Текст книги "Tatterdemalion "

Автор книги: Anah Crow

Соавторы: Dianne Fox
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

cry himself to sleep again. He knew what task Izia had been put to and he didn’t want to think about it. He slipped his hands into Taniel’s and let himself be led.

Taniel took him out into the sitting room, to the staircase that wrapped around it. At the head of the

staircase, lamps filled a loft with golden light. Izia came to meet them as they were going up. She looked

ragged and exhausted.

“There you are,” she said, giving Lindsay a smile. “I was coming to find you.” She waited at the top

step for them to reach her. “The room is ready for you.”

The loft was decorated with two plush chairs and a delicate table between them, and there was a

single door that Izia opened as she went ahead. “We only have the one guest room, so I’m afraid you’ll

have to share the bed,” she said in low tones.

Lindsay tensed and tried to stop, but Taniel drew him on in spite of his balking. Who would he be

sharing the bed with? Another visitor? Dane’s corpse? He felt sick at the idea of anyone near him and it felt like any strangeness was possible in this magical house.

The room wasn’t spacious, but it was big enough for a large, four-post bed, a chair by the fire, and a

writing desk and chair. It was just like one would find in a bed-and-breakfast, except that the furniture was probably centuries old. A fire burning in the large fireplace was the only light.

Izia smiled at Lindsay again, beckoning him to come farther in, and looked over her shoulder at

Taniel. “There was some use left in him after all,” she said, sounding pleased with herself. “I have seen nothing like it. I’ve done nothing like it.”

The shadowed half of the bed was taken up by a large body with black hair spilling over the pillows.

Dane was sleeping, looking surprisingly young and peaceful. Someone had washed him and shaved him

and trimmed his hair, in addition to bandaging him and tucking him in bed with the blankets pulled halfway

up his chest and his big hands folded over them.

“He said you should be near the fire,” Izia said to Lindsay. “So you wouldn’t get cold.”

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Lindsay just stared. He couldn’t believe what Izia was saying, what he was seeing with his own eyes.

He’d have thought it was a hallucination, if he could have had those. It couldn’t be a dream. He didn’t

dream. “Dane?”

“Sometimes, there is more to life than a heartbeat.” Izia put her arm around his shoulders and

carefully led him into the room. “Especially in anyone old and powerful—even more so in one of Dane’s

kind. Still, he was almost gone. We put the body together so he could stay in it a little longer. He must have things to do, not the least of which seems to be picking fights with Ezqel.”

Taniel was on Lindsay’s other side, one hand under Lindsay’s elbow. “I have only read of things like

this.” He smiled at Izia. “This is marvelous. I must know all of what you did so I can record it.”

As soon as he could move, Lindsay shook off Taniel’s grip and rushed over to the bed, kneeling

beside it so he could watch Dane’s chest move with each breath. Was it real? Dane was breathing. Lindsay

bowed his head, resting his cheek against Dane’s warm shoulder for a moment while he tried to keep from

crying all over again.

“Thank you,” Lindsay whispered brokenly, curling one hand around Dane’s wrist to feel his pulse.

Dane was breathing, his heart was beating. He was warm and solid and very much alive, if pale and thinner

than that morning. Lindsay could see the sharp shadows along his jaw and collarbones.

“Ezqel does not take kindly to a death by violence in his woods, nor to the loss of an old student,” Izia

explained. “And you must know Dane’s magic. I am not surprised they sent Death with its tail between its

legs, if only in fear of their tempers. This one spent his few waking moments telling me how to take care of you, as soon as Ezqel wasn’t there to argue with. There’s water on the desk and food in the kitchen, but

don’t be surprised if he’s not interested yet. His insides are still putting themselves back together.”

Izia and Taniel stood just inside the door. Izia was leaning on Taniel, looking even more worn than

she had before. “Thank you,” Lindsay said again. “I’ll take care of him.” He wouldn’t make the same

mistakes again, not any of them.

“Sleep well, Lindsay. I will see you in the morning.” Taniel patted Izia’s hand on his arm. “Now, I

will take care of you, before you fall down.”

“Only because, if I do, no one will dictate today’s events to you?” Izia teased. “Call for me if you

need anything,” she said as Taniel led her out the door. “I’ll hear you if it’s me you’re asking for.”

Lindsay nodded, watching them leave. When they were gone, he carefully crawled onto the bed with

Dane, curling up beside him and wrapping the robe more tightly around himself. He watched Dane’s chest

rise and fall with each breath, daring to reach out and touch Dane’s warm, golden skin to reassure himself

that this was all real.

What does it matter if it’s not? If he was dreaming, he didn’t want to wake. If he was awake, he didn’t want to fall asleep. The only place he wanted to be was right here, watching Dane breathe. When his eyes

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stung with tears, Lindsay blinked them away as fast as he could so that he didn’t lose sight of Dane even

for a moment. In spite of himself, after some hours, he dozed off.

In the night, Dane roused enough to move, turning over and wrapping an arm around Lindsay. He

nuzzled into Lindsay’s hair, breathing in and grumbling contentedly. Lindsay slept in fits and spurts,

waking now and then to check if it had all been a lie. Each time, though, Dane was still there, still

breathing, his heart still beating against Lindsay’s cheek.

It wasn’t yet dawn when Dane woke enough to grumble over something in the here and now. “Under

the covers,” he grumped in Lindsay’s ear. “You’re going to freeze.” The fire had gone to ash and a sharp

chill had crept into the room.

Lindsay woke quickly at the sound of Dane’s voice. “’m all right,” he protested sleepily, but he

wriggled around until he’d managed to get himself under the covers anyway. He hadn’t wanted to disturb

Dane.

Dane sighed, low and contented, cuddling Lindsay to his chest. He was bare except for the bandages

around his belly, shoulder and neck. Izia obviously hadn’t felt the need to dress him.

Lindsay wasn’t dressed either, with just the robe between him and Dane’s bare body. He bit his lip

and snuggled closer, the robe slipping with his movements. His bare skin slid against Dane’s, making him

shiver, but he didn’t pull away. He wanted to be close, to be able to feel and hear Dane’s breath and his

heart.

Dane slid a leg over both of Lindsay’s, curling around him and wrapping him up in sleek, naked

warmth. He seemed purely content like this, oblivious to any impropriety.

Lindsay remembered, suddenly, the way Dane had pulled him closer, had cupped his ass and ground

up against him, in the sleeping bag yesterday morning. He’d been so focused on his own pleasure, and then

so utterly horrified at himself for not staying in control, he hadn’t been able to think. Now, though, he

recognized Dane’s actions for what they’d been—if not outright approval, then at least acceptance.

Lindsay gave in. If Dane didn’t want him so close, Dane could be the one to push him away. Dane

had never pushed him away yet. He always drew Lindsay in closer. Lindsay breathed in the clean, warm

smell of him and got a rumble of pleasure in return as Dane seemed to relax even more.

Lindsay drifted off again, after a while. When he woke, the first hints of light were streaking through

the curtains and his face was pressed into the curve of Dane’s neck and shoulder. He tucked himself in

closer, seeking comfort in the warmth of Dane’s body.

Eventually, reality caught up with Lindsay enough to make him whisper, unsteadily, “You were

dead.” Saying it aloud, even very softly, made everything more real. Losing Dane had been a harsh blow,

one Lindsay might not have recovered from.

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“Yes.” Dane exhaled slowly. Lindsay hadn’t meant to wake him, hadn’t known he was awake, or for

how long. “I was. I don’t recommend it. I’m sorry I left you alone.” He pressed his cheek to Lindsay’s hair.

Lindsay shook his head. Dane hadn’t let him down, just the opposite. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop him in

time.”

“Not your job, not your problem.” Dane’s tone was firm, even if his voice was thinner than usual.

“My place is to take care of you.”

“I don’t care,” Lindsay answered fiercely. Tears were already welling up in his eyes, and he tried to blink them back. He shouldn’t have said anything. Damn it. He was supposed to be done crying. “I don’t

care whose job is what. I don’t want you to die.”

Dane’s expression was inscrutable again for a moment, then it softened. “Okay. Fair enough.” He

cupped Lindsay’s cheek in his hand, rubbing gently with his thumb. Lindsay tilted his face into the caress, soothed to a rather embarrassing extent just by being touched. “I’ll do my best not to do it again,” Dane

promised solemnly. He kept petting gently while he coaxed Lindsay to lie down in the curve of his arm, on

his uninjured shoulder. There was blood spotting his bandages, but he didn’t seem to be in much pain.

“Thank you.” Lindsay settled, nuzzling at Dane’s hand and shoulder. He didn’t want to lose Dane.

The idea that he should let it happen because it “wasn’t his job” was terrible. Dane tolerated him so well, even if Lindsay was talking back first thing in the morning.

Finding his hands in his tangled robe, Lindsay slid them over Dane’s skin, careful of the bandages. He

wanted to feel the warmth, the life in Dane’s body. Dane was alive—the fresh surge of realization made

Lindsay wriggle with joy. He pressed his lips to Dane’s shoulder and collarbone again and again until his

tongue was darting out with each kiss to steal a taste of Dane’s skin. He was gentle, delicate, careful not to ask for anything more than the contact and intimacy Dane was already allowing him.

Dane’s big arm around him flexed as Dane drew him closer, his hand splayed over Lindsay’s hip

where Lindsay’s robe had slid away to leave it bare. Dane’s breathing changed and he reached over with

his other hand to stroke Lindsay’s hair. Approval, not just acceptance.

“Dane,” Lindsay whispered, rubbing his cheek against Dane’s chest.

“Mm?” Dane made a slight noise of discomfort as he shifted to be able to see Lindsay’s face.

Lindsay cupped Dane’s face in both hands and stretched up, brushing his lips lightly over Dane’s. It

was a risk, but one he was willing to take. He’d almost lost Dane—he had lost Dane—and he never

would’ve known how Dane felt about him. At least this way he’d know.

Dane kissed him back, less tentatively, and made a soft noise that Lindsay already knew meant he was

pleased with something but not about to say so out loud. His hand on Lindsay’s hip pulled Lindsay close

enough to feel everything. Dane was already hard, hot, and his cock was perfectly in proportion to the rest of his massive body.

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Oh. Lindsay could hardly breathe. He’d had no idea that it would feel like this to be wanted, and he was sure that Dane did want him, at least a little. His gasp of surprise broke the kiss and he kissed Dane

again, quickly, so that Dane wouldn’t think that he was done.

Dane pulled away from him, though, laughing quietly as he nuzzled Lindsay’s nose with his own.

“Missed me that much, did you?”

Yes, yes, God, yes. Lindsay’s throat tightened up and he couldn’t say it out loud. He swallowed hard.

“But that’s not why,” he began hastily. Not why he was kissing Dane. He’d wanted to before, he really had,

so much, and then… “You were gone.”

That was all that would come out and Lindsay was despairing of ever making any sense when Dane

kissed him again, so sweetly, and wrapped Lindsay up in his arms. “I know,” Dane murmured. “I knew,

little bunny.”

Of course Dane knew. Dane knew and hadn’t pushed him away, had held him and slept with him and

kept him close, always.

Lindsay slid his arms around Dane’s neck and pressed against Dane to feel bare skin and bandages

against his chest and belly, and to feel more of the proof that Dane did really want him. All the fantasies that had withered and died before were blooming again in his head and that was all that he could think of,

how much he wanted Dane. Lindsay pressed his lips to Dane’s with a moan, trying to speak with his body

and offer himself up.

“It’s all right,” Dane said soothingly, petting Lindsay’s hair. “Gently now.”

Lindsay had only a moment to worry that he’d done something wrong when a knock at the door

frightened him.

“It’s just Izia.” Dane petted him again to settle him. “What do you want?” When Dane raised his

voice, his tone shifted to something impatient, maybe even angry.

The door creaked open. “Ezqel wants to see Lindsay before the sun is in the next house.” Izia didn’t

look much less tired than last night, though she was standing on her own. “And I want to make sure you

don’t end up undoing all my hard work.”

As soon as Lindsay realized what she was talking about, his cheeks felt like they were on fire. He

wanted to hide against Dane’s chest, but he took a breath and steeled himself, turning to face her.

“I’ll be down to see Ezqel soon.”

“There’s food in the kitchen. You have time to eat, Lindsay, but not much else.” Izia gave Lindsay a

smile, but she was stern again when she turned her attention back to Dane. “I’ll wait outside a minute, then I need to check your wounds.”

The door creaked shut and latched, but Lindsay could feel her waiting outside. Wounds. Dane was

terribly hurt and Lindsay was thinking about sex.

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“Enough of that,” Dane said brusquely, ruffling his hair. He was drawn and pale. The sun had risen

enough that there was light to better see him by now. “Go on and eat, before Ezqel decides to undo all his

handiwork because I’ve made you late.”

“He’d better not,” Lindsay said, surprising himself with his own fierceness.

Dane laughed and relaxed back into the pillows. “Wait until after he heals you to go defending me.”

“As long as you’re okay, I will.” Lindsay wanted to try to steal another kiss, but he’d had more than

he’d ever thought he’d get. Now wasn’t the time to push his luck. Izia said he’d only have time to eat and

he didn’t have any clothes up here. He slithered out of bed and straightened himself out, fastening the robe properly and finding the slippers where they’d fallen off the bed.

“You’ll be fine as you are.” Dane sounded so tired that Lindsay looked at him in alarm. “And I’ll be

fine as I am, as long as I know you’ll get some breakfast.”

“I’ll eat,” Lindsay promised. “I’ll see you…” He trailed off. He had no idea when he’d see Dane.

Today, tonight, how long would it take?

“Soon enough,” Dane assured him. His eyelids seemed too heavy for him and they fluttered shut

before he stopped them, but he opened his eyes again and mustered up a reassuring smile for Lindsay.

The door creaked open. “Lindsay,” Izia said sternly. “Find Taniel as soon as you’ve eaten, if he

doesn’t find you first.”

“Going.” Lindsay didn’t want to leave, but Izia was here and he was sure that Dane would rather

Lindsay not see him like this. With one last longing look over his shoulder, he slipped out the door.

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In the storybook kitchen, Lindsay found more of the custard from the night before, and some dried

fruit. He ate in silence, thinking about Dane. He was alive. Not only was he alive, but he had kissed Lindsay. Lindsay never would’ve guessed anything like that would happen. He was still feeling giddy from

the whole experience. He hoped those good feelings would carry him through Ezqel’s tests. When he was

finished eating, he went looking for Taniel.

Taniel was busy in the library, bent over a huge book. When Lindsay came in, he looked up and

smiled. “Did you sleep well?” He put his pen down and got to his feet. “Ezqel is ready to see you now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Even if he hadn’t, Lindsay’s answer would have been the same. He bit his lip.

“These tests… Do you know…?”

“There are many ways to do things.” Taniel gave Lindsay a sympathetic glance. “I cannot tell you

what will happen—even I can’t know. Ezqel himself may not know. I will take you to him.” He gestured

toward a door set back in the shadows of the library.

Lindsay followed Taniel, lagging behind. He was nervous, and Taniel hadn’t helped that at all.

Taniel led Lindsay to a narrow stone staircase that wound up and up past locked doors. They emerged

through a heavy door at the top of the tower, into a round room that looked like a classic wizard’s haven.

Ezqel was seated at a massive desk at the far end, in an alcove lit from above by a globe of light

suspended on a chain. He raised a finger when Taniel brought Lindsay in. “My thanks, Taniel. You may

go.”

Taniel stopped just inside the door, giving Lindsay a reassuring smile. Lindsay nodded, slipping

farther into the room. Not too far, though. He didn’t want to get close to Ezqel. The idea of these tests, whatever they were going to be, was enough to make the meal he’d eaten sit badly in his stomach.

As Taniel closed the door, leaving them alone, Ezqel rose from his seat. “We must know what was

done to you.” He stepped around the desk and picked up a stone sphere. “Taniel has traced some of your

lineage, giving us some understanding of your potential. Have you seen one of these?” The sphere was

larger than a softball, plain but polished.

Lindsay shook his head. It was a rock. He didn’t say that out loud, though. “No. What is it?”

“We call it a kuni. Come. Place your hand on it.” Ezqel waited for Lindsay to come to him.

“Is it…?” Lindsay walked closer, but slowly. “Will it hurt?” He’d had enough pain for a lifetime.

Ezqel held it out at arm’s length. “This will not hurt.” His expression was dispassionate.

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

This won’t. But something else might. Lindsay swallowed hard and reached out, carefully pressing his hand to the stone sphere, the kuni.

Ezqel murmured foreign words under his breath and the stone glowed. He tilted his head as though

listening. “That’s enough,” he said after a few moments.

Lindsay pulled his hand back immediately. “What did it do?”

“It told me that you’re a mage.” Ezqel chuckled softly. “And it told me more. But most people use it

simply for that. Kuni come in many sizes and shapes. Keystones, gateposts, pendants, even a stone in a

ring.” He put the kuni back on the stand on his desk. “You need to relax, Lindsay. It’s not as though you’re not going to go through with this.”

Lindsay focused on his feet. Ezqel was right, he wasn’t going to say no. He and Dane had gone

through so much to get here. He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Fear is to be expected. I understand that you’ve been abused,” Ezqel said simply. “I’m afraid you

will need to revisit some of that today.” He crossed the room to something large draped in black fabric.

When he pulled the fabric away, it revealed a mirror. “This will let me see what was done to you. I will

know what they know, and I will know how you were damaged.”

Lindsay wrapped his arms around himself, shaking as he resisted the urge to step back. “What do you

need me to do?”

Ezqel gestured for Lindsay to come closer. The frame of the mirror was ornate, gilding over wood.

“You must look in the mirror.”

Lindsay could see himself in the mirror, could see the fear on his own face. It was ridiculous, being

afraid of a mirror. Wasn’t it?

Ezqel ran his fingers over a portion of the wood on one side where the gilding was worn away. The

other side had a similar worn spot. “Put your hands here,” Ezqel said and, as Lindsay moved close enough

to obey, he stepped back to stand behind Lindsay.

The fear was still there as Lindsay stared at himself. He could see his too-pale face and his wide eyes.

And right then, it changed. He could see himself, younger, standing in front of his father. It wasn’t until the flames started that Lindsay realized what he was watching.

His manifestation.

In an instant, he wasn’t watching anymore. He was there, listening to his father’s screams and

smelling the sickly-sweetness of his father’s burnt flesh. “I’m sorry,” he tried to say, but nothing came out.

His lips didn’t even move.

By the time his mother burst through the door, his confusion was gone. He was immersed, living the

scene all over again, stammering his frightened explanations like the first time.

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There was a flash of light, and Lindsay’s parents were gone, his bedroom was gone, and Lindsay was

back in Ezqel’s tower. He wasn’t seventeen anymore, and the man in the room with him was Ezqel, not his

father. His heart was racing like it had been in the past, and his knees were weak.

Lindsay had to hang onto the mirror to keep from falling and that let the mirror suck him right back

in. This time, he knew what was happening as he fell into the past. He was running, terrified, trying to get away. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. No one to save him. Lindsay screamed as a big hand

wrapped around his shoulder, stopping him and jerking him around.

All he got was a glimpse of his father’s face before the white light dropped him back into Ezqel’s

tower. Then it was the sterile green and white of the Institute, his father’s big hand on his shoulder again.

“Fix him,” Lindsay’s father said. “Get rid of it. All of it.”

A doctor in a white lab coat nodded, writing something on the clipboard in her other hand. “We’ll

take care of it. Thank you, Mr. Carrington.”

There was a flash again, too fast for Lindsay to escape. The sharp sting of the intravenous line going

in, and the drugs were pumping into him. Lindsay screamed, couldn’t stop screaming. It felt like pure fire

flowing through his veins and eating up everything in its wake.

“Calm down,” someone said. A technician in a white jumper. “Give the meds time to work. It’ll all

feel better soon.”

Lindsay’s magic bubbled up inside him as he fought the drugs, fought to stay in control of himself,

but as they ate their way through his system, his control faltered. He couldn’t hold on. His magic seemed so far away, so dull and useless. Even when he managed to find it within himself, he couldn’t make it work.

Another flash left Lindsay in the observation room of the Institute, strapped to the gurney, stripped of

his clothes and his magic. “Make it rain,” the doctor said. “Do you hear me, Lindsay? Make it rain in the

room.”

Hope sparked in Lindsay’s chest. Would his magic work? Could he use it to get away? He reached for

it, finding the silky trail of it deep inside himself, but when he grasped it and tried to pull it to the surface, tried to use it, his magic slipped away.

“Do you see, on the monitors?” The doctor wasn’t talking to him anymore. Her voice was quieter, as

though it was an accident that the microphone was still picking her up. She was talking to someone else.

Lindsay’s parents, maybe. They were the ones who had brought him here. They were watching, he was sure

of it. Watching him being tortured, all in the name of “fixing” him. “The drugs are working. The magic is

there. You can see it spark, but he can’t use it. Watch.” Her voice got louder again. “Lindsay. Focus. I want you to make it rain.”

Flash. He was back again. The stone collar was heavy around his throat, on his collarbone. He

couldn’t breathe. His skin tore as he yanked and pulled at his hands, trying to get out of the cuffs, out of the straps, tried to get away, but this time, his magic was within his reach. “Make it rain, Lindsay.”

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Lindsay screamed.

He didn’t stop screaming. When the flash brought him to the corpse-littered corridors of the Institute,

the screams simply turned inward. He’d done that. He’d killed them all.

The white light enveloped him, dragging him back to Ezqel’s tower. He let go of the mirror, still

screaming, and fell to the floor. His hands and knees had barely touched the concrete before he was

throwing up, heaving every bit of the small breakfast he’d eaten onto the floor. Between heaves, he was

still screaming. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t know how long he’d been falling in and out of the mirror, how

long he’d been screaming, but the noises he made were nothing but terrified rasps, and his whole body was

shaking with his sobs.

“Are you sure you can’t eat?” Taniel held Lindsay up with an arm around his waist. The young

librarian’s face was drawn with concern as he helped Lindsay descend from the tower. When Lindsay had

come back to himself, Ezqel was gone and Taniel was there, trying to comfort him without success. “At

least a little tea?”

Lindsay’s stomach gurgled at the very thought and he shook his head. “No food,” he rasped. He

wasn’t sure he ever wanted to eat again. Taniel had brought him water and he’d rinsed out his mouth, but

he hadn’t been able to swallow.

“Do you need Izia?” There was another set of stairs up to the guest room that they had to conquer.

Taniel was patient, helping Lindsay across the sitting room and up to the safe haven.

“I’ll be all right,” Lindsay said, shaking his head again. Izia had been with Dane, the last he’d seen

either of them this morning, and he was sure she was still tired from whatever work she’d done to heal

Dane the night before. “Just…time.” He’d thought time would help with the memories, but they were all

fresh, all over again.

They were partway up the stairs to the room when Dane found them. Taniel saw him coming and

squeaked inadvertently. Dane’s hair was in disarray and he was absolutely stormy, wearing pants and

bandages and nothing more. Lindsay flinched. After everything else, he didn’t want Dane to be mad at him

as well.

“Go away.” Dane’s fury was all directed at Taniel. He reached out for Lindsay. The minute Dane had

his hands on Lindsay, Taniel backed away, almost tumbling down a few steps and beating a hasty retreat.

Dane gathered Lindsay up to his chest, holding him close.

Lindsay tucked his face against Dane’s shoulder and took a slow, shuddering breath. “Taniel didn’t

hurt me,” he whispered. None of it was the librarian’s fault.

“That’s why he gets to walk away.” Dane carried Lindsay to the guest room and kicked the door

closed behind him. He brought Lindsay to the bed and laid him in the warm hollow where he must have

been resting or sleeping before.

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The sheets were so warm, and Lindsay felt so cold. He made a soft noise, rubbing his cheek against

Dane’s pillow. “Are you all right?” His misery didn’t matter if Dane was still hurt.

“Getting better.” Dane brought him a glass of water and waited while Lindsay sat up to take a sip.

Lindsay’s hands shook, and Dane had to help him hold the glass to keep the water from sloshing out as he

brought it up to his lips. When Lindsay was finished, Dane put the glass aside and lay beside him, curling

around him and pulling him close. “Don’t worry about me.” He got Lindsay in his arms and frowned with

concern.

“Long day,” Lindsay admitted, trying to stop shivering.

“You look like shit,” Dane said solemnly. Lindsay felt like shit too, so that worked out. “I swear he

enjoys making people miserable,” Dane muttered. “He’s done. We can go soon.” He bent his head and

nuzzled his cheek against Lindsay’s, rubbing like a cat marking his territory.

It felt good, a sweet contrast to how Lindsay felt otherwise. “Why are you so good to me?” he

murmured, curiosity rolling over his better sense. He hadn’t meant to ask, not ever. He didn’t want to jinx this. But the question had slipped out.

Dane shrugged, a ripple of muscles against Lindsay’s body. “It works.” He snorted softly against

Lindsay’s neck. “Kinda nice change from the usual, anyway.” He purred against Lindsay’s throat before

pulling back and giving Lindsay a crooked grin. “It does work, right?”

“Mmm.” Lindsay nodded. “It’s nice, knowing I can screw up and you won’t hate me for it.” It gave

him room to make mistakes. Like being upset about what Kristan had said. He’d been so wrong about all of

that. Kristan might have been Dane’s lover, but Lindsay was Dane’s to care for. He belonged to Dane, and

that was something even Kristan couldn’t lay claim to. Lindsay burrowed close against Dane’s chest,

sighing with contentment.

“No reason for me to hate you for anything you did yet.” Dane pulled the blankets up around Lindsay

and snuggled Lindsay up to keep him warm. “Hate’s something I save for a special few, anyway. Don’t

think you rate.” He chuckled softly, petting Lindsay’s hair away from his face.

“Feels good,” Lindsay admitted, not talking about the petting alone.

“I go easy on people I like anyway,” Dane said, still petting. “You, I like.” He shrugged again, his

expression sliding back to being as neutral as always.

Lindsay wriggled up enough to angle his mouth against Dane’s, pressing a soft kiss there. “I like you

too,” he whispered, ducking his head into the curve of Dane’s neck. He liked Dane a lot.

Dane purred and relaxed into the bed, laying his head in the pillows. “I noticed,” he rumbled. He

could smell it, probably, or he’d read it in Lindsay’s actions long before Lindsay had ever admitted to

himself how important Dane was to him.

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79

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox

Lindsay relaxed against Dane again, closing his eyes and trying not to let the memories surface. He

could feel tension creeping over him again and his throat got tight with disappointment. Couldn’t he be safe here, at least?

One of Dane’s fingers, very carefully, found a spot to tickle on Lindsay’s ribs. Lindsay squirmed,

surprising himself with a giggle, and ended up flopping on his belly to protect his sensitive skin.

Laughing, Dane stopped tickling and patted Lindsay’s ass instead. He draped his arm and one leg over