How close to true that was.
The wolf-soul bowed and backed away. From here, I could see the young man’s eyes widen. Umber yanked him close. A slim finger traced the line of his cheek. “You need not even remember this came to pass. Attend me.”
The lord of crows sunk back into the shadows, the man locked in step. No, he need not remember. In a sense he didn’t have a choice—it would be easy to bully a “sale” from someone who was overcome with guilt for a brawl gone wrong. Umber would devour the substance of his mind, digesting it into whatever dark corridor in which he stored Serenity’s sins. In theory one would only receive amnesia if they asked, but Umber had always struck me eerily eager to overstep.
I wanted desperately to not have come. To be asleep, to at least have the void back.
The youth I’d healed was taken from me and the crowd began to diffuse back into its cloud of motion. After what felt like lifetimes, I pushed myself to my feet.
My wings ached. The price of the silver poisoning was hitting me now. This had been a mistake.
“My, my, my.” The words descended on me like rain. They drew a shiver down my back. “Looks like you’re the savior of all creatures great and small, not just strangers who fall from heaven.”
I turned slowly, not quite believing. But there he was. Hei. A still spot in the din, mere paces away. Smiling knowingly. Like he’d been waiting for a chance to see me do exactly this all along.
My abashed laugh seemed to be something he made happen, extracted from me. I couldn’t help it. “You should know that ‘savior’ is probably a misnomer, though.”
He bit his bottom lip. “What’s in a name?”
Another laugh. Damn. “Not much, honestly.”
We looked at each other for a few moments. He looked...different. Less like some uncaring youth who’d run across the tundra. Swathed in a form-fitting black leotard and tight coat, the graceful lines of his body in relief. Silver poisoning rendered the ground unsteady, twisted my sensations in on each other. Yet Hei was solid. Clear.
I glanced to my feet. “This is...what I meant. About running into each other.”
“Right.” His voice was light. “You were afraid you’d only see me as a patient.”
Or worse. That I would see him next as a blood-donor who’d sold his past, vacated of the person I’d met.
“That tells me something.” His scent was suddenly close. Not a whiff of alcohol, no fumes, nothing like silver. No wonder he seemed so steady when everything else was off-kilter. Probably the only sober fucker in the whole quarter. “That I’m about to prove again what a thrill-seeker I am.”
That brought my gaze up to his. He was leaning in, near enough to whisper so that I would hear and others wouldn’t.
His mouth curved sweetly, pointedly. “I think I like you already.”
Then those lips touched me, gracing the side of my cheek. It could barely be called contact, finished in less than a second. But it was damp, and hot, and boiled through all of my senses. My thoughts slowed to uselessness. He backed away, winking. With a gesture, he’d faded again into the crowd, the blur of bodies trammeling down his scent.
Had I not held him in my arms, felt his weight, I could’ve believed he was a ghost. Maybe even the ghost of someone I had once known—or wanted to know.
* * *
I didn’t go home. Somehow, it seemed the escape was wasted. Hei had killed it. May as well scrape my thoughts back off the ground and see if any of them were worth salvaging.
Tamueji found me as I lurked in a bar, knee deep in my drink. This was a little startling. I couldn’t recall her ever coming to me before, and she’d done so twice tonight. Had I ever seen her at one of Kadzuhikhan’s parties before? Had I felt less hollow, this might have seemed an encouraging overture of friendship.
She sighed. “You look like dog’s shit. A sick dog’s shit. Eat something.”
Her word choice brought a grimace to my lips. “After you.”
A chuckle. “Here.” She deposited a sack next to my seat; it opened on a thin container, steaming with what looked and smelled like pork tossed in garlic and oil, some green onions, maybe a bit of offal.
There was that tummy rumble again, and this was actual food, not some party-going rush of body fluid. “Did Umber tell you to look after me?”
Her expression became amused but sad, and she folded her brawny arms across her chest. “Right. He’s nurturing that way.”
I raised the cup, slid the container under my nose. “Point, match. Thanks. I was actually kind of famished.”
“No telling.” A shake of her head, quiver of wings. “I’d say it was good to see you here amongst the living, Ari. But. You know. It’s not. Such as it is.”
I nodded. That groove had been well worn recently; no need for her to explain. “Thanks. Again.”
“Don’t thank me.” Tamueji ducked her head, and stepped back into a thermal wind, billowing up in flight.
It was a little sad to see her go. I wouldn’t have minded the bit of company. But who really knew what kind of company would be satisfying in return to the Watcher of Shadows.
I forced myself to eat. Objectively, it tasted good—it had to. Oily, rich, meaty, salty. But it felt like swallowing patches of greasy human skin. The torn flesh of that boy. Ugh. I paused until the image passed and ate some more.
And wrestled with the alarm burning in my veins. It had pounded out all the silver by now. Something was wrong. I just didn’t know if it was inside me, outside me, or both.
Hei. Was he...alive? Living-again? He smelled, looked, and felt mortal and human. And he also invaded my thoughts, had cracked open a chasm in me after two meetings of mere minutes each. An introduction, a laugh, a kiss. He seemed to stand out from the tide of faces, a shape that remained still in the mercury. I was thinking about him.
I think I like you already.
Maybe he was some kind of professional stalker Kadzuhikhan had trained. A new sexual oddity—a prey that hunted you. Maybe he’d been designed to peel off my skin, destroy the few barriers I’d been able to build between myself and the city. Maybe he was a witch, trying to bottle the contents of my heart for some arcane purpose.
Maybe I kind of wanted to fuck him. Bend him over the windowsill in my room and not stop until I’d drawn out the deepest squeal of pleasure he had in him. Feel that boiling energy of his mouth, let his desire eclipse my numbness.
I chewed on a disgusted groan. No. I was tired of looking to Serenity to make me feel again. It never seemed to work.
What I needed was a way out of Serenity—a real way out. To untangle its overgrowth from inside of me, reclaim something of what a life could be.