Текст книги "Trammel "

Автор книги: Anah Crow

Соавторы: Dianne Fox
сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Dane summoned up all his strength for a dash down the last hundred yards of the boardwalk. The wind lifted him and slammed him to the ground, into a streak of rifle fire. He scrabbled onto all fours, spreading his wings. The helicopter was already rising. He could see Moore through the open door, and the other woman next to her. A wave of the dark-haired woman’s hand and lightning ripped down again.

There was nothing he could do, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. As Moore escaped, the Hounds turned on him, some with guns and some with blades. There had to be at least thirty of them, and many human soldiers as well. He had survived worse. Pursuing him kept them from turning on Cyrus.

The rain came down like a wall of wet night and the Hounds hunted him, their bullets tearing into him faster than he could heal. Dane charged the nearest cluster, determined to keep them busy for as long as possible. And then something else came. Dane heard a sickening thud like a bomb going off, and the darkness was washed away in a flood of eerie red light.

The Hounds turned from him and began to howl. Dane dropped the one he was killing to face the new threat. A breaker of fire swept down the boardwalk, consuming everything in its path. There was nothing he could do but run like a terrified cat. As he cleared the far side of the helipad, the burning wave broke over the boardwalk. The howling reached a crescendo, and was gone.

When Dane turned, everything stood as it had been. The rain pounded down, a natural rain now, and washed away the smoke. He let the form of the beast slide away before Lindsay’s illusion disappeared, but he kept the core of it in him so that he could follow his nose back to his people.

He found Noah waiting for him, pointing him toward the van and the car. Lindsay was probably in the back of the car, with Kristan in the driver’s seat. The van door was open, waiting for him. He couldn’t make the words to thank Noah for his intervention. He limped to the van, trying to make sense of what had happened to them.

In the passenger seat of the van, Cyrus was pale and still, his breath coming slowly.

“I called Negasi. He’ll meet us at the house,” Ylli offered from the backseat. He was almost as white as Cyrus, a bedraggled and terrified little bird. “I don’t know what happened. He said some other mage took the wind from him.”

“She did.” Dane started the van and turned it to follow Kristan home. He couldn’t hear anything through the static in his head, his mind turned to a channel left blank with disbelief. He reached over and found Cyrus’s hand, fumbled until his fingers were on Cyrus’s pulse. It fluttered there like a broken butterfly, clinging to life all the way home.

At the house, Dane carried Cyrus to his room, where Negasi waited. The healer helped Dane undress Cyrus and wrap him in warm blankets while he tried to give Cyrus back some strength. When they had done all they could, Dane could hear that familiar heartbeat again, but it did nothing to comfort him now.

He left Cyrus in Negasi’s capable hands and went to his own room, where he closed and locked the door. If anyone spoke to him or if he replied, he couldn’t have said. He sat in the chair at his desk and took out a sheet of paper. He meant to write Ezqel, but the page stayed as empty as his mind.

Chapter Five

The drive home was silent. Even Kristan knew when to keep her mouth shut. When they stopped in the driveway, Noah disappeared into the house before Lindsay could say anything.

Lindsay didn’t find Noah upstairs, nor Dane. What he found instead was a locked door. Noah wouldn’t lock Lindsay out of his own room, so it must have been Dane. He’d think about that once he found Noah. Lindsay checked the back porch, but still no Noah. Finally, he found Noah in his old room, the room he hadn’t slept in since the incident with Kristan. Lindsay hadn’t been ready to let him go; he could relax at night when he knew Noah was sleeping.

The room wasn’t big, only enough space for a bed and a dresser. Noah had, at some point, shoved the bed over by the window and he sat there now on the window ledge, smoking a cigarette. A half-empty bottle swung gently as he tipped it back and forth, watching the amber liquid wash up the sides. After a moment of thoughtful contemplation, he took a drink.

Lindsay didn’t bother asking Noah if he was all right. Of course he wasn’t. Noah hadn’t been all right since he’d come here. At best, today hadn’t helped.

Lindsay settled on the bed and watched him drink, but watching wasn’t going to fix anything.

“Come here.”

Noah put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the sill, then took another drink. “Are you okay?” It wasn’t obedience, but it wasn’t outright rejection, either.

“I’ll live.” Lindsay pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees. If Noah wasn’t going to come to him, he might as well be comfortable. He let Noah guide the conversation for now, hoping it would help him relax. “It’s easier now that I can keep them out of my head.”

“How many...” Noah started, then shook his head. “I tried to keep it in one place. I just...they were going to kill him, or something. Worse. I don’t even know who they are.”

“Hounds. They belong to Dr. Moore.” Lindsay swallowed down a surge of bile that threatened to fill his mouth. “They’re...not human. Not quite mages either. Dane says their blood tastes poisoned, that Moore probably made them what they are in one of her...” He had to take a slow breath to keep his voice from catching. “In one of her experiments.”

Lindsay couldn’t let himself get distracted by Moore, though. Not right now. Noah was still vibrating enough that the alcohol sloshed in the bottle, and Lindsay held out his hand.

“Come here,” he said again.

“They’re gone now.” Noah left the bottle on the sill and came down this time. “I don’t know... I’d feel better if it had felt terrible. It didn’t.” He looked grim and distraught at once.

“I understand.” Lindsay slid over to sit with his back to the wall and coaxed Noah to sit beside him.

“It isn’t easy, but you did the only thing you could do. And thank you for it. They might have killed him, or they might have taken him back to whatever Moore is calling a lab these days, and let Jonas do it instead.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to him if I could help it.” Noah slid his arm around Lindsay and hugged him a little. “Or you. I promise. I owe you both. And I’ve had my lifetime full of being helpless already.” He gave Lindsay another squeeze.

Lindsay sighed and leaned into the embrace, reaching across to lay his hand on Noah’s chest. He knew what Noah was remembering, but didn’t know how to say so without sounding like he’d betrayed Noah’s trust somehow. “I’m sorry you were thrown into all this,” he said instead. “This isn’t what you signed on for.”

“You make it sound like it was my choice.” Noah snorted derisively. “I admit, I wasn’t going to deal, being stuck at home, no matter how much anyone tried. And I’m not stupid enough to assume Cyrus didn’t have a use for me if he took me into his house. There’s only so much I’m good for. He’s not running a steakhouse.”

There was a pause, then Noah gagged and shuddered. “Okay, no more cooking jokes.” He reached up and back to grab the bottle he’d left on the sill. Lindsay didn’t object when he took a long drink.

“His reasons don’t dictate that I can’t feel bad you’ve gotten dragged into my mess.” Irrationally, Moore felt like his problem. Knowing Moore had that girl made Lindsay feel sick inside. He was torn between wanting to run as fast and far as he could and wanting to demand Cyrus help him find her.

“And if I say you can’t?” Noah took another drink and put the bottle back. “I could have skipped out.

I knew I’d be getting in the shit. Can’t think of anywhere else I’d go, though.” He shrugged and snuggled Lindsay against him, wrapping both arms around him protectively and pressing his cheek against Lindsay’s hair. “Can’t argue it’s been therapeutic.”

Lindsay laughed. “Therapeutic, hm?” Noah wasn’t the same man who’d first been given to Lindsay, so maybe he was right. Maybe all of this was good for him, somehow.

“It’s good to belong somewhere,” Noah said quietly. He started combing his long, hot fingers through Lindsay’s damp, matted hair, untangling it with practiced gentleness. The storm had wreaked a good bit of havoc on it, but Noah’s fingers never snagged or pulled.

“You don’t smell like smoke. Guess I have to thank the weather witch for that,” he murmured. “You should be tired. You worked hard. What you did... Even if I wasn’t yours, I wouldn’t let someone take you.”

It was worth the exhaustion. But he wished he’d been able to help that girl too.

“You’re the one who put out all those fires,” he pointed out.

“You’re too new to all this to understand the whole of it.” Noah hummed softly as he worked through Lindsay’s hair. The task seemed to comfort him because Lindsay could feel his tension fading. “It’s a bit charming. The one Moore has must be as gifted as you are, in her own way. But it wouldn’t matter if she were mundane. Some things can’t happen to anyone.”

“I hope we can help her before Moore...” Lindsay shook his head and sighed. Moore had done terrible things to him, and he didn’t want to think about any of it happening to someone else. “I should’ve killed her when I had the chance.”

“Don’t think like that,” Noah said, shifting so Lindsay could see his frown. “Your damn government lets her run out of control. Someone should have killed her long before you came along. And today, you are the only one not to blame for what went wrong. You did everything right.”

“That’s not unlocking the door between me and Dane right now.” Lindsay was willing to let the issue of Moore go, but being shut out made him feel like something must be his fault.

Noah’s expression twisted. “That can hardly be your fault, either,” he said slowly, like he was plucking each word out of a minefield. “If Dane falters, you might close the door on me someday. In the past, Cyrus would never have failed, Lin. Today, he did.”

Lindsay’s frustration disappeared as Noah shone a light on what he’d missed. Cyrus had failed... That was how Moore’s people had gotten away with the mage Cyrus had been so determined to save.

What Noah was suggesting finally sank in. The idea of losing Dane was terrible and left him with a yawning emptiness in his chest that he had to take slow, deep breaths to try to fill. He couldn’t imagine how Dane felt—Dane had belonged to Cyrus for a long time. And Cyrus, the thought of being without him left Lindsay feeling exposed. Cyrus kept them safe.

“I’m sorry, Lindsay.” Noah stroked his hair and tried to comfort him. “No one is going to talk about it, at least not to us. It’s not our place. It’s for the three of them to deal with. Someday, it’ll be our place, if we live that long. Right now, it’s our place to do what Dane needs. Including getting by without him.”

Lindsay slid himself closer to Noah, soaking up the comfort he was offering. He didn’t want to think about any of it. There had been such a brief moment in which the world was right, and now he felt as though everything could fall apart in the space of a breath. He didn’t want to get by without Dane. Ever. He couldn’t put words around the way Dane made him feel, but he knew he didn’t want to live without it.

“Try to rest, so you’ll be awake later.” Noah shifted to curl up with Lindsay. Noah was right, Lindsay was exhausted. He turned toward Noah and tucked his face down against Noah’s chest, blocking out the light. Blocking out the world.

Noah was incredibly warm, and it was so good to be with him like this. Lindsay was chilled through

with exhaustion, but it wasn’t only the warmth. It was the sense that they were both where they were

supposed to be. Even if Dane couldn’t be there to comfort him, it was easy for Lindsay to drift off to sleep because he had Noah.

Lindsay had no idea how long he’d slept, but the room was dimmer when Noah’s movements woke him. He rubbed at his gritty eyes with the heel of his hand and rasped, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Noah paused and gave him a gentle pet. “Just... I keep smelling smoke. Not the cigarette kind. Need to shower. Go back to sleep, but if you get up, don’t forget to eat. Dane will eat me if you go hungry.” He grabbed a towel from the back of the door and padded out into the hall.

Lindsay dozed off again, but the sound of the shower from down the hall kept dragging him back up out of sleep. He lay there a moment, soaking up the warmth left by Noah’s body. Sleeping with Noah had felt wonderful, but his conscience nagged at him about something, forcing him to pay attention until things became more clear.

In flashes of wakefulness that had flickered between long, dark silences of deeper sleep, he’d pressed himself against Noah, as close as clothing and skin would allow. That was how he slept with Dane, the lines between sleep and the suggestion of sex blurred by their intimacy and familiarity.

Damn it. He’d felt safe and close, his body had been seeking and provoking the arousal that reassured him he was wanted, without regard for the fact that he was offering himself to the wrong person. And how could it be the wrong person, when no one but Dane had ever made him feel safe before?

Only that realization kept him from feeling more guilty than he did already. With Noah, it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Lindsay was supposed to be the one keeping Noah safe. He should have been offering Noah reassurance and comfort, not sex. Sex didn’t mean those things between them. It shouldn’t mean anything at all, except that Lindsay had gone and done that. It wasn’t the first time his sleep-addled instincts had driven him across a line he never would have crossed awake.

He hoped Noah would understand. At least Noah hadn’t seemed out of sorts. He’d just gotten up and left. Given how disastrously Noah had reacted to Kristan, Lindsay thought he’d know if Noah was distraught. Noah had been turned on, though, breath thick on Lindsay’s neck and cock hard against his ass, but thankfully, even with them both half-sleeping and Noah half-drunk, it hadn’t gone further.

Pushing his hair out of his face, Lindsay sat up. He should go. He just...he hadn’t expected Noah to respond to him. Now that Lindsay was awake, Noah’s response was almost more perturbing than Lindsay doing something thoughtless in his sleep. Dane was the only one who’d ever shown any hint of that kind of interest in him. He hadn’t thought to look for it from someone else, especially not someone he was attracted to, like Noah.

At least he could talk to Dane about it if he had to. Dane would probably laugh at him, the way he’d laughed when he’d been the recipient of Lindsay’s improper early-morning affections. The shower cut off and Lindsay made himself move. Noah needed his privacy. And maybe Dane would be ready to let Lindsay in.

He slipped out of Noah’s room before Noah came out of the bathroom, and padded up the stairs as quickly as he could manage without sounding like a herd of cattle tromping through the house. Partway up, he collided with something solid. Dane.

Writing Ezqel was as painful as if Dane had done it in his own flesh with a knife, and the pain lingered instead of fading. For once, the wretchedness of dealing with Ezqel had nothing to do with the icy truce between them. If Dane had reason to hate Moore before, he had ten times the reason now. Her madness, and the complicity of those around her, was killing Cyrus. Dane wanted this over, and was ready to do anything to make it happen.

Cyrus’s prediction that Dane would fail him one day had always felt like it would manifest in a single, terrible event. Instead, it was happening over weeks and months. In little ways, every time Dane set out to do something, he failed. Even how he felt about Lindsay was a failure, in terms of doing what Cyrus truly needed of him.

Dane wanted to regret that, and the fact that he couldn’t nagged at him. How could he regret anything about Lindsay, except that he’d never known Lindsay existed before Lindsay saved himself from Moore?

In spite of all his efforts to chastise himself for putting Lindsay first time and again, he could only regret that Cyrus hadn’t sent him after Lindsay sooner.

Vivian would take care of the letter when she returned, which Dane expected any hour now. Cyrus slept under Negasi’s care. And Lindsay... Dane unlocked the door to their room. He hoped Lindsay had been with Noah, but now that he’d done what Cyrus needed of him, he wanted Lindsay to himself.

Dane could hear the bathroom fan running and, over the noise, he was sure he could hear the near-silent patter of Lindsay’s feet on the stairs. He kept as quiet as possible himself, not wanting to wake Cyrus.

Sure enough, Lindsay was almost at the first landing, head down, watching where he stepped. Some habits were harder to break than others. Dane wanted to shake him for it sometimes. Instead, he held still and let Lindsay collide with him. Lessons could wait.

Lindsay made a deflating sound like he’d been holding his breath until he’d run into Dane. His head came up and the apologies started almost before his mouth had opened. “I’m sorry. I– Are you—?”

Dane cupped Lindsay’s face in his hands and kissed him. Words were rarely his strong point and suddenly having Lindsay there took away the handful he had at his disposal. There was no way he could be coherent about everything he felt, but Lindsay understood the language of his actions.

The kisses in return were hot and wanting. Lindsay pressed against him, arms winding around his neck like vines. Yes, Lindsay understood.

Dane swept him up and held him close the way he had when Lindsay was barely more substantial than a ghost. Lindsay had grown stronger and taller over time, but he still weighed nearly nothing in Dane’s

estimation. He carried Lindsay back upstairs and nudged the door of their room closed behind them. All he wanted was a moment of peace—time out of mind—with his Lindsay.

Carefully, as though Lindsay was still as fragile as he had been when Dane found him, Dane laid him down on their bed. He pulled away from Lindsay’s sweet, hot kisses and stroked his silky hair back from his face. Flushed, Lindsay was only barely touched with color. Everything about him looked like it was washed in moonlight, from his white-gold hair to his cloud-gray eyes. The animal in Dane wanted to hoard Lindsay like a treasure, protecting what was his from thieves and predators. He brushed a kiss over Lindsay’s forehead, breathing in his scent and finding it tangled with Noah’s.

Dane’s beast would have been more settled at dragging Noah back as well. That way, Lindsay would have no worries, and Dane would know that everything that was his was safe. He needed to know, when so much else was wrong, but it would have been unfair to do that to Noah. He nosed in Lindsay’s hair, rumbling contentedly as the scents there calmed him. Unfair now, but maybe not for much longer. At least something was right. One small thing.

“I don’t want to wake Cyrus,” he murmured, as he was nuzzling in the soft, sweat-perfumed hollow under Lindsay’s ear. “Please.” He let his head rest in the curve of Lindsay’s neck, defeated by his fears and inner conflicts.

He heard Lindsay’s breath catch, then Lindsay nodded and stroked his hair. “It’s done. No one will hear.” As though nothing had changed, Lindsay drew Dane up with his hands in Dane’s hair and kissed him.

“Thank you.” Dane pushed aside the feeling of failing again. He hated to think of Lindsay using his magic to deceive in their own house. Lindsay’s kisses distracted him well, though, and he let Lindsay pull him in for more.

Lindsay’s clothes kept Dane from his skin, and they stank of the chaos that had been on the air at Wildwood. Dane let his shape slide, settling back into the way he’d been when Lindsay had first come to him, and drew his claws down Lindsay’s chest. The fabric of Lindsay’s shirt parted without a sound, leaving the skin below untouched and bare for Dane to kiss.

“Anything,” Lindsay said, and Dane knew he meant it.

Dane reveled in every inch of perfect skin he revealed, kissing all over, down to the soft inner arches of Lindsay’s feet. There was nothing to wash away his unhappiness and fear like Lindsay’s scent and taste and the soft sounds that answered his kisses.

He stopped for a moment to look at what he’d done, at Lindsay sprawled in the ragged ruins of his clothes, and the sight made him purr. The scent of Lindsay’s pleasure drew Dane into licking the tender skin of his balls and up the shaft of his perfect cock.

That drew more moans from Lindsay, and harsher, needier sounds. “Please.” Lindsay’s voice was little more than a gasp, and he clenched his hands in the sheets and scraps of cloth. “Dane, please.”

That was all Dane needed to hear. He pinned Lindsay down to the bed with his hands wrapped around Lindsay’s slim hips and went down on him like he was starving. Lindsay was so sweet like this. Dane didn’t do it nearly often enough.

Lindsay’s noises became sharper and more desperate, and precome slicked over Dane’s tongue.

Sudden stillness and a quick hiss were all the warning Dane got before Lindsay was bucking his hips, shouting and coming in Dane’s mouth in a way that never failed to leave Dane shivering and so turned on that he could hardly think. He wanted to do it again and again, but he made himself stop once he’d licked every last trace of come from Lindsay’s skin. Somehow, he managed to start shedding his clothes as he crawled up to kiss Lindsay on the mouth.

“My Lindsay,” he growled.

“Yours,” Lindsay agreed, but he was pushing Dane away. Not away, onto his back, and Lindsay climbed up over him and kissed him again. “I want you.”

If there was anything that could divert Dane from his objective—no matter what it was—it was Lindsay wanting something else. “Anything.” Dane pushed himself up on one elbow, tangling the other hand in Lindsay’s hair, and kissed him fiercely. Anything, but first he needed one more kiss.

Lindsay let him have it, and another one after, but then he was moving away, down Dane’s body to trace the head of Dane’s cock with his tongue. Little licks and kisses all the way to the base of it, and the noises Lindsay made were as good as they had been when Dane was sucking him off.

“Lindsay...” Dane didn’t want to miss a moment of watching. He pushed Lindsay’s hair out of the way so he could see everything, Lindsay’s cheeks almost-rosy with pleasure, his mouth slick and full, the expression of pure indulgence. “Pretty.” And incredibly talented at making Dane forget that there had ever been anything else he’d wanted.

The humming noise Lindsay made sounded like a smile. He nuzzled at Dane’s cock, and sucked it into his mouth again like he couldn’t get enough. His fierce determination to make Dane feel good came through in everything he did.

Dane let him have what he wanted, the gasps of pleasure, the surrender to his sweet demands that Dane give up control and enjoy the skills Lindsay had developed since they’d first been together.

Everything about Lindsay was delicious, including this. Dane tangled his hand in Lindsay’s hair and tried to focus so that he wouldn’t forget himself, but Lindsay made it impossible.

It wasn’t long until Dane was spread out under him, hand tight in Lindsay’s hair, rocking his hips to meet Lindsay’s mouth. None of it slowed Lindsay down. He got his hands on Dane’s hips to hold him back when he pushed too far, too fast, but that only seemed to make him go faster and take Dane deeper.

Lindsay was beautiful and incredibly good at sucking cock, but it was his fierce attitude that pushed Dane’s composure to the breaking point. He gave up and let Lindsay have him, grabbing at the pillows under his head to stop from pulling Lindsay’s hair. Biting his lip to keep quiet was only denying Lindsay

something, so he made himself give that up too, yielding to a cascade of desperate gasps and babbling about how much he wanted Lindsay.

Lindsay swallowed him down, giving Dane that last bit of permission to come. It was everything Dane needed in the moment. After, when Lindsay crawled up over him to snuggle close and kiss him on the mouth, Dane pulled him in and held on as tightly as he could without leaving Lindsay breathless.

He tugged the blankets over them both, like he could hide them away from reality that way. Kissing Lindsay again and again, soft kisses on his mouth and cheeks and forehead, Dane tried to catch his breath.

Slowly, his body came down from the high of all the pleasure Lindsay had given him, and he was left with the pure bliss of having Lindsay there with him.

Needing Lindsay was something Dane had never anticipated. Being needed, of course, that was why he was there. As time passed, though, Dane had grown more than accustomed to Lindsay’s presence.

Lindsay’s crooked little sense of humor and completely unsubtle bursts of dominance and those pointy elbows in his ribs at night had become as necessary as breathing. He adored Lindsay right down to the flaws that let Lindsay need him in return.

Rolling over so Lindsay was cradled in his arms, looking up at him, Dane took a long moment to breathe in Lindsay’s contentment and soak in the sight of him. They could go on another hundred years, and Lindsay would never assume that what was between them was anything but a bit of luck that came with Cyrus insisting Dane take him on. Dane needed to fix that before he did anything else. Lindsay deserved better.

Dane kissed Lindsay’s forehead and smoothed back his tangled hair. The way Lindsay looked up at him—trusting but curious and tentatively pleased with himself—made Dane’s ribs ache from keeping his heart in check.

“I love you, Lindsay.” Simple, true and obvious, and Dane wasn’t going to let Lindsay wander around in the dark about it any longer.

Lindsay’s surprise and confusion were written all over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Finally, brows drawn together, he said, “You do?”

If Dane’s announcement had gotten anything else out of Lindsay, he would have been sorely disappointed in his judgment. As it was, he tried not to laugh at Lindsay’s frown, and kissed it away instead.

“Yeah, I do.” Lindsay wasn’t going to be clear on this any time soon and would quickly gravitate toward anything he understood better than being loved, so Dane needed to get his words right. “I love you.

Not because Cyrus gave you to me or any other bullshit about tradition. I love you, and I need you to know that. If all this goes away tomorrow, and it’s you and me sitting on a street corner like any two humans out of a job out there, I love you.”

“But.” Lindsay was quiet again. Dane could see him turning the new information over in his mind, could see all the objections and disbelief, but those weren’t what Lindsay asked about. “Me?”

Dane couldn’t help laughing this time. “You.” He kissed Lindsay on the mouth, gently. “I love you.

You made me human long before Ezqel took that damn curse off me. Just by being you. The little angry face you make when you step in a puddle, the way you breathe when you’re doing a very good job of not complaining, the way you refuse to run away even when it would save your life, all of it. I know you don’t understand. I know you don’t think anyone’s ever loved you. But I do. And I won’t let you think it’s anything else.”

“Oh.” Lindsay nodded slowly, a hint of something like hope and pleasure creeping into his expression. He tilted his face up, asking for a kiss.

Dane gave him that kiss and another for good measure. “I loved you this morning and yesterday and the day before that, and for a long time now. Don’t think anything has to change. It is what it always is.”

He ran his thumb over Lindsay’s lower lip. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Lindsay seemed to accept that. He smiled and leaned up to steal another kiss. “I like what it always is. So.”

“Good to hear. Me too.” Dane knew it would take time—maybe years—for Lindsay to make sense of being loved. But not telling him now would only make it harder to explain later. He kissed Lindsay’s hair and snuggled down with him, pulling Lindsay back against his chest. “Stay with me a while?” He had to check on Cyrus soon, maybe Lindsay needed to check on Noah, but Dane wanted just a little longer.

Lindsay snuggled up to him with a contented sigh. “Yes, please.”

Perfect. Dane tucked his face down into the curve of Lindsay’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t sleep, but he would rest, and that was what he needed.

Chapter Six

Noah came back to an empty room. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but when he realized that the most likely scenario was Dane emerging from hiding and coming to find Lindsay, he had his answer.

He was glad Lindsay hadn’t had to wait long.

The longer he was in Cyrus’s house, the more he learned to like both of them. They were as different as two people could get and obviously smitten with each other. Since Dane had accepted him, he’d been able to relax. It was good, and he was willing to do anything to keep it that way.

As for the unexpected outcome of napping with Lindsay, Noah was putting it down to being overcharged with his magic and too tired at the same time. They’d each forgotten who was next to them, and he couldn’t blame either of them for seeking comfort. Lindsay could be trusted with anything, even Noah’s mistakes, and Lindsay deserved whatever support Noah could give him. He belonged to Lindsay, scars and all.

Scotch and cigarettes in hand, Noah headed out back. There was enough light for him to get some work in before night fell, and he needed to be busy.

By the time the yard was filled with black shadows and gray evening, he had the stairs and rails on the porch. There wasn’t much in the way of a floor yet, but that would go in fast. He’d gone through the scotch and half a dozen beers and most of a pack of cigarettes, and he was tired. He wanted to be tired. He dragged himself into the house, taped a warning sign to the inside of the back door, and went to bed. There was no sense troubling Lindsay when he was too tired to have nightmares. He made it out of his sneakers and shirt before he crawled into bed and slept.