Durance by Lyn Gala Page 0,35

But no one had ever warned him that he might fail at the job of protecting him at all. Sometimes being in love sucked. No one had warned him about that.

Chapter Twelve

Darren took shallow breaths and tried to ignore the way Kavon's weight on his right side made his body tilt and his muscles ache. Despite the physical pain it caused, he needed the emotional connection right now. “Coretta is going to be annoyed that he didn't get a statement,” Darren said. Of course, she was far more likely to blame Kavon than Les.

“Wait,” Darren said as Kavon’s earlier words finally filtered through his drug-addled mind. “Did you say Assistant Director White was here?”

Kavon sighed. “You were attacked on a public street.”

“I was in an SUV that was attacked, and I’m pretty sure White doesn’t show up every time an agent wrecks a car. Hell, I was still trying to come up with a good cover story.” Depending on the damage to the building, the attack might exceed even his ability to lie. As much as Salma had always talked about the power of the durance, Darren hadn’t thought of a guide as a creature capable of throwing an SUV. Sure, Bennu had the raw power, but he didn’t have the precision or inclination.

“I don’t think a cover story is possible,” Kavon said, but then he never liked even the little lies. Darren was more morally flexible on that front.

“Why not?”

“Between the three guides on that street, we appear to have blown up a good chunk of the street, so....” Kavon shrugged. Weariness and shame rolled off him like a heavy fog.

“Oh.” Darren didn’t know what else to say. Their record couldn’t look good at this point. Even before Bennu, Kavon had a reputation for property damage. Darren wondered if Bennu had ever given Kavon’s spells a little push back then. But now... it was as if they were on a regular schedule. Take out a street every twelve months, a building every eight.

Kavon drew a gentle circle with his fingers over Darren's sternum. “White is worried about how you're doing.” Kavon’s touch warmed Darren, and he longed for more even as he knew his body wouldn't handle it well.

“How angry is he?” Darren asked. When he lowered his barriers, the magic flowed between them.

“He’s not. He’s treating this like an attempted murder and he’s having Unit Three investigate.”

Darren frowned. Maybe the center was giving him the good drugs because that made no sense. “What exactly are they supposed to do?” Darren had a lot of respect for Unit Three. There were some damn good investigators on that team, but none of them had any experience with Talent. And at least two of them were mildly anti-Talent. They used to show a certain sympathy toward Darren for being stuck on a Talent team. They weren’t Darren's first choice for investigating a Talent-based crime. “I thought Coretta had the scene?”

Kavon didn’t say anything for several minutes. Darren could not handle Kavon going into shutdown mode. Not now. Finally Kavon said, “She does. And White can't pull her until someone makes a decision about what to do with the magic that spilled onto that street. But he wants someone objective to investigate the actual attack.”

“Spillage? Bad?”

“I assume. Coretta says that the dead magic on the street is bigger than anything she's ever seen.” Kavon sounded so damn neutral and unemotional, but the bond screeched like fingernails down a chalkboard.

Coretta had been there for O’Brien’s failed spell, for Bennu’s magical storm when they’d bonded, for the gas station incident, and the aftermath of Angel Zamora’s showdown with Luschesce, when Bennu had dropped a fucking nuclear bomb of magic. And now they had created the biggest spill yet. Fuck, no wonder the black market for magical objects was in overdrive. Darren let out a shaky breath.

Kavon kept tracing circles against Darren’s shoulder, and his body warmed Darren’s side. “White is considering having the Djedi Center investigate, but we’ll have to see what he decides to do.” Kavon had a stillness that suggested he was trying hard to control his reactions.

“How much does he know?” Darren asked softly. In the past he had avoided asking questions about the politics of Kavon’s job. But Darren had too many unknowns in his life right now. He needed information.

“Not much.” Guilt flooded the bond, but so did a perverse determination. Kavon was tying himself into an emotional knot. He continued. “I told him someone could be targeting me