FoM02 Trammel (24 page)

“Noah.” Lindsay’s voice was only a whisper, but his raw need came through loud and clear. His muscles tensed under Noah’s hands, flexing in time with the rhythm Noah had set. It wasn’t long before precome was spilling over Noah’s tongue and Lindsay was making soft, whimpering sounds, his hand falling away from Noah’s head.

Noah opened his eyes, leaving the dark, safe place where he’d lost himself to anything but the sensations of Lindsay’s body on his. He drew Lindsay in deep, his hands tight on Lindsay’s ass, and swallowed, moaning softly. Lindsay’s orgasm was a rush of cool slickness and sharp cries, and even as Lindsay’s shudders slowed, he didn’t pull away.

“Good,” Lindsay murmured, touching Noah’s cheek with cool, gentle fingers. “That was so good.”

As promised, Noah cleaned up after himself, and enjoyed every last lick. As turned on as he was, he felt sated at the same time, like more would be overindulgence. He didn’t want it to be about him right now. What he’d needed—for more than his body—Lindsay had given him last night.

He pushed to his feet and let himself kiss Lindsay’s cheek, stroking the other with his fingertips.

Lindsay turned into it, rubbing his cheek against Noah’s like a cat.

His hands slid from Noah’s hips to the fly of his jeans and Noah stopped him with a touch as Kristan shouted, “Hey, you coming?”

“I already did,” Lindsay murmured, laughing quietly as he took a step back from Noah. Louder, he called, “Just getting clean clothes on. Be right down.”

“Are you...?” Noah stopped himself from prodding about what Lindsay was doing. Not only was it not his business—in the very strictest sense of things—but he wanted to make sure Lindsay didn’t fall into deferring to him.

“Be careful,” he said, instead, letting go of Lindsay’s hands. As long as the two of them weren’t going up against anything but humans, they’d be fine.

“I will.” Lindsay grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste from the floor. At the door, he stopped and turned back. “You be careful too, if you’re heading out to the library. There’s a bus stop not far from here that should get you where you need to go.”

“I’m used to strange cities, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back here by full dark, I hope, but if I’m late, go on to bed.” Noah gathered up the washing things, but left the food so Lindsay could at least take it with him. “If I’m right, we’ll know where we’re going by tomorrow morning.”

Lindsay looked translucent in the morning light with his skin clean and damp, and it was hard for Noah to convince himself that Lindsay would be fine on his own. Hard, except for the scars that reminded him Lindsay was more capable than he was of surviving. He made himself leave to take the dirty water downstairs.

Kristan had left money on the counter. Noah shoved it into a pocket and got to feeding himself. By the time he was eating, Lindsay and Kristan were headed out the door.

“There’s a diner called Apollo 11,” Kristan said, poking her head into the kitchen. “If you can’t find us again, go there. Patches will owe you if we run into trouble.”

“I won’t forget,” Noah promised.

That much, Noah could make sense of, and it made him feel better to know that someone would owe him enough to get him back across the border if anything went wrong. Back long enough to collect Rose and the others and come fix it, and screw old men and their ideas of territories.

The front door banged shut and Noah was alone. He didn’t have a watch, but he guessed that he had time to clean the house—yes, it was falling down, but it was their house right now and he was the one to clean it—and be at the library when it opened. He’d wandered enough cities after leaving home that he wasn’t worried about negotiating this one. Stuffing the last of a sandwich in his mouth, he picked up Lindsay’s bathwater and put it in the sink. Dishes first, then the rest. Everything done in the right order would get them where they needed to go.

Chapter Eleven

Lindsay shifted his grip on the gun in his hand and glanced at Kristan. “Like this?”

When he could push past the ache of loss, Dane’s absence provided Lindsay with even more reason to learn to use a gun. Dane had been—and would be again, he promised himself—the protector in their little family. But now, even with Noah by his side, Lindsay had to learn to take care of himself.

If he couldn’t do it with his magic—and Lourdes had proven he couldn’t always rely on his magic for protection and defense—then he’d have to do it by mundane means.

Kristan nodded, and he used his thumb to flick off the safety. He could do this. Just because his last few shots wouldn’t have hit the broad side of a barn—much less the empty beer can Kristan had propped up on the fence—didn’t mean this time he would miss too.

Well, maybe.

Lindsay squeezed the trigger, tensing in anticipation of the recoil, and nearly yelped when the can fell off the fence. Holy shit. He’d done it.

They were behind an abandoned house in a neighborhood where, Kristan assured him, gunshots would not draw unwanted attention. Lindsay didn’t want to think about what that meant for the people who lived here, but since no sirens answered his shots, he was grateful.

Carefully putting the gun down in front of him, Lindsay turned to Kristan. “I have no idea if I’ll ever be able to pull that off again,” he said, answering her wide smile. He knew he was flushed with success, he felt it on his skin and in the straightness of his spine. More than that, there was the glow of confidence Noah’s tender attention and sincere respect had sparked in him this morning. He had no idea how Noah did it, but it felt good.

“Sure.” Kristan pushed herself up off the broken steps where she’d been sitting while he practiced.

“You’re the golden boy, you’ll pull it off. No surprise you have to be good at everything. And at least you won’t shoot yourself in the foot now. But we should blow. Patches is waiting for us.”

Lindsay rolled his eyes and turned back to take care of the gun. Once it was safely stored in the bag, he carried it to Kristan. “Yes, none of us need that. We’ve had enough visits with healers already this month, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I could do without seeing another for a while. I’m staying away from anything flammable.”

Kristan shouldered her backpack—the way it pulled her shoulders back made her curves seem so outrageous that she should have been a comic-book heroine—and ran a hand through her cropped curls.

“Sparky’s luck with women is shit. At least he’s okay now. I’d like to punch that bitch in the...” She trailed off and spit in the dirt at her feet. “Let’s go.”

Lindsay was surprised to hear that Kristan felt the same way he did—or maybe he wasn’t. Kristan hadn’t shied away from giving every bit of help needed to put Noah back together. Lindsay had obviously misjudged her. Worse, he’d known he was doing it—letting himself be distracted by his own jealousy over Dane.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. He waved off her questioning look and she let it go. She was right, they had to get going. Patches was expecting them. Besides, actions were better than apologies for something she hadn’t even known was going on in his head. He followed her out of the yard.

The little coffee bar in the basement under the Apollo 11 was busier than it had been last time. Kristan led him through the mix to where Patches was perched on the edge of the stage.

“Here you go,” Kristan said, gesturing at Lindsay. “Special delivery. All your jailbreak needs in one place.” She dropped her backpack on the stage and allowed a moment to give Patches a hug. “I’m gonna eat someone’s soul if I don’t get a coffee. You want one?”

It took Lindsay a moment—and Kristan turning to stare pointedly at him—to realize that last was directed at him. “Please, yes. Thank you.”

“Blond,” Kristan muttered. With a snort and a roll of her eyes, she disappeared behind a pair of matched slabs of beef wearing Apollo 11 T-shirts.

“Thanks for coming,” Patches said warmly. She looked like some kind of bohemian deity with her odd skin and clothes and the way people—literally—seemed willing to put her on a pedestal. “I’ll show you what I need from you. One of the children I’ve been keeping an eye on has been dropped into the local juvenile detention and the way people are disappearing, I can’t take any chances.”

“Tell me what you need.” Lindsay owed her and Rajan both and, after how Rajan had helped Noah, he’d do almost anything to repay the debt.

“You suggested that you could provide illusions.” Patches took a map from one of her bouncers and offered it to Lindsay. “You’ll see there that we’ve identified the cell where he’s being held. However, it would be safest if we removed him from the yard during the mandatory outdoor period. I have people who can do the physical work. All we need is a distraction to draw most of the guards.”

The exercise yard was backed by the detention center on two sides. A parking lot was laid out on the third side and a side street ran along the fourth. The two open sides were protected by an eight-foot-high concrete wall and twelve feet of chain link with a four-strand barbed-wire barrier on top. It would be difficult to get in and out, but Lindsay could see where it would be possible, with the right people.

“I can do that.” But he could do more. “It would be safer if I made sure no one sees any of you. And the boy, once you have him.”

“They have an extensive camera surveillance system.” Patches leaned over to tap the blue markings.

“Sadly, it’s more for legal ass-covering than to keep the kids from getting out.” The pale blue arcs must have indicated the camera coverage area, but that didn’t matter.

“I can handle it. If I cover the entire complex, there won’t be anyone to see.” As long as the guards watching the feed were in the same complex, there wouldn’t be any problems.

“You’re sure?” Patches looked at the map, then at Lindsay. “There are several hundred people to deal with. The distraction would be fine. Not that I’m saying no. It’s just...” She spread both hands expressively. “I would rather be safe than sorry.”

“He can do it.” Kristan sounded exceedingly sour. “There’s a reason he’s got his own harem.” She came up beside Lindsay and nudged him with her elbow so he’d take his coffee. “That doesn’t include me, thank God. No offense, but I’m allergic to perfection.”

“I’m not—” Lindsay stopped and stared at Kristan for a moment. “Harem?”

He took the coffee, shaking off the surprise, and turned back to Patches. “She’s right, though. I can do it. I didn’t explain before, when you asked what I could pay. It’s not always safe. But I can make certain no one gets caught.”
Never again.
Lindsay didn’t let himself continue with the thought. He would find Dane.

And, today, Lindsay would make sure what happened to him didn’t happen to this boy.

“Harem,” Kristan muttered under her breath before she took another sip of coffee. It was a welcome distraction from the memories welling up in the back of his mind.

“If you can keep them from seeing us.” Patches looked thoughtful, and she tweaked the map out of Lindsay’s hands. “Then all we have to do is get someone up and over, and back with the kid. How much can you...” She looked up at Lindsay from under her strangely shiny lashes. “Could you let... Can you do it on one person as well?”

“It’s only gonna get bigger.” Kristan’s voice drifted up from behind Lindsay as she flung herself into a chair.

“The prisoners and guards, and a separate illusion over this one person?” Lindsay asked, to clarify.

“Well, he doesn’t know we’re trying to get him out. And he is still a child. I don’t want him to be alarmed.” Patches cast a worried glance up into the shadows. When Lindsay tracked her gaze, he found himself looking at something—someone—who was almost indistinguishable from the shadows except for a flicker of pale green eyes. Possibly more than two eyes.

This wasn’t the time to get nervous about exposing the scope of his magic. If he was going to get Patches and her friends in and out of the detention center in one piece, they’d all know what he could do, anyway. “I can put him to sleep, if you’d like.”

He glanced at Kristan over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows.
Bigger?

“It’s not just your awesome power that’s a commodity,” Kristan said under her breath. It was like having a very sarcastic little devil on his shoulder.

Lindsay shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t have a harem, still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up with Dane and Noah both. Between him and Kristan, Lindsay knew which was the more attractive, and it certainly wasn’t him.

“We’ll go with that. That makes it easier on us.” Patches gave Kristan a sweet smile. “I can always count on this one to come through. We’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.” She moved to hop off the stage and one of the huge bouncers was right there to take her hand and help her down.

Lindsay watched her walk away before turning his attention to Kristan. “I’m not— It’s not like that, you know.”

“Like what?” She was the picture of limpid-eyed innocence for all of three seconds, then she laughed.

“Not like you’re building a harem of ridiculously hot men? I think the old man must have had a very naughty mind.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. At least she’d keep him from getting too full of himself.

Lindsay nearly choked on his coffee. “I do not want to think about Cyrus thinking about my sex life.

Really.”

“Oh, please.” Kristan shook her head. “Everyone’s got to get their fun somewhere. And as for the harem thing, well...even if you’re not putting one together, you’re going to get plenty of volunteers sooner than later. I don’t have to know any of this old-ways shit to see that one coming.”

“I’m not...” Lindsay sighed. “I don’t see why.” Kristan was everything he wasn’t. Beautiful, full of color and life, she exuded sexuality even when she wasn’t using her magic. He knew Dane’s affections were real, but that didn’t mean he understood why Dane had chosen him. Or Noah.

“As soon as people know even a little of what you can do, you’ll have them falling over themselves to be near you,” Kristan said with a little shrug. “You could have anyone you wanted anyway, but this is less work.”

“Less work.” Lindsay didn’t want his magic to be the reason someone was with him. “I think I’ll pass.”