralds, hot and glossy green. Yzumrud, the ring he offered, held a stone shot with that same green, and the red of his hair.
The right words would unleash a spear of power from its core. This wasn’t the first time Ezqel had forced it on him. Dane had tried to refuse it, but in Mexico he had needed it to save Lindsay’s life. “You betray no one by taking it.”
Only myself. Dane’s pride had done damage he couldn’t begin to fathom. Again, he took the ring from Ezqel’s cool fingers and tucked it away in his pocket. He could throw it away. Give it away. Once he knew he wouldn’t need it again.
“I have to get back to the boys,” he said, instead of anything else he wanted to say. None of it was good, none of it would help, and much of it wasn’t even true. But it was habit to hurt something instead of hurting.
“To...” Ezqel raised an eyebrow. “I was given to understand that the fire starter had met a sticky end.”
“The Quinns are fucking cockroaches.” Dane stepped around Ezqel and started walking back toward the path, one tired step at a time. Yzumrud bit into his thigh with each step and the wind shoved the clouds over the moon, making everything grim again.
“Said the devil himself.” Ezqel’s voice trailed after him. Dane turned back to see Ezqel looking over his shoulder.
“You’re one to talk about devils,” Dane said dryly. Perversely, he felt better now, like he could breathe again.
“For all my sins, how could I be anything else?” When moonlight slid through a rent in the clouds, Ezqel shone with a red halo. It could have been a trick of Dane’s eyes, but he was sure the bastard was smiling. “Tell the little one that Taniel and Izia send their regards.”