Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle #3) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,115

some kind of wild meal. We’ll go in a few moments. I’m enjoying the post-coital hugs you like so much.”

“I do like my hugs. Think they’d understand if we didn’t show up?” Just then, Cort’s stomach growled.

“I think they would, but your stomach wouldn’t.” Grey chuckled and cupped the back of Cort’s neck. He nuzzled his forehead. “Come on. We’ll go eat, clean up and come home for more honeymoon sex.”

“Honeymoon, I like that. Too bad we can’t take a real one.”

“I promise to take you somewhere nice when this is all over.”

Cort’s eyes were suddenly serious. “You have to stay alive. I couldn’t stand losing you now that I’ve found you.”

“I’ll do my best. I have something even bigger to fight for, after all.”

“Saving the world is pretty damn big.”

“But so is having you in my life.” He kissed him softly. “Come on, let’s go get this dinner out of the way so we can come back here. I don’t plan to let you sleep tonight.”

Cort grinned and scrambled out of the bed.

Chapter 25

“Shorten your stride a little,” Cort whispered, and Grey had to clench his teeth to keep from snapping at his mate. He wasn’t annoyed at Cort but at himself. How could he have forgotten all of this already?

Cort had been whispering small instructions in his ear since they’d left the SUV, trying to help Grey maintain the guise of blindness for as long as possible. It was a hell of a lot harder than he’d been anticipating. He knew that Cort was pulling off weeks of knowledge from working together. There was no question Cort knew exactly what he was talking about. Why couldn’t Grey get this right?

Of course, his mind was on searching for other pestilents, possible threats, and John rather than concentrating on the length of his gait or the way he was holding his head.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re more nervous than I am?” Cort inquired. There was a tiny hint of humor in his voice, but it was enough to get Grey to relax his shoulders. “You’ve done this before. Met the pestilents. Kicked their ass. Come home safely.”

“Yes, but I’ve never done it while bonded to my mate,” Grey muttered. “Clay’s been lucky that Dane always stays behind at the house. He’s not worried about something happening to his mate during the fight.”

“No, but Dane is left at home terrified that he’s going to lose Clay like he lost his wife.”

Grey’s heart twisted and ached at Cort’s words. Prior to meeting Clay, Dane had been married with a young son, but he’d lost both in a home invasion gone horribly wrong. It was amazing the man had been willing to put his heart out there again.

“True.”

“And apparently this is the first time that Wiley has been left behind,” Cort added, the mild amusement returning to his voice.

The news that Wiley would not be accompanying them to the mall had not been greeted with quiet dignity and acceptance on Wiley’s part. The young man refused to accept that he couldn’t be of some help to the Circle. It had taken more than a little coaxing and even some tough love on Baer’s part to get through to his mate that he was safer at home than in the middle of the fight with a power that wasn’t exactly helpful. He’d been a great help against Ardette, but Wiley’s gift was limited to the minds of animals and so far, the only magical weapon John had attacked them with was the enthrallment of humans.

“I would have preferred that you remained behind with them,” Grey murmured. He squeezed Cort’s arm where he was holding it just above the elbow. “I want you safe.”

“It’ll be fine. You focus on your job,” Cort said confidently.

Grey closed his eyes and let that feeling slip through him. He was confident that he could handle John. And he was confident that his brothers could keep Cort safe. He was even confident that Cort was smart enough to get himself out of danger. Grey’s main fear was if Cort was faced with an enthralled human. His lover wouldn’t intentionally harm an innocent person, and these people under John’s control were completely innocent.

As they entered the mall, Grey struggled with the urge to look around at his surroundings. He could manage a little, thanks to the dark sunglasses he’d snatched from Baer. If John thought it was strange, he was ready with an excuse of headaches. The glasses