Make Me Whole (17 page)

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Authors: Marguerite Labbe

BOOK: Make Me Whole
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He picked up the box and carried it into the living room. He had loved the story of his dad’s uncle and the mysterious lover he’d met during the war and moments of magic. He used to read it before bed, especially after he started to realize that he was different from his brothers, and that he might have more in common with his great-uncle than just a name. Uncle Stavros had been in love with another man.

Nick settled back on the couch with his uncle’s journal in his hands and a glass of iced tea on the table. There had to be a clue in one of these that would help him. Uncle Stavros had been in Greece during the Italian invasion, and the statues had been in a private museum run by his father. He’d met the other man when the British came to Greece’s aid.

Nick lost himself in the tale and suffered the same pang of empathy that he had as a teenager when Uncle Stavros’s heart had been broken. There didn’t seem to be many clues to the statues in that journal. Uncle Stavros had been more concerned with the war, and his lover, than what had been going on with Dexios and Lykon.

“You should not be looking in those old books for answers.”

Nick dropped the journal and scrambled to his feet with a startled yelp at the sound of the voice in his living room. Rory and Amy went silent as Dexios came forward, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t move that far away from your statue,” Nick said. Dexios, with his armor and sword, seemed to take up all the space in the small living room, and having him there was more than a little unnerving.

“I am tied to you as much as I am tied to the statue.”

Nick had started to suspect that he was Dexios’s reincarnation, as Galen was Lykon’s, and this pretty much confirmed his suspicions. “Why won’t it help? Didn’t the people who wrote them have similar experiences? We’re just trying to figure it out to help and to make sense of it all.”

Dexios’s stern expression softened. “I know, but this journey is a leap of faith, a dream to dare. Reading the accounts of the men who failed will only cloud your vision.”

Nick glanced at the box, full to the brim with records, photographs, and artistic renderings of the statues. There was so much in there to discover. One of the birds trilled, breaking the silence, and Nick looked up to find that Dexios had disappeared again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

 

 

I
T
HAD
taken quite a bit of pleading on Galen’s part, but he’d managed to convince Heather to stay all day long to run the front of the museum on a Saturday. Normally, he did that stint. It was one of his favorite days of the week because they were busier than others, and he got to dump the paperwork for a day in favor of interacting with patrons.

If he’d had any other first date in mind for Nick, he wouldn’t have begged her; however, when he’d seen the ad for the Emerald City Comicon, he’d known it was perfect. And Saturday would be the best day of the con. The way he looked at it, both he and Nick were holding back. He figured that the only way they’d relax and be themselves without any pretense would be by immersing themselves in a day both fun and interesting. And if there was any way into a bona fide geek’s heart, it was a comic book convention.

Galen bounded up the outside stairwell and knocked on Nick’s apartment door. If they hurried, they’d have a chance to grab a bite of breakfast before they had to queue up. He wasn’t sure how long the line would be, but the website warned him, and he wasn’t about to ruin his surprise by taking it lightly.

He checked his watch and knocked again. The morning air was cool and damp on his skin. It was not the kind of Saturday to encourage waking up and getting out of a warm, comfortable bed. Nick answered with his toothbrush in hand, his hair in disarray, and his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips.

Well, hello.

Galen’s eyes slid over Nick’s bare chest. He had the lean, sleek, muscled build of a swimmer. Fine, dark-blond hair sparsely covered his torso and thickened to a trail down his stomach. Galen had to admit to being a fool for not allowing himself the chance to wake up to that before.

Desire stirred, and Galen had to remind himself that he’d promised Nick dates, not casual fucks. They should have at least one date before Galen lured him back to his bedroom and talked Nick into having his way with him. Besides, they would be late, and Galen didn’t want to miss one minute of Nick’s reaction when he realized where they were headed. He’d had a hard enough time keeping silent all week.

“You’re fifteen minutes early and you’re cheerful.” The accusation in Nick’s voice had Galen’s eyes jerking back up from Nick’s naked skin to his face.

Galen grinned. “And you are rabidly antimorning and underdressed.”

“Aren’t most sane people at this time?” Nick stepped back to let him in and dragged a hand through his already rumpled hair. His living room was dark with the shades still drawn, and one of Nick’s birds trilled a greeting filled with curiosity as Galen came in. “Just give me the fifteen minutes. I need to jump in the shower and down some coffee if you want replies that aren’t belligerent.”

“Wear something comfortable. We’re going to be doing a lot of walking.”

Nick paused in the doorway to his bathroom and shot a narrow-eyed look at Galen, taking in his jeans and sneakers. “That’s all the hint I get? Be comfortable, and you’re expecting me to exercise?”

“Yep.” Galen grinned at him, perversely entertained by Nick’s morning surliness. It was kind of sexy, though that might also have something to do with Nick’s half nakedness and Galen’s reawakening libido. He flipped his hands at him. “Hurry up. Trust me; you’re not going to want to drag your feet on this.”

The bathroom door shut on Nick’s mutters, and Galen chuckled. The soft whoosh and flap of wings went by him; then Rory landed by the window and pecked at the wooden slats covering it. He fixed one eye on Galen and called out a very clear demand. “I agree, Rory. It’s darker than a dungeon in here.”

Galen turned the blinds to let the gray morning light filter into the room. The clouds couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to drizzle or break apart to let the sun through. He was hoping for sun, at least until they got out of line. Then the weather could do whatever it wanted.

Nick’s living room invited people in; no wonder he’d felt out of place in Galen’s. The furniture was mismatched with a long, leather sofa and a deep, comfortable-looking green recliner. He kept the hardwood floors bare except for an area rug under the coffee table. It had a lived-in appeal Galen’s place was missing. Galen’s favorite part was Nick’s mural of photographs taken from his travels: wooly sheep dotting a field in Ireland, the steep, rocky walls of a fjord in Norway. There were a few of Nick alone, none with friends or family.

Another picture caught his eye, this one older, yellowed on the edges, not as crisp and clear as pictures nowadays. A man who looked a lot like Nick around the eyes stood next to the first Dexios statue, leaning against it. The smile he had for the camera seemed intimate, warm, and Galen wondered who had taken the photograph.

The sound of the shower stopped, and moments later the door opened. Galen couldn’t have stopped himself from stealing a quick peek if his life had depended on it. A short towel swathed Nick’s hips and water beaded on his skin. The urge to lick it from Nick’s body welled up within Galen. Nick paused, looked back at him, and a smile broke out on his lips.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

“You know I do.” Galen smiled back at him and made a little motion with his hand. “Go, change, before I say screw our schedule and pounce you. You just might end up kicking yourself for it later.”

“You’re forcing me to choose between my sex drive and curiosity. Not cool, not cool at all,” Nick called back as he went down the hallway to his bedroom. “For the record, Saturdays and schedules should not exist. It’s amoral.”

A few minutes later Nick emerged in jeans, sneakers, and a gray T-shirt that said “Men of Scarves” with Sherlock, the Fourth Doctor, and Harry Potter underneath. “Does this meet with your approval, O Ringmaster?”

“It’s perfect.” Galen tossed Nick his jacket. “Ready?”

“Yeah, let me get the kids in their cage first.” Nick caught Rory in gentle hands and transferred him to the cage as he let out a screech of protest. Amy was harder to track down. He finally got her down from the cabinets in the kitchen and let the two of them complain about their incarceration.

“So any more unannounced visits from Dexios?” Galen asked as Nick grabbed his keys and stuffed them in his jacket.

“Nope, once was enough. How about you? You’re the real magnet. You’ve had Dexios visiting, Lykon poking, and we still don’t know how those statues showed up in the first place.”

“Things have been quiet, for the most part. I’m sure it won’t last, but for now I’ll take it.” Galen grinned and caught Nick’s hand. The statues were the last things he wanted to think about today. He was too excited to see Nick’s face. “Come on.”

“Please tell me that coffee is on your agenda.”

“Yep. I figured we’d need some food to fortify us for the day ahead.” Galen shrugged back into his own jacket as he stepped outside. The morning air still held a cold nip, but he thought the threatening rain might hold off. “First stop, the Metro, then breakfast and caffeine, then my surprise.”

Nick groaned and locked the door with a shake of his head. “You’re an evil man, Galen Kanellis. Evil.”

“One does try one’s best.”

Galen had a hard time resisting Nick’s attempts to get the surprise out of him during their Metro ride. It was the anticipation of seeing his expression when they reached the convention center that stopped him from spilling his guts. Thirty minutes later, hot coffees in hand, and the remains of their breakfast sandwiches in their stomachs, Nick paused on the sidewalk outside of the café and turned to Galen.

“Now that I feel semihuman and it’s at least almost an acceptable hour to be awake on a Saturday, where to next?”

Galen grinned and pointed across the street. While they’d been inside the line had gotten longer and now wound around the side of the convention center that they faced. “There.”

Nick glanced over with an expression of bewilderment, and his eyes widened. “The Emerald City Comicon? For real? That’s awesome.” He caught Galen’s face between his hands and dropped a kiss that tingled Galen’s lips.

Galen laughed and tugged his hand to get him moving. They glanced both ways, then ran across the street, dodging traffic. “I can’t believe you agreed to go out with me today. I would’ve thought you had already made plans to go.”

“I did with some friends, but I cancelled to go out with you instead.” They got into the end of the line, standing next to a family of four dressed up like the Avengers. A grin broke out over Nick’s face. “Now this has to be the most kick-ass first date I’ve had in a long time.”

Pleased with himself, Galen took a sip of his coffee. “I’m glad you decided to cancel, though I have to admit, given your love of cons, I’m surprised you did.”

Nick gave him an odd look, then tangled their fingers together long enough to give a quick squeeze. “I guess I wanted to see what you had in store for me more than I wanted to go to the convention.”

Warmth spread through Galen’s chest, and satisfaction filled him. It had been a gamble, and it wasn’t what he would’ve normally chosen for a first date, but he’d made the right choice. Now he just had to convince Nick that he’d also made the right decision in giving him a second chance.

 

 

N
ICK
had promised himself he wasn’t going to fall for Galen. Not again. He’d bide his time and enjoy himself until Galen flitted off somewhere else. Now look at him. All those damned emotions were waking up inside of him again, urgent and aching, and he wanted to scramble back and call the whole thing off.

He couldn’t think of any other guy he’d dated in the past who’d be willing to spend an entire day at a convention, not even the ones who’d had their own latent geek tendencies, like Galen. It was probably a good sign he’d been dating the wrong men.

He set down the painted Harley Quinn glass and glanced over at Galen, who was taking more photographs. He’d been stopping everybody who had a cool costume and getting them to pose. It seemed like he was having fun too. Nick had worried for the first hour or so until he realized that Galen’s enthusiasm wasn’t going to wane.

Galen was the perfect guy, and that’s where the trap lay. It was too late to backtrack and call it off. It was like coming to the realization that he was screwed halfway up the long first climb of a rollercoaster. He couldn’t demand to get off when he was already strapped in and on his way.

Nick turned toward the vintage toys all still packed away in their pristine original boxes. He’d never had the patience to put them away and not play with them. He didn’t know how people had that kind of fortitude and foresight. The minute he got them, they were out of the box. Right now his old Millennium Falcon was stored away under his bed at his dad’s house.

A wave of longing hit him. There were times when he wanted to wind back the clock and do things in a different way. An arm slipped around his shoulders and squeezed. “Hey, what’cha thinking?” Galen asked, leaning his head toward Nick’s. “Must be serious.”

“Nothing much.” Nick set the toy down. “About my dad and all the junk I still have at his house. It must make him nuts to have it around.”

“Yeah, my mom is forever calling me about getting the last of my stuff out of the garage.” Galen’s arm fell from his shoulder, and Nick found himself missing the casual touch. He had never considered himself much of a touchy-feely kind of guy, and he’d forgotten how much Galen was forever touching, a hand to the cheek, a quick hug, a clasp of fingers. He even found himself doing the same. “Sometimes I think it’s laziness on my part, other times I think I don’t want to cut that last tie to home. It’s ludicrous, it’s not like she’s going anywhere….” Galen trailed off, then gestured with his hand. “Oooh, will you look at that? Scarves, just like the ones on your T-shirt.”

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