Текст книги "Tatterdemalion "

Автор книги: Anah Crow

Соавторы: Dianne Fox
сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

do that?”

“Maybe because he trusts you?” Vivian shrugged gracefully, smiling at him. “It really might be good

for you, you know, to have something of your own.”

“I don’t want it.” Dane turned away from her, careful not to slosh the milk in the tiny pitcher on the

tray.

“It’s not always your choice.”

“What am I supposed to do with him?” Dane gave up and put the tray back before he spilled

something in frustration. Cyrus could wait for his damn tea.

“Be yourself.” Vivian shrugged again. “You’ve never failed at that. He needs someone. And we need

him. You don’t have to mean it, Dane.” She took a sip of her tea. “You just have to do it. It’s not like he’ll ever know the difference. How could he?”

26

www.samhainpublishing.com

Tatterdemalion

But that was just it. Where other creatures, human creatures, could lie and deceive, animals were

notoriously poor at anything but the most trivial dishonesty. Dane had been trapped in this half-state longer than other men lived, and he’d grown comfortable in it, in his isolation and his feral honesty. There were

good reasons why being separated from his more human self had been a relief.

He wanted to tell Vivian and Cyrus both how much this disgusted him, but he couldn’t. He picked up

the tray instead. “This had better not take long.”

Cyrus looked up when Dane returned with the tea and set it beside him. He didn’t comment until

Dane had handed over his cup. “You will, of course, observe a modicum of decorum with him.”

“I’ll what?” Dane straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. He was already worn thin with

this idiocy about him taking care of the fragile little mage. “Say what you mean for once, Cyrus.”

Cyrus sipped his tea and chuckled. “Don’t allow your animal instincts to get the better of you, or his

to get the better of him. This is not a dalliance, nor is he available to you as entertainment, should you grow bored.”

Dane was sorely tempted to walk out. “I’m not an animal, Cyrus.”

“Just a warning.” Cyrus took another sip of tea. “The last thing I need is to lose him because you’ve

broken his heart. You do have a certain charm, you know.” He gave Dane a look he knew well, all corvine

amusement at Dane’s expense.

“I’ll do what’s best for him.” If Dane was stuck with this, he was going to do it right, and damn

Cyrus’s maundering about decorum.

“See that you do.” Cyrus turned his attention to his tea and his papers. “Don’t coddle him. His training

should begin the moment he’s well enough. I want to know what he can do as soon as possible.”

“Is that all?” Maybe Cyrus wanted some flowers arranged, or some kittens fostered, or some other

equally appropriate use of Dane’s time.

“For now.” Cyrus didn’t look up. “Make sure he dresses warmly when you take him out. I don’t want

to have to call the healer back again.”

Dane took a long breath and let it out slowly. Childcare wasn’t in his job description. He didn’t even

have a job description. Sometimes, he wished for one, so he could point at it when he was trying to refuse

new things, for all the good it would do him in the end.

www.samhainpublishing.com

27

Chapter Three

Lindsay hadn’t left his room yet, not today and not before. He’d showered, soaking up the heat from

the water. Dane kept the fire going in the fireplace, but a chill always crept in. Lindsay was cold all the time, these days. Maybe he had been before the Institute. It was hard to remember. Even the calisthenics

that had been drilled into him one horrible summer at military camp—useful enough now that he was trying

to regain some strength—didn’t warm him up.

He’d wrapped himself in a robe he’d found in the closet and curled up in the chair Dane used when

watching over him in the night. He was sure it was warmer there than anywhere else in the room. Lindsay

looked out the window at the cold blue sky. At least he wasn’t the only thing that was cold. The door

creaked open and Lindsay startled, but only a little.

“Hello, dear.” Vivian was a tiny Asian woman, even smaller than Lindsay. Lindsay couldn’t begin to

guess her age or her origin. There was something timeless about her, as with Dane, that made it hard to

compare her with anyone else Lindsay had known.

Today, she was dressed in a bright red pantsuit and had her dark hair pulled back. Her hands were full

of shopping bags in a variety of colors. The difference between her and Dane was night and day. She was

elegant and refined, while Dane was huge and seemed perpetually shabby.

“I went shopping for you. Dane said you’d been up and about so I thought you ought to have some

clothes.”

Lindsay tilted his head, watching her, trying to figure out if there was a catch. “Thank you,” he said

softly. He meant it. “You were able to guess my size?” He didn’t even know his own clothing size.

“I’m clever that way.” Vivian stopped at the desk and put down the bags she was carrying.

“Someone’s got to keep everyone in the house dressed. I bought you slacks and such. You’ll be wanting to

go out soon. I had to guess, so I bought several pairs of shoes. I’ll go get those while you take a look in the bags.”

“Thank you,” he said again, slipping up out of the chair. He pulled the robe tight around himself and

padded over to peer into the bags.

He pulled out a heavy, charcoal-colored wool coat, and the gloves and scarf that had been tucked

beneath it. It looked warm. He liked that idea.

Vivian returned with three more bags. “Of course, I had to get you a couple pairs of jeans, because

Dane said it was nonsense to bring just slacks, that you’d want jeans.”

Tatterdemalion

“Thank you,” Lindsay said quietly. He didn’t know if he would or not. Maybe Dane was right.

“Do you want to try some of it on while I wait, or should I leave you to it?” Vivian gave him a warm

smile. “You’ll be going out with Dane as soon as you’re able.”

Lindsay blinked at her. “Going out?”

“Well, you’ve got to get used to the city.” Vivian took boxes of shoes and boots out of the largest bag.

“Cyrus has put Dane to the task of making sure you get on okay, that you learn to fend for yourself, get

strong and stay safe. You’ll want to be working on your magic too, I’m sure.”

His magic. Lindsay looked at the boxes so he wouldn’t have to look at Vivian. His magic had only

ever gotten him in trouble, and he was still trying not to think about all those bodies… Why would he want

to use it now? “Of course.”

“From what we can tell, your magic is going to be very good for you. It should hide you from anyone

who still wants to hunt you down. Well, except for Dane. If anyone can get through it, Dane can.” Vivian

found socks at the bottom of the bag and handed them over.

Lindsay took the socks and put them on the chair. Hiding sounded safe. He gathered up briefs, slacks

and a shirt. No sense putting on shoes without clothes. “How would he get through it?” Lindsay asked,

heading for the bathroom to dress.

“He’s got exceptional senses.” Vivian raised her voice to be heard through the bathroom door. “I’m

sure you’ve noticed that he’s not entirely human.”

“I…yes.” Lindsay fumbled with the clothes. It had been a while since he’d done this for himself. “Am

I human?” he asked, when he came out of the bathroom. He looked up from fastening the last button on his shirt, through his hair hanging in his face. “I mean…the magic?”

“You are human. But gifted. Magically gifted.” Vivian’s expression was fond. “You look quite nice in

that. I did a fair job with the sizes.”

Lindsay looked at himself and shrugged. “Thank you. It fits well.” Magically gifted. It hadn’t felt like

much of a gift, so far.

“You’re a handsome young man.” Vivian came over, reaching for his throat. Lindsay backed off,

instinctively, but then he realized she was only reaching for the shirt to adjust his collar. Vivian didn’t seem to notice, or if she had, she didn’t show it. “You don’t need to worry about going out. Dane will take care of you.”

“I’m going today? Now?” She made it sound so immediate.

“You don’t have to go today, dear.” Vivian sounded more maternal than Lindsay’s mother ever had.

“Whenever you’re feeling well. You could start by looking around the house. Just stay to this floor and the one below. There’s a little library down the hall, though what you’d want with books that were old when

Cyrus was a boy is beyond me. You’re welcome to them, though.” She brushed his hair back off his

shoulders. “Are you going to want that cut, or shall I leave you be like the rest of the men in the house?”

www.samhainpublishing.com

29

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

Lindsay shook his head, reaching up to tug the ends of his hair. “No. I want…” He touched the closed

collar of his shirt with his other hand. “I want to cover the marks.”

All across his collarbone and low around the back of his neck, scars like acid burns spilled pink over

his pale skin. Dozens of smaller scars starburst out from the burns, from the collar exploding against his skin. There were matching scars on his wrists, and worse, wide stripes of scarring where his wrists met his hands, where he’d torn his skin open trying to pull free.

The shirt covered all the marks, but his long hair served as another barrier, another veil between what

had happened to him and what the rest of the world could see.

“All right.” Vivian stepped back. “Why don’t I leave you to play dress-up? Anything that doesn’t fit,

put it in the hall. Are you hungry?”

Lindsay tilted his head, thinking about the question. “I… Maybe. I think so.” Deciding when to eat

was another thing he hadn’t done for himself in a long time. There were so many things he would have to

relearn.

“I’ll send Dane up with a meal. Seems he’s still the only man in this house who doesn’t forget to eat.”

Lindsay could have gotten his own food—he was dressed, after all—but he wanted to see Dane again.

Vivian was nice, and he liked her, but there was something about Dane that made Lindsay need to trust him. Having Dane bring him lunch one more time wouldn’t hurt.

Vivian gestured to the clothes she’d laid out for Lindsay. “If you’d rather other styles, let me know. I

was guessing at what you’d like.”

“This is…” Lindsay looked around at the clothes. “This is fine. Thank you.” He smiled tentatively.

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t work.”

“You can go shopping for yourself, once you have your magic mastered.” Vivian folded up the empty

bags and stacked them on a chair. “Then you won’t have to worry about my sense of style. Dane will come

see you in a few minutes.”

Lindsay’s smile widened. That, at least, seemed like it might be a perquisite to learning to use his

magic. Maybe not enough to make his magic seem like a gift, but being free to come and go on his own…

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Lindsay. Ask if you need anything else.” Vivian left him alone, then, closing the

door behind her.

Lindsay watched her leave, and went back into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. Pale

gray eyes stared back at him, two smudges of faded color in all his pale, pink-white skin and pale, white-

gold hair. Other than the scars, the rest of the damage from the Institute was gone. Even his teeth were

white and perfect again.

He wasn’t sure how Vivian had managed it, but the dark blue shirt made him seem less washed-out. If

he was going to be responsible for buying his own clothes, someday, maybe he should ask her about it.

30

www.samhainpublishing.com

Tatterdemalion

After he learned how to use his magic.

Every day since Vivian had brought him the clothes, Lindsay had gotten up and showered and

dressed. It felt good, like a piece of normality. He was still tired all the time, and cold, but he at least had enough energy to get himself clean and dressed in the mornings.

Some days, as Vivian had suggested, he even crept beyond the threshold of his room. The first time he

had dared to do it, his knees were weak as he stood in the hall and realized that he could, if he wanted, go anywhere. He had found the library, which only got bigger the deeper in he wandered, until he was afraid he would lose the way back out. Reading was difficult even if Lindsay knew the language of the books he

chose, because his head still hurt so often. Most days, he ended up in a chair by the window, watching the

clouds navigate the sky.

Today, he put on dark wool slacks and a blue dress shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar, and the

clouds were shaped like fantastic things: dragons, minotaurs, gryphons. Everything in Cyrus’s house had a

touch of magic, it seemed, even the windows—everything Lindsay saw through them had a mysterious

beauty to it, down to the gray street and dirty snow.

The silence in Cyrus’s house wasn’t like the silence of Lindsay’s childhood home. That silence had

been oppressive, like every noise Lindsay made was an imposition. In Cyrus’s house, silence had a sense of

waiting, like the house was holding its breath. Sometimes, the house would sigh, and the air would tug at

Lindsay’s hair so he knew that the house knew he was there.

Lindsay felt welcome in the house in a way he had never felt welcome anywhere else in the world.

When he left the room, his footfalls were muffled by the carpet runners that lined the halls, and the aging loveseats and chaises in the sitting room Lindsay found next to his room still had enough spring and

stuffing to be comfortable. Yet, everything was slightly worn, so Lindsay felt as though he could touch

without offending. His fingers brushed a worn place on the arm of the big chair in his room and crept down

to the grooves carved by Dane’s claws. When Lindsay had first found the wear and realized that those

marks had been worn while Dane sat in this chair watching over him, the feeling had been indescribably

wonderful.

The door swung open as Dane came in, Lindsay’s lunch on the tray in one big hand. He didn’t seem

to change much from one day to the next, always lost behind the heavy fall of hair and the dense beard, his body obscured by loose clothing. For all that he was huge, he was very quiet, even in his big boots. He

rarely spoke, either, seeming to be satisfied with whatever his senses picked up, so it was a surprise when he said, “Eat up. We’re going out.”

Lindsay sat up, startled. “Out?” Vivian had said so, but days had passed since then, and he had almost

forgotten.

www.samhainpublishing.com

31

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

Dane set the tray on the desk. “Time to learn to fend for yourself.” He straightened and looked

Lindsay over. “You’re well enough.”

To fend for himself. To learn to use his magic, Dane meant. Lindsay didn’t know that he wanted to

learn to use it. If he left it alone, wouldn’t everyone leave him alone in turn?

“What good will it do me to learn to use the magic?” he asked, and ducked his head, afraid he’d make

Dane angry with him. “I mean, shouldn’t I just leave it alone? With all the trouble it’s been…”

“Can’t not be what you are. They already know what you are.” Dane crossed his arms over his chest

and shook his hair back so he could glare at Lindsay properly. “Embarrassment to your father, liability to

the government, and experiment that got loose. Can’t stop being a mage any more than you can stop being

Carrington’s son. Eat your lunch. Long day ahead.”

Lindsay flinched, stomach churning. The reminder of what he was to his family hurt. It hadn’t taken being a mage to cause that, though. He’d never felt like he was what they’d wanted in a son. Being a mage

had only been the last straw. He shuffled over to the desk and sat to pick at his food.

“Didn’t say they were right, any of them,” Dane added, as he turned away. “They’re not. But that

won’t stop them from looking for you, no matter what you do. Come find me when you’re done.”

Come find him. Lindsay could do that. He took a slow, calming breath and tried to get through his

meal.

Downstairs, the house was comfortingly domestic. The main stairs led to a spacious foyer that opened

up to a dining room to one side and a sitting room to the other, and a hallway ran to the back of the house.

Lindsay had ventured down once before, in the night, but the sound of voices on the back stairs had sent

him fleeing to his room rather than exercise his rusty social skills. To his relief, there was no one in sight but Dane, sprawled in a big chair in front of the sitting room fire, reading a leather-bound book that seemed small in his hand.

Lindsay hovered in the archway a moment, then stepped inside. “…Dane?” His voice broke, and he

tried again. “Dane?” Better.

“Ready to go?” Dane looked ready. On further inspection, when he closed his book and put it aside,

he’d finally shaved off the beard and he’d pulled back his hair. Exposed, he looked inhuman, rough-hewn

and unfinished. He got to his feet and prodded the logs in the fire with the poker, settling them down.

Lindsay looked at himself. Pants, shirt, shoes. He was carrying his coat. “Yes.” No. He wasn’t ready

to go anywhere.

“No sense wasting time.” Dane closed the doors on the fireplace and got up. When he turned, he

stopped and frowned until Lindsay was about to start panicking, and then he nodded as though he’d come

to some conclusion. “Do you know New York?”

32

www.samhainpublishing.com

Tatterdemalion

“Yeah.” Lindsay looked himself over again, trying to figure out what Dane had been frowning about.

What had he done wrong? “My parents have a house in Greenwich. I grew up there. Sort of.” He checked

Dane’s expression cautiously. No frown now. “When I wasn’t away at school.”

“Then you know how to get us to Washington Square Park.” Dane stepped around Lindsay on his way

to pull a long, black coat from the hall closet. He tugged it on and gestured toward the front door. “Go on.”

“You want me to…” Lindsay stared up at Dane, then glanced at the door. He hadn’t been out of the

house since Dane had brought him here from the Institute. At the Institute, of course, he hadn’t been able to go out at all. Thinking back on his childhood, he’d never been allowed to make his own way before. He

swallowed hard. “All right.” He could do this—if he could figure out where they were starting from. He

headed for the door, pulling on his coat and pulling up the hood.

Outside, the world was shades of gray. They were standing on the front step of a tall, narrow house

across the street from a small park. The skyline was visible above the trees. Dane stopped behind Lindsay,

pulling the door shut. “Train stops a few blocks south,” he said quietly. “To the right.”

“Thank you.” Lindsay shoved his hands into his pockets, finding his gloves. He pulled them out and

tugged them on as he walked, keeping his head ducked down so that, between his long hair and the hood,

his face was hidden from view.

Dane followed him like a shadow, silently. He let Lindsay lead the way to the stop. Even when he

pulled out the pass cards for them, he made no comment, just tapped Lindsay on the sleeve with his before

they took the stairs down.

Lindsay clutched the card in his hand, feeling the edges dig into his skin through the leather gloves.

At the bottom of the stairs, he had to push his hood back to see, looking around to get his bearings. A map on the wall told him which train he needed—C train, south, to Brooklyn, off at West 4th.

He headed for the correct bay of turnstiles, swiping his card and pushing through. The crowd crushed

in all around him, everyone moving in the same direction. His breath came short, panicked, but he kept

moving, walking over to stand behind the broad swath of yellow that marked the edge of the cement aisle

where the train would stop. He held himself taut, trying not to shake with fear.

Lindsay almost threw himself aside when an arm slid around his shoulders before he realized it was

Dane. Dane said nothing as he pulled Lindsay to his side. When someone bumped him again, Lindsay

tensed and tucked himself up against Dane. He could feel Dane rumble, deep and threatening, almost too

low to hear. Dane didn’t scold or criticize Lindsay, and the threat must have worked, because Lindsay

suddenly had some breathing room even as Dane shifted to let him huddle closer. After a moment, a big

hand ran over Lindsay’s hair, touching gently and soothing.

Lindsay couldn’t quite keep himself from leaning into the petting. It felt good, helped him to calm

down enough that he could breathe more evenly. Dane’s face could have been interpreted as stern or dire,

when he took a moment to glance down, but the look in his eyes was nothing of the sort.

www.samhainpublishing.com

33

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

Dane tilted his head, listening to something far off. “Train coming,” he said simply, as though

Lindsay wasn’t snuggled close to him and his big hand wasn’t petting Lindsay’s hair, as though Lindsay

hadn’t been afraid in the first place.

Lindsay closed his eyes, nodding, and tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against Dane’s

chest again. He’d have to get on the train, just as crowded and even more closed in. Trapped. He tried to

focus on the way Dane’s hand felt in his hair, letting the soothing sensations keep him from panicking

again.

The train came in with a roar and a blast of air, then the doors opened and Dane let Lindsay get on

board. It was crowded, but Lindsay managed to find a pair of empty seats. He took the one near the

window, glancing up to make sure Dane was there.

Dane slid into the seat next to him. It was like putting up a wall between Lindsay and the rest of the

world. Dane slipped his arm around Lindsay without comment and shifted to get as comfortable as he could

with his long legs cramped by the seat in front of them.

It was ridiculous how comforting Dane’s presence was, how soothing his touch was. Lindsay leaned

into Dane, snuggling close, and sighed softly. Ridiculous, but it worked. He trusted Dane not to let

anything happen to him. No one was going to steal him and take him back if Dane was right there, Lindsay

was sure of it.

Dane acted as though it wasn’t happening at all, as though he wasn’t cuddling Lindsay to him, or at

least as if it was the most normal thing in the world. There was something wary about him; his attention

seemed to be everywhere but on Lindsay. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and he let Lindsay hide against

him the whole way.

The quick and nearly incomprehensible announcement, “WesFoahStreet. SpringstreetNextStop,”

came just as the dark of the tunnel receded and the train lost speed coming into the station.

“I think…I think this is our stop,” he said quietly, standing up. He hoped he was right.

When Dane got up, people moved out of his way, even the thuggish teens heckling a pair of

disapproving-looking older men in suits. It didn’t seem to be in his nature to project aggression—Dane

actually moved with consideration and grace—but few people did anything but draw away from him. He

stepped aside for Lindsay to go ahead.

Lindsay moved as quickly as he could, slipping out through the briefly open doors. He could feel the

warmth of Dane’s body right behind him as the conductor’s voice echoed out of the train,

“StandCleaOfTheClosinDaws,” and an arm reached out to make the warning a reality.

The doors were barely closed before the train headed out of the station, picking up speed as it went.

Lindsay looked around, getting his bearings.

34

www.samhainpublishing.com

Tatterdemalion

The station was cavernous, large and dirty, with the same sweat-piss smell that was ubiquitous in the

city. Lindsay let himself be swept along by the crowd of people heading for the exits. He knew, this time,

that Dane was with him, right behind him as he swiped his MetroCard and pushed past the turnstiles.

Once they were above ground, Dane shook himself, a subtle version of a dog throwing off water. The

cold, damp winter air was cleaner, but still heavy with car exhaust and the smells of vendors, smokers, and the various perfumes people wore.

Lindsay pulled his hood up, staying close to Dane. “Why Washington Square Park?” he asked,

peeking from beneath the shadow of his hood.

“It’s a good place to practice.” Dane scowled at Lindsay a moment longer before continuing, “When

you can take care of yourself, you’ll need to look around.”

Keeping hidden felt safe. Lindsay didn’t want to be noticed. He could be seen and recognized and

taken back to where he’d been when Dane had found him. He ducked his head, shoving his gloved hands

into his pockets, and headed out into the park. He might have to put the hood back later, but he wasn’t

doing it now. Scowl or no scowl.

Dane didn’t put his arm around Lindsay again, but he always managed to be in reach of Lindsay, no

matter where his attention went.

The park wasn’t the way Lindsay remembered it. The last time he’d been here, the fountain had been

dismantled and construction crews had been everywhere. Today, there was more grass and the fountain had

moved. The feel of the place was the same, though. People were still playing chess at tables lined up along the benches in the southwest corner, and Scrabble in the northwest corner.

With NYU so nearby, the game players weren’t the only ones hanging around, the park was crowded

with people Lindsay’s own age. If things had gone differently, perhaps he might have been one of them.

But things hadn’t gone differently, and he was here with Dane, who made him feel safer than his father

ever had.

Lindsay made his way past the crowd that had gathered to watch a street performer juggling a knife,

an apple, and something Lindsay couldn’t make out, maybe a cell phone. He sat on the rim of the fountain,

careful to keep his feet out of the water. He didn’t know what Dane wanted him to do, but at least there, he could focus on what Dane was saying enough to learn.

“When was the last time you used your magic without any interference?” Dane sprawled next to

Lindsay, his attention on the world around them. His voice was low, but carried right to Lindsay’s ears.

Without any interference? Lindsay ducked his head, staring at his shoes, thinking about it. The

Institute…they’d drugged him, there. What they’d used had pushed his magic down too far for him to

reach. Until the end, when she had given it back. He remembered the rush, the feeling of being whole, but it hadn’t lasted. “I don’t know. I think at the Institute. At the end. But there was something… I don’t know

what you mean by interference, I guess. Maybe before.”

www.samhainpublishing.com

35

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

“No drugs. No artifacts.” Dane stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “Just you.

Remember what you did?”

Lindsay thought back, remembering the last time. The first time. “There was a party. My mother’s

friends. Society stuff, not military. My father was there. I didn’t want to go to the party, didn’t want to be paraded like a show dog. He insisted. He has this way of phrasing things so I know how much of a failure I

am, how much he wishes I wasn’t his son.”

Lindsay looked at his feet again. He didn’t want to talk about this, any of it. “I got mad. I didn’t even

mean to do it. I didn’t know I could. It just happened. He was making that face he always makes when he’s

about to tell me how much trouble I am, how much trouble they go through to fix me. I told him to go to

hell. And then…and then he was on fire. I could see it, sort of, flickering around him like shadows, eating at his skin. His face got the worst of it, I think. I didn’t realize, at first, what I’d done. That it was me. He was screaming and screaming and my mother came running to see what was wrong, but she didn’t see the

fire, and that’s when I knew.”

“Okay.” Dane nodded slowly. “Make me think something…whatever it is.”

Lindsay looked back at Dane, biting his lip, but Dane didn’t seem afraid in the least. “Really?” He

didn’t want to screw up and hurt Dane.

“I’m a big boy, and it probably won’t do much. Seems it works best on people you hate, and I’m

thinking you don’t hate me enough.”

Lindsay didn’t hate Dane at all. He didn’t say so, though. He just nodded and thought about what to

do. He felt around for his magic, inside himself and pushed it out, focusing on Dane, trying to make himself disappear. Everyone else could see him, but to Dane’s eyes, he wouldn’t be there. If his magic was

working.

After a moment, Dane chuckled softly and reached out to stroke Lindsay’s hair. “Glad you’re still

there,” he said in a low voice.

“Can you see me?” Lindsay asked, frowning. What had he done wrong this time?

“No. But I know you’re there.” Dane’s fingers slid over Lindsay’s cheek. “Barely.”

Lindsay’s magic faded when he stopped paying attention to it, focusing instead on the feel of Dane’s

fingers sliding over his skin. He closed his eyes as he turned toward the touch.

“There you are.” Dane’s fingers pulled away. “Good work. Ready to do more?”

Lindsay sat up, embarrassed at how he’d reacted. Dane hadn’t meant it like that, and he knew Dane

could sense his responses. “I guess,” he murmured, looking away.

“That guy there.” Dane nodded toward a tall young man goofing around with his friends. “He’s

wearing lace-up boots—make him think they’re untied.”

Lindsay watched the man for a moment, and then focused on him, just as he’d focused on Dane. He

imagined his focus a thread that his magic would follow, affecting only the person on the other end. He

36

www.samhainpublishing.com

Tatterdemalion

pushed his magic out, and with it, the idea of untied boots, laces dangling and tangling under the man’s

feet.

The young man stumbled, laughing, when his friend shoved him. Then he paused, crouching to tie his

laces, miming it perfectly, making all his friends laugh.

When the boots were tied, Lindsay relaxed, letting his magic go. He looked at Dane for approval. He

hoped he’d done it right. He wanted to please Dane, even if it meant using his magic.

Dane’s usually inscrutable expression showed definite approval. “Nice. You getting a feel for it?”

Lindsay scuffed one foot against the cement, nodding. “I think so.” It wasn’t so hard. One step at a

time, one piece at a time. He wasn’t so stupid he couldn’t manage that, no matter what his father said.