FoM02 Trammel

by Anah Crow

  Lindsay was almost limp with relief, but he couldn’t trust it yet. Not until he heard it from the healer.

  “He’s going to be all right?”

  “He’s fine now,” Rajan said. She sealed the bag and put it with two others. “No complications associated with his past injuries. His magic is exceptionally strong. At his age, he’s not going to adjust to it if he hasn’t already. You’ll need to find a way to limit him. I use the patient’s magic to help heal them, as well as my own, and that was a walk in the park for me.”

  “It wasn’t...” Lindsay stopped. Too much detail wasn’t safe. “It’s difficult to explain, but it wasn’t his fault. I’ll keep an eye on him, though.” He crossed the room to offer his hand. “Thank you. Do I make payment arrangements with you, or does Patches handle that, as well?”

  Rajan shook his hand and gave him a smile. “Usually, I’d say with me, but let’s leave it with her this time. Kristan said you wouldn’t have a need for his pain medications after this? I can always use them in my after-hours work.”

  “Keep them.” Lindsay stepped back to look Noah over. He seemed healthier than Lindsay had ever seen him. “And thank you again. If there’s anything we can do for you...” He let the offer trail off. She’d understand.

  “I’ll keep it in mind. We’ll finish cleaning up here, and I’ll be out of your way. Best of luck.” Rajan shouldered her bag and picked up the box with Noah’s antibiotics and painkillers. “Kristan said she’d be back up to get those bags. I’ll take them to be destroyed.”

  “Please do.” Lindsay sat on the bed next to Noah and tentatively ran a hand down his back. No scars, no raw, open wounds, no blackened flesh. Just smooth, new skin. It was beautiful.

  Slowly and gently, Lindsay petted every inch of Noah’s skin he could reach, reassuring himself it was whole and real. At first, Lindsay thought he saw flaws, or faded scars, but no. Noah’s body remembered its old sorrows and the healing process was marked by faint shifts in color like a contour map. Lindsay could follow the terrain of Noah’s failures and suffering, could see all the levels of healing.

  In one place, Lindsay could make out where he had come into Noah’s life, if he looked carefully enough. There were little ripples of gold—faster healing—washing up against the absence of a ridge of scar. He’d seen it the first time he’d met Noah. It had twisted with the clench of Noah’s jaw as Cyrus had said, “This one is yours.”

  It had started to fade already when Noah stood before him in the gym. I was there when it healed. In a small way, some of this healing had come from Noah being his. Lindsay had proof. The realization made his throat tight and he pressed his lips to that place.

  Kristan and Rajan had been coming and going, cleaning away the detritus of Noah’s injuries and healing, but finally, Kristan came back alone. In the back of his head, caution murmured that he should have hidden his reaction from her. That would have meant looking away. Not touching Noah’s perfect skin.

  Not finding some tiny scrap of proof that he hadn’t done everything wrong.

  “Here you go,” she said, coming over and tapping Lindsay with a blue glass bottle. “This is for his skin. And this.” She tossed a tube on the bed that said Homeopathic in big blue letters. “Rajan said new skin needs frequent treatment.” She leered at Lindsay. “If you want to make any of this up to me, call me up and I’ll do it.”

  Lindsay rolled his eyes. “You’re shameless. I’ll make it up to you some other way. I’m sure you’re keeping track.” There was something he needed to add to what he owed her. “I’ve seen you with a gun,” he began hesitantly. “Do you know how to use it?”

  “Wouldn’t be much good if I couldn’t. Why?” Kristan crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him suspiciously.

  “Will you teach me?” Watching Lourdes hurt Noah had brought home that Lindsay needed to find other ways to defend himself and his...his people. Lourdes was too powerful for him to stop with his magic, and there were others as strong as she was.

  He had to have another plan, even if that meant picking up a gun. A gun wouldn’t stop Jonas, but if Lourdes still lived, it would stop her. It would stop Moore.

  Kristan hesitated. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do. I bet he knows how.” She tilted her head toward Noah. “We can’t have our asses hanging out. I know a guy downtown. I need to pick up some stuff for myself. I’ll see what he’s got. If I go tonight, you’ll be cool here?”

  Lindsay looked at Noah, all healthy, new smooth skin and freshly healed exhaustion, and nodded.

  “Yes. I’ll be all right. Thanks.” He’d be fine as long as he didn’t have to leave with her.

  “All right. Don’t forget to eat and all that. I bought food. I’ll be back later.” She left, closing the door behind her.

  Lindsay turned his attention to Noah again. Maybe the oil was a good idea. He picked up the bottle and poured a little in his palm. Smoothing it over Noah’s back, he watched it disappear like he was pouring it out on dry ground. Noah’s arms and legs soaked up the oil too. Lindsay couldn’t do the front of Noah’s body, but that could wait. He closed the bottle and put it aside before curling up beside Noah to watch him sleep.

  When Noah stirred, Lindsay tensed, ready to help with whatever he might need. But Noah didn’t wake. He stretched out instead, sighing, and then sprawled over on his back, long limbs spread out all over the bed.

  Oh. That was... Lindsay had forced himself not to pay attention in the shower after Noah’s confrontation with Kristan. Now he couldn’t help but notice how good Noah looked. The new skin was stretched tight over a sleek, lean body that Lindsay ached to touch. He knew better, though, and kept his hands to himself.

  Keeping his hands to himself worked well, right up until Noah rolled over halfway and—with remarkable accuracy—got a hand on him. Grumbling quietly, Noah tugged Lindsay toward him.

  Swallowing down a startled noise, Lindsay tried to resist, but soon realized that he couldn’t get away without waking Noah. And, if he was totally honest with himself, he didn’t want to get away. Being close to Noah was nice. Better than nice.

  Noah put his head on Lindsay’s chest and trapped him with one arm over his waist and one leg over both of Lindsay’s. He seemed extremely contented and still deeply asleep. And he was warm, as if he’d been soaked in sunshine.

  Lindsay settled in with a sigh. It wasn’t a hardship to be here, taking care of Noah like this. He ran his hand lightly over the soft fuzz of Noah’s hair, a barely there dusting that tickled Lindsay’s palm. Noah was beautiful.

  But Noah was more than his looks. He was strength and trust and need and fragility and confidence all wound together so tightly Lindsay sometimes had trouble telling them apart. And he was Lindsay’s.

  Lindsay hoped he could live up to all that entailed.

  Chapter Nine

  Noah slept for long enough, his body radiating heat with every breath, that Lindsay found himself getting some rest whether he liked it or not. The stress of the last few days had been nearly unbearable.

  Being forced to relax was as good as the scraps of restless sleep Lindsay had been able to scrounge since everything went wrong. Eventually, Noah roused, grumbling and snuggling until he woke enough to be aware of his surroundings.

  “Did that really happen?” he asked, pushing himself to sitting.

  “Which part?” Lindsay’s relief at seeing Noah whole was dampened by the reminder of everything that had brought them here.

  “The part where I fucked up.” Noah sat up, inspecting his hands and chest, and ran his fingers over his face. “I remember it. And the healing. Not a dream, right?”

  Lindsay’s smile faded. “Not a dream. But you didn’t fuck up. It was Lourdes. She took away your control. That’s why you got hurt.”

  “I thought I felt someone.” Noah pushed himself back to lean on the pillows. “I should be dead.” He looked at his hands again, then at Lindsay. “You saved me.”

  Lindsay tugged at his sleeves and cl
osed his eyes, but all he could see was the burnt and dying body he’d held in his arms just last night. Shaking himself slightly, he opened his eyes and focused on how much better Noah looked now. “I couldn’t let you... Not if I could help.” He’d watched Dane die. That was enough for one lifetime.

  “Thank you.” Noah pulled a sheet over his lap to cover his nakedness. “I hope you won’t be sorry you did it.”

  “I won’t.” Lindsay didn’t know why Noah would even say such a thing.

  “Kristan says she’s heard from Vivian,” Noah said quietly. He looked pained but resolute. “Dane never made it home from the military base. He hasn’t been seen. They don’t know where he is. He’s just gone.”

  He’d been so intent on saving Noah that he hadn’t considered how much danger he was putting Dane in by leaving him behind. The blood drained from his face. He hadn’t calculated the sacrifice Dane had made.

  Kristan had to be wrong. Dane...

  “I have to go. I have to—”

  He scrambled off the bed and was out the door before he knew where he was going. One of the other rooms, the one Kristan was using, had a window that opened onto the porch roof. Lindsay scrambled out into the cool night air.

  Cyrus would be able to hear him from here.

  “Where is he, you old bastard?” Lindsay yelled. “Tell me how to find him!”

  Silence. The only noises came from the street below and the nearby freeway.

  His gut was in knots and all he could taste was the bile welling up in the back of his mouth. Dane...

  Oh God, Dane. Moore had him, and Lindsay had no idea how to find him. There was no way she’d stayed in New Jersey, not after they’d taken Zoey.

  “Where is he?” he screamed to the sky. “Goddamn it, tell me!”

  Still nothing.

  “He’s not coming, little one.” The touch on his mind was as gentle as fingertips touching his cheek.

  “I’m sorry that you’re all alone.”

  “Lourdes. Get out of my head, damn you.” Lindsay took a step back, not that it would do him any good. Then he registered what she’d said. “No, wait— Who’s not coming? Cyrus? Why not?”

  “When they came for the girl, he refused them.” Lourdes sounded genuinely sorrowful. “The Hounds are what they are. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Cyrus was dead. That opened up such a massive well of questions Lindsay couldn’t answer that he pushed the knowledge away to be dealt with later, so he wouldn’t drown in it. He couldn’t think about it right now. Other things were more important. Like what Lourdes hadn’t said.

  “Did they get what they came for?” Lindsay was talking to air, to nothing but a voice in his head, but he had to know. There was a moment of silence.

  “No,” Lourdes said at last. “He succeeded in keeping her from them. I didn’t mean for you to be left alone. I’m sorry for that as well. It was not my intention to kill what was yours.”

  What was... Noah. She wasn’t snooping around inside his head. In that case, he’d let her go on thinking she’d killed Noah. No reason to give up the surprise factor.

  “So you do have Dane.”

  “ She has him.” Lourdes sounded cold and far away. Distressed, maybe. That was interesting. Lindsay tried to use it to his advantage.

  “Where?”

  “The same place she has Jonas.” Lourdes pulled away from him a little. “Your friend accomplished that much, at least. You should be proud of him.”

  “I am.” Lindsay made his voice and his mind flat, to keep her from seeing what she’d missed.

  “You must be strong now,” she said, coming closer again. “You will see Dane again, if you are. I know you can be. I’m proud of you, little one. You are never quite as alone as it seems.” Lindsay could feel her startle at something, and she whispered, “I have to go.”

  Without further niceties, she was gone.

  As gone as she ever was, apparently. You are never quite as alone as it seems. If Lindsay could’ve had nightmares, those words would have been enough to prompt several.

  “Are you all right?” Noah was at the window, leaning on the sill. He held his hand out. “Come back in, Lindsay.”

  “No, I’m not all right.” Lindsay put his head in his hands and took a slow breath. Raising his head again, he moved carefully back toward the window. The sagging floor creaked underfoot. “Cyrus is dead.

  But Dane is alive. Moore has him.”

  “Oh, Lin.” Noah looked stricken. When Lindsay got close enough, Noah helped him climb back inside. “I’m sorry.”

  Inside, Lindsay stepped close and rested his forehead against Noah’s chest. “He’s alive, but I don’t know where he is.” Lourdes had been right the last time she’d said Lindsay would see Dane again. He hoped she was right this time too.

  “We’ll find him.” Noah wrapped his arms around Lindsay and held him. “If I hadn’t...” He shook his head and rested his cheek on Lindsay’s hair.

  “It was my decision.” Lindsay had made the choice that meant Dane had to stay behind. And Moore... “Kristan’s gone for the night. When she gets back, we need to talk about what we’re going to do next.”

  “Then let me sit down before we talk.” Noah held out a hand. “Before I fall down. You don’t need to be carrying me.”

  “We’d best get you to bed.” Lindsay took Noah’s hand and let Noah lean on him. Noah shouldn’t have been up in the first place. Lindsay let his concern push the crushing news to the back of his head. He led Noah to their room and helped him into bed. “We can talk later. You should rest. Rajan said you’d need it.”

  “And you shouldn’t?” Noah dropped to the bed with a soft groan. “Did you eat while I was sleeping?”

  He dragged the covers up as he lay down, managing to leave one leg bare and not bothering to fix it.

  “Before I came back with the healer. Are you hungry?” Lindsay tugged the blankets to cover Noah’s leg. Seeing it bare only made him want to touch, because touching would make him feel better, and that was temptation he didn’t need.

  “Dr. Rajan said I probably wouldn’t be until tomorrow, and, I quote, I ‘don’t want to know why’.”

  Noah made a sour face. “I really don’t. I’m fine, though.”

  “Good to know.” Lindsay made a face to match Noah’s. “Consider that offer rescinded. We’ll go with sleep then.”

  He straightened the blankets again, and headed over to curl up in the chair in the corner. He might as well relax while Noah was sleeping. Anything to keep from thinking about Cyrus. There was nothing he could do about Cyrus’s death, and pushing it aside as he’d done with so many other things over the years was the only way he could cope right now.

  “Don’t.” Noah sat up and grabbed one of the blankets. “I can sit there. I slept all afternoon.”

  “You’ve been through a lot. You should take the bed.” Lindsay came back to the bed to put his hand on Noah’s shoulder—Noah’s skin was as warm as sunlight—and push him back down to the bed. “Stay.”

  “I’m not letting you spend the night in a chair.” Noah wasn’t nearly as compliant as he had been at other times. “We all need you to get some sleep. I’ll stay here if you will. I promise not to use you as a pillow again.”

  Lindsay hesitated. Noah was... But it wouldn’t matter. They both needed to rest. “All right. Move over.” He slid into bed with Noah and pulled the covers up over both of them.

  Noah propped a pillow up behind himself so he was sitting up, and he watched Lindsay get settled, his eyes narrowed. Once Lindsay had his head on a pillow, he exhaled slowly.

  “That’s better. Did you really expect me to sleep knowing you’re crumpled up in a chair like yesterday’s laundry?” He sounded sour about that. “Especially on top of everything else?” His hand was warm on Lindsay’s hair. “We can start fixing things tomorrow.”

  “It would’ve been fine,” Lindsay insisted, letting his eyes fall shut. He’d spent the night after they’d gotten here
in that chair. Lying next to Noah would have only caused him pain.

  “Not for me,” Noah muttered. He was uncharacteristically intractable and defensive, but his touches were warm and soothing. After a minute, though, he took his hand away and was quiet. He’d said he wouldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t long before his breathing settled into a familiar, slow rhythm that said he was out like a light.

  Lindsay, on the other hand, couldn’t get his mind to stop racing. Dane was with Moore. He hated that, but he could cope with it. He’d get Dane back. But Cyrus was dead. Just...dead.

  Moore’s people hadn’t gotten Zoey, but that left Ylli—assuming he was still alive—to protect her, and it was impossible to tell how long that would last. Ylli had all the killer instinct of any other little bird.

  Cyrus was dead. Dane was gone—for now. Nobody ever knew where Vivian was. That left him, and Kristan, to lead the way forward. Kristan had done well getting them to Detroit, but this wasn’t her fight.

  She had no bond to Dane and no connection to Moore that would push her to set things right.

  It was all up to him.

  Lindsay wasn’t the only one feeling unsettled, but Noah slept through it. He pushed himself down from the head of the bed and sprawled on his belly, then twisted to lie on his back. In what little light there

  was in the room, Lindsay could make out the unhappiness on his face. When one of his hands found Lindsay’s hip as he rolled onto his side, it didn’t take long for him to find his way closer.

  Only then, with his cheek pressed to Lindsay’s shoulder and an arm and a leg draped over Lindsay as well, did he seem less distressed. His breath caught as he remembered things in his sleep, but he was finally still.

  With Noah wrapped around him, Lindsay was bathed in warmth. It was both familiar and not, at once, but Lindsay let it comfort him. Absentmindedly, he stroked Noah’s bare back under the blankets as his mind whirled through everything that had happened, and everything he had to do.