Текст книги "Tatterdemalion "

Автор книги: Anah Crow

Соавторы: Dianne Fox
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

trembling, but he seemed well, his flesh intact under his shredded clothes when Lindsay’s hands skimmed

over his body.

They were both alive and whole and safe again.

Dane pulled back to look at him in the light that spilled out of Cyrus’s window above. “Did they hurt

you?” He cupped Lindsay’s face in his hands and tilted it up.

“No,” Lindsay said, meeting Dane’s eyes. “I’m all right. They drugged me again, but I’m all right.

She didn’t get me, not this time.”

“I’m sorry.” Dane kissed Lindsay’s cheeks and his mouth before pulling away again. “I am so sorry. I

keep failing you. You deserve better.” He looked like he had when they’d first met, feral and ragged again, but his expression was so soft now.

Lindsay clenched his hands in Dane’s ragged, filthy clothes, still shaking his head. “No. I deserve

what I have. I’m yours, remember?” He’d never belonged to anyone before, never meant enough to anyone

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that his connection to them mattered. Belonging to Dane, being Dane’s, felt like the best thing that had ever happened to him. “I deserve you.”

Dane was frozen for a moment, and then he swept Lindsay up off of his feet and kissed him. His soft

growl was familiar and shamelessly possessive, sending another wave of relief through Lindsay. Dane

wasn’t going to give him up or give him away.

Above them, someone pulled the balcony doors shut and drew the curtains, leaving them alone in the

dark. It was cold outside and clouds heavy with snow were moving on the hard wind. Dane settled Lindsay

in his arms, sheltering him, kissing him all the while, and headed for the back stairs. He carried Lindsay in and up the narrow, winding staircase, down the hall past Cyrus’s room and up another tiny, creaking set of

stairs at the front of the house.

In the little garret room at the top, Dane set Lindsay on his feet and kissed him once more, tenderly.

When Dane pulled away from the kiss, Lindsay looked around. The room was filled with books, a

wardrobe, a desk and an old iron bed. There was no light in here, no warmth except for a glowing heater

tucked in a corner. Snow was rattling against the windows and the roof, and the wind wailed around the

corners.

It was so different from the room they’d given to Lindsay. Where Lindsay’s room was furnished and

ornate, with a large fireplace to keep it warm, Dane’s was spartan. It was definitely Dane’s, though.

Lindsay’s room could have been mistaken for anyone’s—there were no personal items but his clothes. In

Dane’s room, the books and the furniture had obviously been gathered over years, each thing kept because

it mattered. And here Lindsay was, with all the rest of the things Dane wanted to keep.

Dane peeled off his coat and shirt at once, the fabric tearing as he shrugged out of it and tossed it into

the corner by the door. His bare skin was marred with twisting new scars, knots and ropes that were slow to fade. He shook back his hair—something about the shifting had left it clean—and reached for Lindsay

again, as though he was unwilling to stop touching even for a moment.

Lindsay still had blood on his hands and clothes from when he’d touched Dane before they escaped,

but he didn’t care. The blood was Dane’s, so it was as good as clean.

He stepped into the circle of Dane’s arms and Dane ran his hands up and down Lindsay’s back. He

wasn’t kissing yet, it felt like he was inspecting what was his. He growled and bit Lindsay under the ear

with a hot, sucking kiss that was all sharp teeth. Lindsay shivered, his head dropping to the side to bare his neck for more.

Dane bit him again and this time, as he did, his claws cut through Lindsay’s clothes. There was no

method to it, just his hot mouth on Lindsay’s throat, claiming it for his own, and his claws shredding fabric until the pieces fell away. As eager as he seemed to get Lindsay bare, his claws never left a mark on

Lindsay’s skin.

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Lindsay wasn’t even cold anymore, especially when Dane’s fingers slipped between his thighs.

“Please?”

“Anything.” Dane was so incredibly good to him.

“Keep touching me?” That was all Lindsay wanted. He needed to be touched so he could have the

reminder, again and again, of what it was to be Dane’s.

“Come to bed.”

The bed frame was old iron, but the mattress was soft when Lindsay crawled onto it, and the covers

were filled with down, as were the pillows. The sheets were white cotton, cold with the winter chill.

Lindsay curled up on them and then stretched out, feeling the smooth fabric slide against his skin. Dane

shed the last of his ruined clothes and crept into bed next to Lindsay, pulling the blankets over them both.

Lindsay rolled over to face Dane, his cheek tucked against the crook of his bent arm. Dane didn’t pull

Lindsay into his arms, but lay there a moment instead, just looking. Even without being touched, Lindsay

felt warm and content. Dane had brought Lindsay to his space, to his bed, because Lindsay was his too.

Lindsay was still vibrating from the adrenaline and the drugs, and his head ached, but being in the haven of Dane’s bed was enough to soothe him.

Dane traced Lindsay’s features with a fingertip and put his finger under Lindsay’s chin, tilting his face

up for a kiss on the mouth. It was chaste and tender, like this was the first time.

Then he rolled Lindsay onto his back and kissed him down into the pillows. Dane’s body was so

warm against his own cool skin. Dane lifted his head and petted Lindsay’s hair. He kissed Lindsay on the

forehead, once, warm and gentle.

“Mine,” he said seriously.

“Yours.” Lindsay hadn’t known enough to want it, but now that he had it, he didn’t want to give it up.

The faint gray snow light from outside and the glow of the heater gave enough light that Lindsay

could see the tenderness in Dane’s expression. He reached up to cup Dane’s cheek in his hand and brushed

his thumb along Dane’s jaw.

Dane lay back, coaxing Lindsay up to straddle his hips. Lindsay was still a bit sore, but by the time he

was settled with his hands braced on Dane’s chest, he was happy with the view. How had he managed to

get so lucky? Wanting Dane, wanting sex, hit him all in a rush and Dane had to be able to smell it thick on the air.

“Tell me what you want.” Dane smiled when he said it, showing Lindsay a flash of sharp white teeth.

“Don’t you know?”

Dane laughed. “I like hearing it.”

“I want you,” Lindsay said. “I want whatever you’ll give me, whatever you’ll let me have. I want to

give you what you want. And I want to make you come.”

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“You can have all those things.” Dane’s voice was rough. “What I want is you, any way I can have

you. I want to hear you come, watch you come. I want to watch you be alive.”

“I’m alive.” Lindsay leaned in to kiss Dane on the mouth. “I’m alive. Thanks to you.”

“That’s what I want most.” Dane cupped Lindsay’s face in his hands and kissed him hard and deep.

Lindsay wanted Dane now. He had no idea how he’d ever managed to be patient before. He licked at

Dane’s mouth and his jaw, working his way under to lick the tender skin of Dane’s throat. He might have

been on top, but he knew how to be submissive nonetheless. Dane’s groan was proof enough that Lindsay

had learned well.

“I want.” He nipped to punctuate his demand and got a low rumble from Dane. “Fuck me.”

“Anything,” Dane said again. “You want that, go get the silver tin from the right-hand drawer in the

desk.”

In the drawer, on top of an old pistol and a cigarette case, Lindsay found the tin and turned to hold it

out.

Dane was leaning on one elbow watching him, smiling, and Lindsay caught a glimpse of something in

a mirror that stood in the far corner of the room. The person in the mirror wasn’t thin and bent anymore,

and not a boy, either. The person there was tall enough to be a man and lean but not thin. He seemed

healthy, and there was enough light from the window on his face that Lindsay could see that he looked

happy.

“That’s what I want. Come to bed, little bunny.”

Lindsay took one more look at himself, at the young man who seemed so surprisingly strong, and then

turned away. Dane was waiting for him. Laughing, he ran across the room and jumped into bed, making the

frame groan.

“Not so little anymore,” Lindsay said, pushing Dane over on his back and crawling on top of him.

“No.” Dane let himself be moved and fell into the pillows, still smiling. “Not so little anymore.”

Lindsay dipped his fingers into the tin, finding something inside that felt like thick cream. It smelled

of beeswax, but Lindsay didn’t investigate further, setting the tin aside instead. He found Dane’s hard cock, still ready for him, and stroked it, getting a delicious noise from Dane.

“I want you,” Dane murmured.

It wasn’t as though Lindsay couldn’t tell, but Dane was saying it because he knew how much Lindsay

loved to hear it. “Did you…before you told me?” He stroked a while longer, reveling in touching Dane so

intimately. If he hadn’t been giddy with relief and success, he wouldn’t have asked, but Dane had said such sweet things already that it made him bold. He wanted to know so much, to hear Dane say it.

“Yes.” Dane’s voice was rough with need and it made Lindsay shiver. “Even when you were angry at

me. Before I should have.”

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Before… oh. God, it seemed a century ago that Lindsay had been angry at Dane, angry at him for

something as trivial as fooling around with Kristan.

“Oh.” Lindsay blinked a sudden welling of tears away and moved to kiss Dane as he slid his slick

fingers into himself this time. “That’s a long time.”

“It’ll just get longer.” Dane’s hands were all over him, touching him like Dane was claiming him.

Lindsay’s hand was shaking as he guided Dane into him; his whole body was full of a flood of

emotion. He whimpered and Dane stroked his hair, making soothing noises. “I’m okay,” Lindsay managed

to say. “I am, I am…”

God, he was more than okay, he was perfect. Alive and wanted and real.

Dane leaned up, effortlessly pulling himself to almost sitting, and kissed Lindsay on the mouth. “I’m

proud of you.”

Lindsay sucked in a breath, surprised by the praise. “Th-thank you,” he managed, licking at Dane’s

mouth like the words might’ve left some residue he could taste there.

“You rescued me,” Dane pointed out, wrapping his arms around Lindsay and kissing him back. “You

didn’t panic. You saved us. Saved me. Your magic worked.” He brushed a kiss over Lindsay’s lips. “You

made me proud. I still am.”

Dane was proud of him.

“Thank you. I’m glad I wasn’t too late.” Lindsay let Dane’s pride and affection wash away the worry

that he could’ve gotten there too late, that Dane could’ve died for good this time. He moved again, rocking his hips to let Dane’s cock slide in and out of his body.

“Lindsay…” It was little more than a groan, and Dane shuddered under him. He was always so

composed in bed, at least until now. Whatever Lindsay was doing—maybe just being himself—he was

driving Dane crazy.

“You sound so good like that.” Lindsay could hear how much Dane wanted him, and it was

incredible.

Dane wasn’t one to be passive, but he let Lindsay have him. Like this, Lindsay could see his face; it

was overwhelming how much he could see, and how much it mattered to him.

Lindsay got lost in the way Dane responded to him, listening for every moan and growl, feeling for

each arch of Dane’s back into his touches. Making Dane feel good was its own reward, and Lindsay

worked for it. “Tell me what you need?”

“You. Just you.” Dane opened his eyes, focusing on Lindsay. “Just fuck me. I want to see you, want

to hear you. You are so beautiful.”

“You can have all of that.” Lindsay’s words trailed off into a moan as he wrapped one hand around

his cock and stroked himself. Dane could have all of that, and more.

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Precome slicked Lindsay’s hand, easing the way as he stroked himself. His breath came faster with

every pull, and he fucked himself on Dane’s cock, rolling his hips to get it in deep. His hand moved faster, his body moved harder, until he was shouting Dane’s name and coming all over his hand and Dane’s chest.

Dane was growling softly under his breath, still moving. “Don’t stop.” It sounded as close to begging

as Lindsay had ever heard him. His breath was broken by desperate hitches and he writhed until his back

came up off the bed and his hands dug into Lindsay’s hips, slamming him down and holding him tight.

Then he was coming, and Lindsay soaked up the sound of his name in Dane’s gasping, pleasure-drunk

voice.

Eventually, Dane managed to muster up a tender smile that was exactly what Lindsay wanted to see.

He shifted to cradle Lindsay against him, snuggling down until they ended up nestled in the sheets, still entwined as close as humanly possibly. “Sleep.”

Lindsay woke up already humming with contentment. He was cuddled up against Dane, warm and

safe, and Dane was nuzzling in his hair. The sun was creeping between the broken clouds and through the

window into Dane’s little garret room. It was perfect. “Mmm. Morning?” Lindsay lifted his head, blinking

at Dane with a soft smile.

“Morning,” Dane said, laughing quietly. “We’re still here.” It was a victory, just that they were still

here together. He ducked his head to nudge at Lindsay’s cheek, hunting for a kiss.

Lindsay rubbed his cheek against Dane’s and pulled back to brush his lips over Dane’s. “It’s a good

morning, then.” He kissed Dane again, soft and sweet.

They were still kissing when a knock came at the door. Dane’s head jerked up, his body went tense,

and a growl rattled in his chest.

Lindsay stifled his own nervousness and reached up to cup Dane’s cheek in his hand. “We’re at

home,” he reminded Dane. No one would hurt them here. He hoped.

Dane grumbled at that and got out of bed to pull on a pair of jeans that were folded on a chair by the

bed. Lindsay hadn’t seen it last night, but it was so Dane that the jeans were there with a pair of boots on the floor by the chair and a shirt folded over the back. There was an old, dark coat hanging on the back of the door. Of course. In case Dane wanted to go out the window instead of getting his coat in the front hall.

Lindsay was filled with a wash of tender affection for his eccentric lover.

“Wait,” Dane snapped, when the knock came again. The tone made Lindsay feel safer—there was no

chance Dane was talking to him that way.

Dane offered Lindsay the shirt from the chair and Lindsay wriggled into it. He didn’t have to undo

anything to get it on, and it came to his thighs when he smoothed it down. His hands were lost in it, so he pushed the cuffs up. He tugged the blankets around himself again and sat up against the pillows, giving

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Dane a smile. He wasn’t ashamed of being nearly naked, or of being marked with the reminders of their

sex.

“All ready now,” he said. Dane pressed a kiss to Lindsay’s forehead and went to answer the door.

“I thought you might be hungry.” It was Vivian’s voice. “And I wanted to speak to you. Cyrus said

you would be awake.” Dane checked over his shoulder one more time before letting her into the room.

“Good morning, dear,” she said to Lindsay. She was carrying a tray laden with food, a newspaper propped

up against the coffee carafe.

“What do you want?” Dane leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and watched her with

more suspicion than Lindsay thought she deserved.

“Aside from bringing you breakfast,” Vivian said as she put the tray on the chair by the bed, “I came

to give you my apologies.” When she straightened, she clasped her hands and gave Lindsay a bow. “I am

sorry for failing you both.”

Lindsay felt a shock of concern and then a rush of awkwardness. He wasn’t used to anyone

apologizing to him. “You didn’t…” he began.

“She did,” Dane said flatly. “What happened?” Lindsay hadn’t seen him look so dire about anyone

but Ezqel or Jonas.

“I miscalculated,” Vivian said simply. She faced Dane’s anger without flinching. “I thought Moore

would be controlling the girl. She’s more of a free agent than I ever expected Moore to allow. She must

have found Jonas on her own, but I have no idea how she knew you would be in New York when you

were.”

“She had other people with her,” Lindsay blurted out. The memory of the twin mages and their hands

on him wouldn’t fade any time soon. He remembered their names, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the

words out loud, like speaking would summon them up again.

“Who?” Dane’s voice made Lindsay jump and clutch the covers tighter. He hadn’t been afraid of

Dane since he’d woken up in this house, but he was now, just for a moment.

“Two men.” The names wouldn’t come out; Lindsay’s tongue refused to work. He had to focus on

Dane to keep talking. “She said I could have them, instead of you.” His throat got tight at the memory and

his vision blurred. “Because she was taking you away.”

Dane crossed the room so quickly that he was already there when Lindsay blinked away his tears. He

sat on the bed and let Lindsay burrow into his arms. “It’s okay,” Dane said gently, stroking his hair. “I’m here now. You did that.”

The petting worked, it always had. Lindsay took a breath and tried to shake off the flood of misery

that was trying to drown his memories. “They were twins,” he managed to say, taking comfort in the fact

that his voice didn’t shake that much. “Tall and thin. Like polished wood.”

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“Dark skin and hair and eyes? Older than you?” Vivian asked. Lindsay could only nod. “I’ll have to

tell Cyrus they’re here. That explains much.”

“It does?” Lindsay pushed away from Dane enough to look at her. He didn’t want to lose Dane’s

comforting presence, but he wasn’t going to cower and cry when Vivian knew something he didn’t.

“Null mages.” Vivian’s face was tight and pale. “And they have other tricks. But they are at their

best—their worst—when they’re together. I wonder what the girl did to draw them in.”

“You know them?” It still felt that Lindsay needed a map to his own country.

“Of them.” Vivian looked at Dane, then back at Lindsay. “We are not all so interesting that those

among us with extraordinary powers don’t go unnoticed by the rest. And she may not be able to keep

them.” She picked up the paper that was on the tray and unfolded it, offering it to him.

Dane let Lindsay go and Lindsay took the paper to read it. The front page documented a terrible

accident at a National Guard base miles away. Another failure for Moore. “Is she in trouble?”

“In disgrace, I’d call it,” Vivian said quietly. “Once more. I’ll be leaving for Washington in a few

hours. I may not be back for some time. I’m leaving Kristan here to help out, for now. She knows what I

need her to do.”

“Are you…?” Lindsay pulled his eyes away from the paper—he could hardly make sense of it all

right now anyway—to look at her. Are you in trouble? As soon as he knew what he was thinking, he

couldn’t say it. “It wasn’t all your fault. You can’t know everything.”

Vivian gave him a warm smile. “I can try. I should go prepare. I need to ensure that Moore and her

people lose as much power as possible. The lobbyists are making my job harder than ever in DC. But I’m

glad you’re home safe.” She came over and leaned in to kiss the top of Lindsay’s head. Once, it would have

made him cringe, but now it felt comforting. “Take care of each other, and Cyrus.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Dane rumbled, concern on his face. It looked more like irritation, but

Lindsay knew better.

“Well, I won’t worry about you.” Vivian gave him a stern look as she stepped away. “You shouldn’t

have bothered escaping. They’d’ve put you out on the curb in a day or two.”

Dane laughed at her and shook his head. “They just don’t appreciate me like you do.”

“Me, yes. Cyrus, not so much,” Vivian said dryly.

“Not my fault he can hear everything.” Dane got up to walk her to the door and Lindsay resisted the

urge to hide under the covers, cuddling up in the pillows instead.

“You make it impossible for him not to,” Vivian chided. At the door she stood and tilted her chin up,

obviously demanding a kiss, which Dane gave to her on her cheek. “Do try not to get yourself thrown out

before I get home.”

“I’ll behave,” Dane promised solemnly. “I’m a new man.”

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“You are.” Vivian reached up and patted his cheek. “Welcome home, Dane.” With that, she was gone.

Dane closed the door on the sound of her heels on the stairs.

Lindsay looked at Dane carefully, but Dane seemed well enough. “What?” Dane asked, giving him a

grin.

“You didn’t tell me Cyrus could hear everything.” Lindsay wanted to hide all over again. They hadn’t

been quiet last night. Everyone had probably heard them, now that he stopped to think about it. At least Vivian and Cyrus had.

“Cyrus is an old stick,” Dane said loftily. He came back to the bed and bent to give Lindsay a long,

hot kiss, one hand tight in Lindsay’s hair. “Besides,” he murmured, sitting beside Lindsay. “It’s no one’s

business what I do with what’s mine.”

“You like everyone knowing I’m yours,” Lindsay countered. He liked it too. He liked the idea that

someone could hear his voice and know, could see the proof written out on his skin, that he belonged to

Dane. Lindsay liked that he could look at himself in the mirror and know it. He also liked being able to

show Dane with the sound of his voice how good Dane made him feel.

Dane purred and nuzzled Lindsay’s cheek. “You might have a point.” His hair was all over the place,

the scars were faded to almost nothing under the silky fur on his chest, and his jeans were sliding down his hips and barely containing his cock. “You don’t object.”

“I like it too.” The marks on Lindsay’s skin, scars and bite marks alike, wouldn’t fade nearly so

quickly as Dane’s had. He’d wash away the sweat and come, but he didn’t think Dane’s scent would be so

easy to shed, either. Especially not if Dane kept putting it right back on.

Dane gave him that feral grin and kissed him hard and fast. He still didn’t seem too interested in food

when he asked, “Hungry?”

“Depends what you want to feed me.”

“Better feed you something that’ll do you good.” Dane kissed him tenderly this time, and rolled off

the bed. He stretched as he walked back to get their breakfast tray. “Cyrus may have decided I haven’t

completely ruined you, but he’s not going to take me starving you.”

“I’m not going to starve if I skip breakfast,” Lindsay said, laughing.

“Fine, but I might.” Dane set the tray on the end of the bed, and shucked his jeans, tossing them over

the chair again. “Besides, you need your strength, little bunny.” He slid into bed next to Lindsay.

Lindsay looked Dane up and down, and laughed again. “If you wanted me to focus on food, that was

not the way to go about it.” He sat up a bit more and looked at the tray.

There was meat there, a sliced steak on a plate, barely cooked. Vivian apparently knew Dane’s

preferences well. There was toast for Lindsay and cheese and fruit along with the coffee and a dish of fried potatoes. Maybe he was hungry.

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Dane stroked Lindsay’s back when he leaned forward to get a slice of toast. Lindsay smiled,

wriggling into the touch as he sat back again and nibbled the edge of the toast.

Dane rumbled softly, letting Lindsay see how much Lindsay affected him. Lindsay was starting to

understand what worked best, if he were of a mind to get something out of Dane. Dane leaned forward to

tug the tray closer, until it bumped into one of his knees. “Think you can remember how that whole

vacation thing works?”

Lindsay tilted his head. “I think there was sunshine involved. And sex.”

“Very good.” Dane picked up a fork and stabbed a slice of steak, popping the meat into his mouth. He

looked thoughtful. “Won’t be sunny here for a while yet.”

Lindsay worked his way through the slice of toast, and reached out for the bowl of fruit. “It’s not like

I’m going to get a tan anyway,” he pointed out. “I can improvise.”

“I’m sure we can find something to do.” Dane offered Lindsay a piece of steak and gave him a stern

look.

When Lindsay saw Dane’s expression, he sighed and obediently opened his mouth to take the bite.

Dane fed him, and leaned in to kiss him with a satisfied grunt. “You’re going to need your strength for

your vacation,” he murmured.

“I’d better eat up, then.” Lindsay stole another kiss, and then stole Dane’s fork to get himself another

bite of the steak.

Dane laughed and slid his arms around Lindsay, getting Lindsay in his lap once Lindsay ate a little

more. “Good. I’d hate for anyone to say I’m not doing my job.”

Lindsay snuggled into Dane’s lap, getting comfortable, and tipped his head back so he could see

Dane’s face. “Oh, I think you’re doing excellent work,” he murmured, popping a bite of melon into his

mouth.

“So you’ll be keeping me, then?” Dane teased gently, holding Lindsay against him.

“I belong to you, not the other way around.” Finally, Lindsay felt perfectly comfortable with who and

what he was, and his place in the world. He rubbed his cheek against Dane’s bare chest. He knew Dane

wouldn’t willingly give him up, not now.

Dane was quiet a moment, and he pressed a kiss to Lindsay’s forehead. “Yes,” he said. “You have it

right. That’s how it is.” His arms tightened around Lindsay and he ducked his head so that his hair fell all around them and Lindsay was wrapped up in him, safe.

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About the Author

To learn more about Anah Crow and Dianne Fox, please visit www.anahcrow.com and

www.foxwrites.com. Send an email to Anah Crow at anahcrow@gmail.com or to Dianne Fox at

fox.dianne@gmail.com or subscribe to the Fox & Crow Newsletter to join in the fun!

http://www.foxwrites.com/newsletter

No trust without truth.

Many Roads Home

© 2009 Ann Somerville

Fleeing his murderous brother-in-law, Vicont Yveni, heir to the Duchy of Sardelsa, seeks safety

abroad until he can reclaim his birthright. Instead he ends up shipwrecked, captured and taken to the one

country where he dare not reveal his identity. Worse, he’s just been bought by a man with no love for

Sardelsa.

Ripped from his family as a child and sold into slavery, Paole’s natural gift for healing made him a

valuable asset but did little to shield him from abuse and prejudice. Though he’s now free, for the first time in his life he’s alone—and he hates it. All he wanted was an apprentice and traveling companion in this

hostile land. Instead he winds up the unintentional owner of a slave with a mulish attitude…and a

suspicious history.

Yveni dares not tell the truth about who he is, and Paole refuses to trust him until he comes clean. The

battle of wills only serves to heat up a sizzling attraction that throws a new complication into the mix: love.

Paole wants acceptance. Yveni wants his birthright. Even if they manage to come to an understanding,

forces are gathering against them that could tear them apart forever…

Warning: Virginal angsting, interminable UST, and tender loving.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Many Roads Home:

His irritation grew as he discovered another difficulty keeping an unwilling prisoner brought him. His

normal routine when he arrived in a town, same as Mathias’s had been, was to make a camp just outside

and go in on foot with what he needed, occasionally taking Peni if he was collecting materials or supplies.

Mathias had always taken Paole with him, and even sent him off to deal with patients on his own, as

Mathias’s age meant he could do less than was demanded of him. But Paole couldn’t turn up to see people

with a slave on a chain. Mathias had never chained him, had never needed to. Gaelin would run off as soon

as Paole unleashed him.

So he was forced to drive into town, leaving the boy chained to the wagon while he visited the

ironmongers for what he needed, then head out to where he planned to make camp. He had to make sure

there was a tree sturdy enough for the purpose, since he didn’t dare leave the brat with easy access to the wagon and all its tools in the back.

Gaelin resisted as Paole dragged him over to the tree. “Why are you chaining me up here?” he

demanded as Paole fastened the lock on the new longer chain and tested it. “What have I done now?”

“Nothing, and that’s the way I want it to stay.”

“But what if it rains, or I need to eat?”

Blast it. Paole hadn’t considered that. “Then you’ll get wet.” The sky was clear, so there was no risk today, but it was something else to worry about. “I’ll leave you food and water.”

“Is there no task you want to set me?”

Paole had a dozen things a trustworthy apprentice could be set to, but nothing for this boy. “No, and

mind your tongue.”

“I just want to be useful, master.”

Paole felt like rolling his eyes.

“Is there not even a book I could read?”

He supposed that was reasonable, though he suspected the boy’s motives. “I’ll see if there’s

something. Now, no more demands, or you’ll do without food and water until tomorrow.”

“I understand, master.”

Again that flat tone which carried no obvious insult, but it still managed to sting. Perhaps it was just

Paole’s guilty conscience. Better not to engage with him at all, until he felt calmer.

He left the boy with Kusa’s Herbalist, since it was replaceable if the brat decided to damage it, as well as the canteen of water, some fruit and dried meat. He’d buy bread in the town and other supplies.

Something else to consider—he’d have to buy enough for two now. And what about the winter? He nearly

groaned. He hadn’t thought this through in the least.

He did his best to lose his foul temper before he reached the town again, but Addler the healer still

quirked an eyebrow at him. “Something biting you, Master Paole?”

“Not really. Just some business in Kivnic that went awry.”

“Someone said they thought you had a companion with you as you came through earlier.”