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Dane took a few paces back and raised the same hand he’d raised against the demon before. Yzumrud

glinted at him again in what little light there was, laughing at him for needing it once more. He spoke under his breath and the corpse imploded in a shower of green sparks and a cloud of yellow gases.

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The fire was green and white, flaring so hot that the smell of melting asphalt undercut the vile smoke.

When the corpse finally fell in on itself in a fresh fountain of sparks, Dane turned away. It hurt to move, but he was good at keeping his expression neutral.

“Let’s go. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Lindsay nodded. “I can walk.” Dane could smell his blood and fear and pain, but he wasn’t about to

argue. He’d wait until Lindsay wobbled enough to warrant an intervention.

“Fine.” He stopped and gestured for Lindsay to go in front of him. “Go on. Least if something else

steals you, I’ll see it.” Dane watched him struggle, too proud to ask for help. Lindsay didn’t know how to

ask for help, and Dane knew it.

Dane caught up in two strides, sweeping Lindsay up in his arms and ignoring how it hurt. It was better

than watching. Sometimes, Lindsay could be ridiculous and it was irritating how much like Dane the boy

was being at those times.

“I’m not indulging you,” Dane muttered. That was still pissing him off. No matter what the guul had made Lindsay think, the fact remained that it was damned difficult for one of them to make someone think

something they didn’t believe in, at least a little.

“It feels like you do,” Lindsay admitted softly. “I didn’t want to be an obligation, like you had to do

anything like that to keep me happy. I…want to be wanted. That’s all.” He closed his eyes, tucking his cheek against Dane’s chest.

Dane pressed a kiss to his hair and tried not to get angry again. “It wasn’t your fault for thinking it.

Well, it wasn’t your fault for being stupid about it,” he said quietly. “Not completely.”

“It’s not?” Lindsay’s face was full of such desperate hope that Dane wondered, again, what Cyrus

thought he was doing giving someone so fragile to him.

“Not completely, no,” Dane grumbled, any residual anger temporarily diverted by Lindsay’s need to

be forgiven. “Demons play with your mind. The sweet smell, it’s not sweet. It’s the same smell as the other one. You think it’s sweet, because you know the smell of honey. Same as the way you felt that made you

walk off.”

Lindsay sighed, defeated, and sank into Dane’s arms. “Still my fault for thinking it. It wouldn’t have

happened if I didn’t believe it, right?” Sometimes, he was too smart for his own good.

“I should have remembered.” Dane wasn’t about to let himself, or Ezqel, off the hook. “It was my

fault.”

“But…” Lindsay started, but fell silent when Dane glared at him. He pressed his cheek to Dane’s

chest and gave Dane those wide eyes.

“My fault,” Dane said flatly. He didn’t need this ridiculousness. Right now, he needed to work out

where they were so he could get them back to the hotel.

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“You killed it, at least.” Lindsay’s stubborn little voice drifted up from under Dane’s chin. He was

impossible, and it made him all the more irresistible.

“Who said I don’t want you?” Dane shifted so that Lindsay could be more comfortable even though

his voice got more angry as he spoke. He was frustrated with both of them. “Cyrus is going to kill me for

touching you at all—if I’m lucky, he’ll only kill me—and you’re going on about how I don’t want you?

Where the fuck did that idea come from?”

“You didn’t seem all that…I don’t know. Interested. I guess.” Lindsay raised his head to peek at

Dane’s face. “Cyrus is going to be angry?”

“Not interested…” Dane stopped on a street corner that was barely lit by a single flickering bulb.

“Cyrus is probably chewing his own hair. And I am interested in you.”

Dane could hardly help himself. Lindsay had grace and intellect and beauty and delicacy and strength

that hit all of Dane’s buttons right. He was everything Dane wasn’t, and so perfectly made. What the hell

did Lindsay want, poetry? Getting out of that kind of thing should have been an advantage to being with a

man, and Lindsay was definitely a man, even if he was still green and new to it.

Dane set Lindsay on his feet and held his shoulders so that Lindsay had to look at him. “Asking what

you want doesn’t mean I’m not interested. Where’d you get that idea?”

“It just…” Lindsay closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to be…tolerating me, or

something. And when you asked… I thought if you were really interested in me, it would sound different.”

Dane wanted to bang his head on the lamppost, except that his head already hurt. “Maybe I am

indulging you,” he admitted. His hands were filthy, so he used the back of the cleanest one to push

Lindsay’s lank hair back from his smudged face. “It’s nothing I don’t want. What’s wrong with being

indulged? What’s wrong with someone giving you what you need? Sometimes it can fix things nothing else

can.”

Lindsay bowed his head. “I didn’t want it to be like…” Dane could guess the rest of that sentence.

like his parents, being civil to him out of duty instead of love.

“This is now. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, with everything. This is not then.” Dane dropped his

head to nuzzle Lindsay’s nose with his own. “This is a different life.”

Lindsay tipped his head up, eyes closed. He was so young, far too young to be starting over, but here

they were. Even if Lindsay had lived all his years free, he would have been inexperienced, next to Dane. In spite of all the terrible things that had been done to him, Lindsay was so innocent, ignorant of so much

good as well as so much of the evil in the world. All Dane wanted was to make sure that Lindsay learned

the best of things first.

“It’s over,” Dane reminded him, instead of saying what he wanted to say, for fear of sounding

patronizing. “Your mother wouldn’t even know your face. She’ll depend on the kindness of strangers until

she dies. You nearly killed your father from hundreds of miles away. You could do it again.” Dane nudged

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Lindsay under the chin with a knuckle, making Lindsay open his eyes. “Your life now. Say what you

need.”

Lindsay hesitated for a long moment. “You.”

Dane was a tired, hurt animal, but the answer made him smile, made him warm in places he hadn’t

remembered he could be warm. He should have told Lindsay to pick something better, something more

useful, something more beautiful, something less broken. He couldn’t. What he wanted wasn’t worth

considering here, but he wanted this. “Then you’ll have me.” He pulled Lindsay to him and kissed

Lindsay’s soft mouth.

Resting his hands against Dane’s chest, Lindsay opened up to the kiss, yielding so easily. “I’m sorry,”

he whispered when he could speak, his lips warm against Dane’s.

“I can’t always be there to make sure you survive your mistakes. Or mine.” Dane scooped Lindsay up

again and started walking. “If you’re sorry, make smaller mistakes. So will I. Okay?”