Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,46

heaving, and he shook his head in denial. “No. I can’t.”

A mixture of embarrassment and worry crashed down over Sebastian. He jumped up and took a step back, hands out before him. “I’m so sorry. I thought—”

“Don’t apologize.” Ves scrambled to his feet and edged around Sebastian, toward the door. “It-it’s not you. I just—I can’t.”

He fled through the door and down the turret steps. A few moments later, he emerged from the front of the house and ran down the street as though being chased by demons.

“Fuck.” Sebastian sank down in the chair Ves had vacated, cradling his head in his hands. “Stupid, stupid.”

Ves wandered the streets aimlessly, long after full night fell over Widdershins. He could still taste Sebastian on his lips, feel the brush of his thigh through their trousers.

In some other world, the moment could have been perfect. The drink had relaxed him, but not so much that he hadn’t ached at Sebastian’s nearness the entire time they sat on the balcony. The moment Sebastian kissed him, his skin had felt on fire, his cock straining against his trousers.

In that other world, he would have wrapped his arms around Sebastian, pulled him into his lap, and discovered where things went from there. They might even now be in Sebastian’s bed, limbs tangled, skin touching.

But he didn’t live in that world. And in this one, he’d been a fool to let down his guard for even a moment.

He imagined the expression of disgust on Sebastian’s face if he’d seen him unclothed. Would he have attacked Ves? Or simply run downstairs, shouting for Captain Degas to fetch a weapon?

Ves found himself on the docks, a part of town he’d not been in before. The sea lapped against the quays, and fishing boats bobbed with the gentle movement. Ropes creaked, and the voices of sailors still at work aboard one of the trans-Atlantic cargo ships carried clear over the water.

He kept wandering, past the commercial part of the port, then past the area allotted to smaller, private craft. Eventually, he reached a long pier likely used for fishing. It was deserted now, so he wandered all the way to the end and stood staring out at the restless waves.

He should never have helped Sebastian. Should have kept his distance. If he’d just done that, he’d be quietly finishing the map he owed Fagerlie, instead of getting no work done on it whatsoever today. He’d take it to Fagerlie, have the curse lifted from himself and Noct, and leave town Friday morning.

Instead, he’d gotten involved. Let himself make a friend. The sort of friend who kissed him in the twilight, and who he wanted very badly to kiss back.

But if he hadn’t gotten involved, if the men who had followed Sebastian had their way, Sebastian might even now be buried somewhere in a shallow grave beside O’Neil.

Ves sat down, dangling his feet over the water. The waves sparkled in the light of the half-moon. Fins cut through the water farther out, though he couldn’t have guessed what sort of creature they might belong to. Dolphin? Orca? Shark? Something else entirely? As he’d told Sebastian, nothing in this town was what it seemed.

He felt a kinship with the creature, whatever it might be. Like fins above the water, only a small part of himself could be glimpsed; the rest remained hidden from sight. It had bothered him before, of course, but never so much as it did now.

Had Fagerlie killed O’Neil to open up the binder’s position for Ves to fill? Whether he had or not, Ves couldn’t pretend anymore that this was simply about stealing a rare book. Fagerlie had to be after the Book of Breath, assuming that was the Book of the Bound in the library. Given he’d been attacked by a spirit that used wind and whispers, it seemed a fair guess.

O’Neil had speculated the comet might exert some sort of influence on the book. And Fagerlie insisted on having the map no later than Wednesday afternoon, mere hours before the comet’s tail brushed the earth.

Had he ever meant to free Ves and Noct from the curse?

Why had Ves been so stupid as to leave Noct with Fagerlie? He should have insisted on bringing his brother along on the train, hidden in a crate. But when Fagerlie had offered a ride in a closed carriage from Boston, with a stay in a private home rather than a tiny room in a boarding house, it seemed to make