Текст книги "Tatterdemalion "

Автор книги: Anah Crow

Соавторы: Dianne Fox
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“You haven’t touched him, have you?”

Dane wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer. He damn well knew that Lindsay was off-limits, for

more reasons than Cyrus’s fretfulness. But the way Cyrus said it made his hackles rise. His too-sharp teeth ground against each other and he forced the anger down. He knew when he was being baited.

“If you’d let me out to do my job, I’d have found Jonas already,” Dane snapped, instead. “And I’d

already have a way to kill him.” All the fucking in the world, no matter who it was, wouldn’t make up for

missing out on that. “Let me go.”

“No.” Cyrus shook his head so that his hair spilled around his shoulders in fresh disarray. Dane

opened his mouth to protest, but Cyrus silenced him with a gesture. “We will be watching him. We must be

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certain who holds his leash. We may even discover where they are. You and the boy will be going to

Ezqel.”

“Send Vivian.” Dane threw the computer over onto Cyrus’s desk where it landed with a crash, and he

pushed himself to his feet. “Send Kristan. Go yourself. I don’t care. I’m not leaving you alone while Jonas is hunting in my city.” He’d had about enough of this. Cyrus was his responsibility, not Lindsay, not

anything else. “Even if I did, that’s the last place I’d go.”

The conversation was over. Dane stalked to the door and tried to wrench it open, but it wouldn’t

budge. The knob turned, the metal creaked with strain under his hand, but a great force resisted him.

“Let me out, Cyrus.” The hair stood up on the nape of Dane’s neck and a snarl rose in the back of his

throat. He hated this show of power and, in the moment, he hated Cyrus.

“This is too important for your feelings to matter here,” Cyrus said simply. “What was between you

and Ezqel, what is between you and I, what is to come between you and Jonas, none of it matters.” Dane

turned slowly to see Cyrus looking at him with rare sympathy. “You know it already. The extent of events

makes your opinion on this irrelevant. We must know what they know of us. We must know what they

have done to the boy.”

Dane rattled the door one more time, jerking hard. The wood screamed in protest, but all he did was

make a muscle in his shoulder part under the strain. His flesh tingled as it repaired itself.

“Why Ezqel?” Dane knew there were other people who were knowledgeable in similar magics; he’d

gone to them in the past, for his own affairs as well as Cyrus’s.

“Ezqel stands a greater chance of healing him. And you.” For a moment, Cyrus sounded like he had

once when he was younger, when he’d looked at Dane out of a face as pale and unlined as Lindsay’s. “You

can refuse Ezqel until you die. Your death will be needless, but you will at least have your pride. You

cannot make that choice for the boy. I wish to think you would not. I need you to go. Don’t let me down.”

Dane sagged against the inside of the door, letting his head fall back against it. “Have I ever?” he

asked quietly.

“Not yet,” Cyrus murmured.

“And I won’t,” Dane said, meeting Cyrus’s eyes and refusing to look away from the darkness there.

“Not for some days. Isn’t that right?”

Cyrus’s expression shifted to one of real sorrow, and Dane regretted speaking, because Cyrus had

enough pain. “I forget how well you hear. Dane…”

Dane shook his head and pushed away from the door. “Don’t say anything.” Whatever it was, he

didn’t want to know. “Did Viv get our tickets?” He picked up his computer and took his seat in his chair

again. Why he bothered to fight, after all these years, was beyond him. They were locked in their dance.

“You’ll find them in your account.” Cyrus was still watching Dane, but Dane turned his attention to

making sure the computer wasn’t broken.

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The door swung open as though nothing had been amiss and Vivian stepped in. “I have his

documents,” she said brightly. There was an envelope in her hand and she set it on Cyrus’s desk. “I think

we’re all set.” Her smile dimmed when she saw Dane’s face, but she turned back to Cyrus without

comment.

“Go get the boy, then.” Cyrus picked up the envelope and sorted through the contents. “We will see if

he likes my plans any better.”

Lindsay was still huddled in Dane’s chair when Vivian found him. Outwardly, he was reading the

paper, but inside, he was trying to get Kristan’s words to stop echoing in his head. Instead of pictures in the paper, all he could see were the bruises on her skin where Dane’s mouth must have been.

Suddenly, he hated her with a passion that did nothing to keep him from hurting as well. He wanted to

hate Dane too, but he didn’t have it in him. It wasn’t Dane’s fault that Lindsay was undesirable. Thin. Pale.

Wrong-bodied. Broken. Weak. Dane had been good to him for no reason at all—that made him better than

Lindsay had dreamed, and it made Lindsay a fool.

“There you are, Lindsay.” Vivian’s voice was as bright as the sunshine. She was good to him, like

Dane had been. Unlike Kristan, she never made Lindsay uncomfortable. “How are you today?”

Lindsay peered over the shield of the newspaper. “I’m fine. Much better. Thank you.” It wasn’t really

a lie. Nothing was wrong with him other than his broken magic and his foolishness.

“Cyrus would like to talk to you.”

Lindsay swallowed hard, fighting tightness in his chest and pricking in his eyes. “Have I done

something wrong?” It felt like that kind of day.

“No!” Vivian gave him a sweet smile. “Quite the opposite. Cyrus needs you. Go on up to his office.”

She gestured toward the stairs. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

Soothed by Vivian’s reassurances, Lindsay put his newspaper on the table beside Dane’s chair and

stood up. “Thank you,” he said softly, heading for the stairs. He didn’t want to make Cyrus wait.

Lindsay hadn’t expected to find Dane already in Cyrus’s room, looking disheveled and sleepy. He

was sprawled in a large chair near Cyrus’s desk, attention on a computer that seemed small in his hands.

The sight of him made Lindsay’s heart lift until it collided with reality and tumbled down again, bruised, all in the space of a single beat.

Cyrus looked up as Lindsay came in, dark eyes narrowed. “I have procured a passport for you under

the name of Cross,” he said without preamble. “It is necessary for you to travel to Germany to meet with a

colleague of mine.”

It took Lindsay a moment to process what Cyrus was saying. He’d been distracted by the realization

that Dane had had sex with Kristan and then rolled out of bed and come in here without showering. Dane

was sex-mussed and half-dressed, and it looked so good. That was how Dane would look, if…

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Lindsay wrenched his attention back to Cyrus. “When?”

“Your flight will leave this evening.” Cyrus handed a large envelope over to Lindsay. “In there, you

will find your official documents and all of the information you will need for the trip. Your flight will take you to Zurich. From there, you will travel to the Black Forest. Dane will be accompanying you.” He cast a

glance over at Dane, who looked back and sighed.

That hurt. With all the time Dane had spent taking care of Lindsay, it was a painful shock to realize

that Dane didn’t want to go with him on this trip. After Kristan’s announcement, Lindsay felt like he had to question everything about his interactions with Dane, like he’d misunderstood everything up until now.

“I’ll be ready,” he murmured. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Ezqel is a very old mage, older than I.” Cyrus looked so ancient and crow-like that it was hard to

imagine anyone being older. Casting another glare at Dane, Cyrus continued. “You will submit yourself to

whatever investigations Ezqel chooses to pursue. In this manner, we hope that he will be able to mend you.

And you will address him with the utmost respect.” Another sharp glance at Dane, met with a roll of

Dane’s eyes, and Cyrus turned his attention to Lindsay.

Lindsay felt sick at the idea that this man, Ezqel, was going to…to investigate what had been done to him. Even the prospect of being healed didn’t lessen the horrible implications. “All right.”

“This is important.” There was some sympathy in Cyrus’s voice. “You are not the first to suffer in this

way. You will not be the last.”

“I’ll do it.” What Cyrus was saying made sense, but it didn’t make the idea any more appealing. He

wasn’t sure how he was going to survive it. This morning, he would have told himself that he could lean on

Dane. Now, he didn’t even have that.

Cyrus fixed Dane with another look. “There is no time to waste. The dog and the girl will be

searching for you. You must get to Ezqel at once.”

Lindsay didn’t know who those people were. He didn’t know so many things. Nodding, he clenched

the envelope in his hands to keep them from shaking.

“A car will be here for you at five. If you have any questions, you can ask Dane or Vivian.” Cyrus

flicked a hand toward the door, dismissing him.

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Chapter Five

It was cold and miserable in the forest. The Black Forest, Cyrus had said, but Lindsay thought it

looked mostly gray. He trudged along behind Dane, carrying a backpack filled with his bare necessities.

The steps that didn’t land in mushy puddles nearly landed him on his ass, thanks to the ice hiding beneath

the wet snow.

Lindsay was terrified, going to face Ezqel without even the assurance that Dane cared for him. How

he could’ve become so dependant on something he hadn’t even known existed, in such a short period of

time, was beyond him. That, too, was terrifying.

Dane should have been in a good mood, out in the wild, but he wasn’t. Even having known him only a

short time, Lindsay could tell. There was a point at which Dane stopped being inscrutable and started being grumpy and that point was long past. The ground slid away under Dane’s feet as he headed down a ravine.

He rode the slide gracefully, managing to stay standing, until he could stop himself against a tree and watch Lindsay’s descent.

Lindsay was smaller, lighter, and had the advantage of seeing Dane go first. He stopped at the top and

looked at the tilted trees dotting the descent. Biting his lip, he sent himself toward the first tree at a skittering run-slide. He caught the tree with both hands, took a breath, and aimed for the next. The trees kept him upright. He was already frozen to the core, and landing in the snow would only make it worse.

Dane didn’t seem to notice the cold, and he didn’t seem to get tired. He was an inexorable animal,

with only Lindsay keeping him from eating up the miles. He kept moving and leapt the icy, mucky stream

cutting through the bottom of the ravine. There, he waited to help Lindsay cross.

Lindsay was shivering and exhausted by the time he got to the bottom. “How…” He had to wait and

swallow down his shivers before he could speak again. “How do I get over?”

“Jump.” Dane grabbed a sapling in one hand and extended the other. “To me. I’ll catch you.”

Lindsay swallowed hard and nodded. He eyed the distance and took a running leap, the snow sucking

at his feet with each step. He almost didn’t make it, but Dane grabbed his hand and hauled him in. He hit

Dane in the chest and Dane let go of the tree to wrap the other arm around him, holding him up. “Okay?”

he rumbled.

Shivering hard, Lindsay nodded against Dane’s chest. He was gasping for breath, every exhalation

coming out in a haze of fog. “’m all r-r-right,” he chattered. Dane was so warm. He didn’t want to step

away.

Tatterdemalion

“There used to be a hunter’s cottage around here,” Dane said. “We’ll stop when we find it.” He

nodded up the steep hill that lay ahead of them. “Up you go.”

Lindsay nodded again and, reluctantly, trudged up the hill. The idea of a reward at the end, though,

that there would be a place to stop and warm up—which didn’t even feel possible at this point—was a

relief.

It was growing dark when Dane pointed out the cottage up another hill. The little building was

crumbling under the weight of time and the elements; the wood roof was thick with moss that was

disappearing under a fresh layer of snow. “This is it. Not much, but it’s here. No fire, no magic in Ezqel’s woods. We’ll manage without.”

A soft whimper slipped out before Lindsay could stop himself. No fire. No warmth. He nodded to let

Dane know he understood. He was shivering too much to speak.

Dane reached out, and Lindsay took his hand for the last yards up to the cottage. It was slow going

toward the top but, finally, they were at the door. Lindsay went inside and slipped his pack off. He dug

through to find dry clothes. If he couldn’t be warm, at least he could be dry.

Dane followed him in and dropped the heavy pack he was carrying. The first thing he did was take out

a sleeping bag and lay it out in the most sheltered corner.

“Over here.”

He hung a tarp by pushing tent spikes between cracks in the stone walls and floor, to give some more

shelter and to keep in the warmth of their bodies. It was nearly black in the hut, but he set a light up under the tarp. “You’ll sleep here. Settle in, I’ll be back.” With that, he was gone.

Lindsay eyed the tarp doubtfully, but slid underneath with his clothes. He wriggled out of his wet

clothes and pushed them out from under the tarp, then pulled on the clean, dry ones.

When Dane came back a few minutes later, he pulled out a chemical hot pack and cracked it carefully,

then shook it. He picked up Lindsay’s sleeping bag on the way over to the corner. Crouching, he offered

both to Lindsay. “Tuck the hot pack under your coat, but over your shirt. It’ll get hot enough to burn, but you need it. Then get yourself in the sleeping bag. I’ll bring you dinner.”

“Are you going to come in too?” Lindsay asked. It felt strange to be so idle while Dane was busy

working.

“Not likely.” Dane tugged a foil-sealed meal pack out of his backpack and gave it a twist to start the

chemical heating process. His expression, shadowed by his loose hair, was almost angry. “You can eat that

in a few minutes. Let it warm. And drink this.” He passed over a bottle of water. “You need to rest. I can

wait.”

The temperature was dropping so fast that Lindsay was shivering in spite of the shelter and the dry

clothes. He worried about Dane not resting—Dane hadn’t slept during the drive from the airport to the

forest’s edge either—but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have the energy.

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“Be right back.” Dane left Lindsay alone again, ducking out into the heavy snowfall to prowl the

woods as the wind picked up.

Lindsay huddled in the shelter and listened to the wind howling around the little hut as he ate. The

warmth felt wonderful after all the cold that had filled everything else today.

Nearly half an hour later, the door creaked open. Lindsay startled, scrambling out from the sleeping

bag, but he calmed quickly once he peeked out from under the tarp to see that it was Dane. In Dane’s arms

was a sapling bole to replace the long-lost bar for the door.

“Do you want me to do anything?” Lindsay was still shivering, but his words came out without

chattering.

“You need to rest and stay warm. It’s going to keep getting colder.” Dane shed his wet clothes,

hanging them up to dry on a line as he did, until he was stripped naked. Barefoot, as though the icy stone

floor didn’t bother him at all, he padded over to his pack to get out dry things to wear.

Lindsay was cold, but he wasn’t dead. Dane was beautiful and Lindsay had never seen him naked

before. Dane’s body was human in form, better than human, the perfect human animal. Lindsay watched

Dane until he realized what he was doing. “It gets colder than this?”

“Much.” Dane got dressed as far as his jeans and stopped, giving Lindsay a stern look. “Lie down.

You should be beat. Are you warm yet?”

Lindsay frowned and shook his head. “A little? The heat packs are helping some.” They were

radiating heat, and his body was soaking it up, but it didn’t feel like he was generating any heat of his own.

Dane stood there for a long moment, head tilted as though he were thinking hard about something.

Then, obviously having made up his mind, he shook himself and got moving again. He collected his boots

and things he would need if he were getting dressed in a hurry and lined them up neatly outside the little

haven where Lindsay was resting. “Move,” he muttered, ducking in to join Lindsay.

Lindsay moved. He skittered under the tarp and made room for Dane. A lot of room. Dane was big.

And half-naked, not that that made Lindsay want to move any farther away than he absolutely had to. He watched as Dane grabbed the sleeping bag Lindsay had been curled up in and twitched it over on top of the

other that had been intended for Dane.

Dane coaxed Lindsay into the top sleeping bag first, and slid in after him. He was quiet and quite

certain of what he wanted. Lindsay was nervous, apprehension and anticipation muddled together in his

belly, when he realized what Dane meant to do. He let himself be moved like a doll, though, and snuggled

against Dane’s chest. When Dane was done, they were both tucked into the one sleeping bag with Lindsay

almost lying completely on Dane’s big, warm body with Dane’s strong arms around him to keep him warm.

The spare sleeping bag under them kept the chill of the stone away from their bodies.

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“Now, go to sleep,” Dane said firmly. He was warm and smelled so good and was Dane—the source

of all the good things in Lindsay’s life. Suddenly, Lindsay felt all too warm, in all the wrong ways. He blushed fiercely, trying to ignore his arousal.

Dane stroked Lindsay’s hair soothingly, ignoring or oblivious to how much Lindsay was turned on by

the closeness. Lindsay closed his eyes and focused on the petting, letting it soothe him. He was worn out

and that was enough to put him to sleep before he embarrassed himself further.

Lindsay was too exhausted to wake quickly, but his body was awake long before his mind. He was

still pressed up against Dane and he was so hard. It wasn’t just a morning erection. He was surrounded by

Dane’s smell and warmth and body, and he couldn’t help himself. Lindsay didn’t know if he’d ever felt so

much need all at once in his life. Still half-asleep, he rocked his hips, pushing his body against Dane,

instinctively seeking the friction that would get him off.

Dane murmured sleepily and pulled Lindsay closer. That just made it better. Worse. Something.

Lindsay woke up a little more as he writhed, but he didn’t stop. He needed…fuck, he needed to come. He

kept moving on instinct, his breath coming faster. Dane shifted against him instead of pulling away, making everything feel incredible. Lindsay wasn’t awake enough to be ashamed as he rode Dane’s thigh, desperate

to come.

When Lindsay came, he felt so good, lazy and sated, until the rapidly cooling come in his pants

brought him back to reality. Horror jerked him awake, to full awareness of what he’d done. Oh, God. He tensed up, ducking his head against Dane’s chest to hide his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling horrified at himself and, on top of that, afraid that Dane would be

angry at him. He didn’t want Dane to be angry at him. He was alone in this forest except for Dane. Dane

held Lindsay’s life in his hands in every way, and Lindsay had gone and done that.

“Hm?” Dane had the decency not to laugh or recoil in disgust. “Enh. No bother,” he rumbled. “It

happens.”

Lindsay winced, but he was grateful Dane didn’t seem to be angry. He knew Dane didn’t want him.

He shifted stiffly, trying to roll off Dane with as little contact between his groin and Dane’s body as

possible.

Dane unzipped the sleeping bag to let Lindsay out. “You put a coat on,” he warned. “It’ll still be

damn cold out there. And get another hot pack from my bag if you need it.”

“I’ll be all right.” Lindsay didn’t need a hot pack. He did need his coat, though. He wriggled up to the

top of the sleeping bag so he could reach it. Dane stayed very still while Lindsay disentangled himself,

much to Lindsay’s relief. It was still freezing out when Lindsay got free, but it didn’t matter. He needed to flee before he had to see the expression on Dane’s face over what he’d done.

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Lindsay would have been overwhelmed with shame and loathing, unable to meet Dane’s eyes, except

that Dane didn’t seem to care what he’d done. In fact, Dane was in a remarkably good mood and acted as

though nothing at all had happened. It was a gorgeous morning. The sun was shining and the sky was blue,

promising a beautiful day of melting snow and hard going. At least Lindsay wouldn’t be so cold.

They packed up and Dane offered Lindsay his hand as they made their way downhill. That almost

made everything better right then, when Lindsay took Dane’s hand and Dane gave him that sharp, jagged

smile that showed in his dark eyes. They walked out to a clearing and sat on fallen logs in the sun to eat

their breakfast. They caught sight of a wandering doe, a few birds and a skinny, irritable squirrel.

Lindsay picked at the fortified chocolate pudding he was supposed to be eating and nibbled a cookie,

watching Dane from under his lashes. Dane’s attention was on the far verge of the clearing, where the doe

had disappeared. Maybe Dane could still see it. Dane knew so much, saw so much, it was hardly worth

trying to hide anything from him. Lindsay took a drink of water and steeled himself to say something, to

clear the air.

“Dane, I…” He trailed off as Dane’s predatory stare shifted to him. It should have been frightening,

but embarrassingly it brought another surge of desire. “About this morning, I…” Maybe he’d just die now

and not have to see Ezqel or finish this sentence. Please.

Dane rumbled, shaking his head. The wind used that as an excuse to make his hair swirl in all

directions. To Lindsay’s relief and shame and confusion, Dane was smiling, almost laughing.

“You’re young,” he said, and the two words were so full of affection that even Lindsay couldn’t miss

it. And he could see that, as far as Dane was concerned, that was the end of the matter.

For a moment, Lindsay had a glimpse of himself as Dane must see him: funny, awkward, skinny,

young. Dane’s little bunny. Lindsay remembered watching wolves on television, the indifferent alpha male

dozing while a puppy gnawed and wrestled his tail. Lindsay was young. That was all. Dane’s world was

full of allowances for the likes of Lindsay.

Lindsay realized that he’d been making himself miserable over nothing. Dane hadn’t been treating

him any differently. He was the one who’d pulled away from the comfort Dane offered. And now, Dane

was offering forgiveness for even that. The easy acceptance, the promise of almost infinite forgiveness, was unfamiliar and comforting at once.

Dane returned to tracking whatever hidden things were moving in the distance. Lindsay turned his

attention to his food. Suddenly, he was hungry. He polished everything off with more appetite than he’d

had in days.

“We’re not too far off.” Dane squinted up at the sky and looked about as though the trees made sense

to him. “We’ll be able to make the next shelter before nightfall without any trouble.” He stood and

shouldered his pack. He was carrying most of their gear, with Lindsay left to manage the necessities he

would need if they were separated.

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“Does this one have indoor plumbing?” Lindsay asked, laughing. “Or maybe a working heater?” He

was in better spirits now, full-bellied and forgiven. He got up and followed Dane, settling his pack on his back.

Dane snorted at him and held out his hand to help Lindsay across an icy patch as the ground sloped

downward. The wind blew in his face, pulling back his hair and making him look almost human except for

the fangs that showed when he smiled.

“Come on. We need to make good time. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can have your

plumbing and heating.” Ahead of them, the way Dane had chosen to go sloped sharply down into a

shadowed gorge thick with trees.

“Bribery will get you everywhere,” Lindsay said, still laughing.

Seconds later, Dane’s head jerked up and, without warning, he threw Lindsay away from him hard

enough that Lindsay tumbled down the hill. Something large and dark hit Dane with a dull crunch, taking

him down the slope too. They crashed through brush and trees and muck, and the air was full of snarling.

A tree stopped Lindsay near the bottom and he scrambled to his feet, aching all over, just in time to

see Dane go past him, quickly followed by a dark blur Lindsay could only assume was one of the people

Cyrus had said would be searching for them. Not the girl. The dog. Jonas.

There was nowhere for Lindsay to run, except toward them, so he did.

Dane hit the base of a tree with a sickening crack and Jonas rolled off of him, his momentum carrying

him farther. Landing on his feet, Jonas laughed and bared his bloody teeth at Lindsay. “Wait your turn.”

Dane was struggling to get up. The front of his sweater was turning dark with blood from a gaping

wound in his neck. “Run,” he growled at Lindsay. He shed his pack as Jonas lunged for him and his fist

caught Jonas in the jaw with a splintering sound.

Jonas’s long claws rammed into Dane’s chest, coming out Dane’s back as his weight carried them

both down. Dane got both arms around Jonas, his own claws tearing through Jonas’s clothing over the

kidneys. Jonas howled, sinking the claws of his free hand into Dane’s left side as though he were digging

for Dane’s heart. Dane made no effort to get away. He dug in deeper, snarling, “Run.” The sound of Jonas’s bones shattering was sickening.

Run? Where? Lindsay wanted to scream at Dane. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t leave Dane. At least

with Dane, he stood a chance of survival out here. His magic might be broken, but it worked a little. He

thrust all his magic in one direction, at Jonas, and he had only one thing on his mind: Stop.

Jonas stopped. Lindsay almost lost his grip on his magic, he was so startled. Jonas was keening in

agony, head flung back, then Dane’s teeth tore Jonas’s throat open and the noise stopped. Dane flung Jonas

away from him like a doll and Jonas fell to earth, thrashing and clawing at his skull, coloring the snow red with the blood spewing from his neck.

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Lindsay’s sight was blurring, but he gripped his broken magic tighter, feeling it cut him in return, and

used it to pour agony into Jonas’s powerful form. Dane wasn’t done either. He dropped to all fours and

moved so fast, a blur, ready to finish the fight.

Lindsay felt a surge of joy and hate so strong it made him stand straight and tall. The pain he felt was

nothing and, suddenly, he understood Dane better than ever. He wanted to kill. Jonas was down, weak and

broken, and then Dane was on him.

Jonas unfolded like a switchblade and caught Dane in midair, even as Dane twisted to avoid him,

sinking his claws into Dane’s torso. Dane made a sick, low noise like all the air had gone out of him as

Jonas lifted him overhead and threw him toward Lindsay, trailing black blood and flesh. Dane landed face-

down in the snow at Lindsay’s feet and Lindsay’s magic shuddered in his grasp.

Dane tried to get to his knees, but he wasn’t getting up. Lindsay couldn’t help him—all his attention

was still on killing Jonas. All Lindsay could spare Dane was a glance and a cry: “Dane! ”

Dane managed to drag himself toward Lindsay before his arms couldn’t hold him up any longer. His

hands gathered up fistfuls of snow and dirt as though he was going to pull himself up again, but then he

sighed and was still at Lindsay’s feet.

Jonas should have been incapacitated, should have been dead, even, but he still lurched toward

Lindsay, eyes wild, head at a strange angle. Terrified, Lindsay backed away even though Dane was limp at

his feet, dying. There was no fear in Jonas’s eyes, just a wild light as he lunged at Lindsay. He fell short on the first attempt, going down in the snow. Somehow, Dane’s bloody hand was clamped around his ankle,

but Jonas’s fevered eyes never left Lindsay’s face.

Lindsay threw himself out of reach, trying to keep his magic locked on Jonas through the pain of its

brokenness, but he caught his heel on a root and lost control. The weight of his pack dragged him backward

and, as he fell, his magic snapping back to shatter his consciousness, he thought he saw someone standing

beyond Jonas.

The figure was dark and still and ominous like a spire against the pale sky. Help us. Lindsay tried to speak, to beg, for Dane if not for himself, but then everything went black.

“Such a little thing for so much fuss.”

Lindsay’s vision cleared like a veil was pulled away from his eyes, and he was looking up into an

ageless fae face framed by a fall of deep red hair. The man took his hand away from Lindsay’s forehead

and straightened, leaving Lindsay staring at the long expanse of his black robes. A snarling, feral noise brought Lindsay upright before he could think to move carefully so he didn’t make his throbbing head hurt

worse. He scrambled behind the fae man, almost falling again, shaking.

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Jonas was less than twenty feet away, pawing at the ground and tossing his head. He turned, on all

fours, snuffling the air wetly and licking as though to taste it. There was no light in his eyes, he looked empty. His gaze passed over Lindsay and the man as though they weren’t there at all.

“What…?” Lindsay’s voice was a thin waver.

“He can’t see you. This is the price for hunting in my forest.” Ezqel, it had to be Ezqel, held his hand

out to Lindsay without looking. “He will not dwell under any roof or know himself until he is found by one

who knows his true name.” The words sounded like more than words, like Ezqel was branding the world