all the time he’d spent with Dane had given him some secret hope that it was true.
“It’ll be okay,” Dane said, watching over his shoulder to make sure Lindsay came back to his side.
“Do you want me to…” Lindsay looked around them, at the crowds, at all the movement and light
around them. The air was full of voices rising to the ceiling, bouncing off the walls. There were so many of them. “I could try to hide us.” He could help. He wanted to help, to be useful, like the rest of them.
“I don’t want to lose track of you.” Dane guided him around a kiosk and headed for the luggage
carousel.
“I could exclude you. Like on the plane.” A tall man, cell phone pressed to his ear, bumped Lindsay
with his shoulder and knocked him back a pace. He stifled his noise of pain and took a few fast steps to
catch up with Dane again. He hated airports.
Anah Crow and Dianne Fox
“You think you can do that with this many people around?” Dane frowned. Lindsay could see him
calculating the distance between them by the way his eyes flicked over Lindsay and the way he reached for
Lindsay’s hand.
Even if Lindsay had ever wanted to resent the gesture, he simply couldn’t have—it felt too good and
safe, on a nearly primal level, to slide his cold hand into Dane’s warm one.
“I can try.” He let Dane draw him in close. Yes, he was getting better at taking care of himself, but
until they were with Cyrus and Vivian, neither he nor Dane could relax. Maybe not even then.
Dane’s beautiful human face was stern, and he stopped walking to draw Lindsay into the relative
shelter of an ATM kiosk. “Try,” he suggested. “If it doesn’t feel good, let it go.”
“Okay.”
Lindsay swallowed a stab of nervousness and straightened his shoulders. He had no idea how Dane
managed to focus in places like this. After the peace of the forest and the mystical calm of Ezqel’s house, Lindsay’s human senses were overwhelmed. Everyone else is overwhelmed too, he told himself. I can use that to my advantage. No one wants to notice us. No one cares. Hiding from people who didn’t care would be the easy part. He hoped it would work on the people who did care.
“Don’t let go.” Lindsay squeezed Dane’s hand.
That got Lindsay a smile. He was used to the flash of fangs and a feral glint in Dane’s eyes, but Dane
was human again—or more than human—and this smile was beatific, like an angel or a saint, and the heat
in Dane’s eyes was pure gold. For a moment, Lindsay forgot about everything except for Dane’s beauty
and the realization that he was looking at his lover. His lover.
“We’ll be home soon,” Dane promised, ducking his head so that his words drifted warm against
Lindsay’s cheek. He pressed a kiss where his words had landed and a shiver ran down Lindsay’s spine.
Lindsay slid his free hand up along Dane’s neck, feeling the beat of Dane’s pulse alive and strong
against his fingers. Home. It sounded so good. Moore and her lackeys were a small shadow on the brightness that was his life right now. Home, magic, future… Months earlier, Lindsay’d had no hope of
anything, and now he had it all.
“I’ll try to get us there.” He kissed Dane’s silky golden skin where his fingers lay and tasted that
familiar musk that was home already. “If you can find our luggage, you’ll be my hero.”
“I’m not already?” Dane pulled away, laughing. “I’m wounded.”
“You’ll heal, remember?” Lindsay said dryly, elbowing him. “Look for our luggage, so I can do my
job.”
“Get to it.” Dane squeezed his hand and Lindsay took a slow breath.
There was a hollow in the center of his magic, like the eye of a storm, and Lindsay made sure that he
and Dane were safe within it. He began to erase them from everyone’s attention. In the confines of the
156
www.samhainpublishing.com
Tatterdemalion
luggage area, it was easy to do, but he couldn’t make things quiet. The chatter around him increased,
intensified, until he was wincing from the noise.
“Are you okay?”
Lindsay could barely hear Dane’s voice over the clamor, but he nodded. He was aware of Dane
gathering their few things, slinging bags over his shoulder, sliding his other hand into Lindsay’s.
“Time to go. Seems like it’s working.”
They moved in a blank space in the world, people veering around them without looking, always at the
same distance, like there was a wall around them. A wall of nothing. People’s eyes slid off of them as though even the air around them was hard to look at.
I can do this, Lindsay said sternly, trying to calm the panic that started to rise in his chest. He felt claustrophobic. Had it been this noisy before he’d put his magic up?
I think he’s cheating on me. What? Dane wasn’t, wouldn’t, they weren’t even… I wanted to go to Hawaii, but, no, she had to have Disneyland. Hawaii, who wanted to go there? Lindsay had never even considered Disneyland… I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry! A toddler’s wail cut through Lindsay’s focus.
Oh, God. Lindsay clung to Dane’s hand so hard that his own knuckles cracked.
“Lindsay?” Dane’s gentle rumble cut through the noise.
“I’m okay,” Lindsay lied. There had to be a way to make it stop. Why now? It would have happened
on the plane, if… Lindsay bit his lip, trying to breathe through his nose and not panic and keep the illusion up all at once. Someone was watching, looking for them. He could feel it like paranoia creeping up the
back of his throat.
On the plane, there had been a soft whispering that he’d ignored because Dane’s kisses felt so good.
Maybe he’d been able to hold on because of that distraction, maybe there’d been fewer minds on his. It was
so loud, Lindsay just wanted it to stop. Please.
They wouldn’t be in the airport much longer. Lindsay’s head was throbbing, but he made himself
hang on to the illusion. The idea that they were being watched was getting stronger and stronger. If he was hearing the thoughts of everyone around them, there could really be someone there. If he dropped the
illusion and they were found—or worse, followed—it would be his fault. He didn’t want to be weak.
I’m so tired of being afraid. Dane was a tall, dark shadow at the margin of his awareness. Safety.
Haven. Dane would protect him. Lindsay just had to hold it together.
Taniel had talked about shielding the mind. Lindsay hadn’t thought it was necessary, he hadn’t felt
anything from Taniel or Dane, so he’d never thought to pursue the idea. It was too late for that. When he
could, if he got through this, he’d work on it. But now, he had to survive.
The Institute had taught him things, Lindsay realized. He recognized the sensation of drawing into
himself, detaching from his own body. There was something about working magic that was akin to
www.samhainpublishing.com
157
Anah Crow and Dianne Fox
clenching a muscle rather than sustaining a thought. His mind could hold the illusion even while his
thoughts—his self—slipped away.
It still felt like hell, but Lindsay had survived hell before. He had survived Moore and her artifact. He
could survive this. I am stronger than you. Remembering that gave him more strength against the bullet thoughts firing through the minds that were all linked to his in the moment. It let him keep walking.