Lacuna - N.R. Walker Page 0,36

we let them have weapons?”

“No!” Karasu yelled from the door to her room.

Tancho grumbled, walked into his room, and kicked the door shut.

He knew he was acting like a child, but so help him, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Every single thing about Crow drove him to madness. He lost all reason around him. He wanted to fight and push back, and if he couldn’t use his blades on him, then the very least he could do was cut him with words.

He stood in the small lodging room and took another deep breath in some futile attempt at self-control. “I am better than this,” he whispered to himself. “I am stronger. I have been trained for this.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d been trained in many things. But being subjected to and mysteriously tethered to a man who plucked his strings like a lyre was not one of them.

Tancho was angry at himself for not having better control of his emotions. Even with his birthmark curse, and his connection to Crow, he still should have better control.

All those long hours of meditation, of blocking out all else while centring his thoughts, should have prepared him better than this.

He remembered his lessons with Asagi. He remembered all the breathing techniques and mind-calming measures. He was determined to do better, to be in control.

And that worked just fine . . . until they went into the bathhouse and he saw Crow’s half-naked body before he had the presence of mind to look away. Tancho had reassured them all it was ridiculous to make everyone else wait to bathe because he and Crow were unable to be in the same room as each other. Which was ridiculous, because they couldn’t not be in the same room as each other.

So into the bathhouse together they went. Where the only bath was a large circular tub made of stone, cut into the floor. Tancho hadn’t realised they’d have to share a bath. A bathroom, yes. But a bath? He was about to raise the question with Crow and turned to face him . . .

Only to find Crow had taken off his shirt, just peeled it away without any consideration of Tancho and how it made his pulse thunder. Crow’s torso was muscled and strong, pale, and sweet mercy, there was a smattering of hair on his chest.

Tancho gasped at the sight of it. Never had he seen such a man . . .

Crow turned at the sound, and Tancho quickly pretended to be untying the bandage around his wrist, which now that he thought about it, had begun to sting.

“Tancho?” Crow asked, walking over. He snatched up Tancho’s wrist and made quick work of the bandage. “You sounded pained, are you hurt?”

Tancho couldn’t answer. He couldn’t think straight. Not with him so close, still shirtless, his beautiful chest, his strong arms, his smell . . . He was lightheaded with the thrill of it.

“No, I’m fine,” Tancho mumbled, remembering Crow had asked him a question.

Crow finished unwrapping the bandage to reveal Tancho’s wrist, still with the balm layered over his birthmark but with red angry skin underneath.

“It’s red raw,” Crow said, a scowl across his brow. He led him over toward the bath, and taking a cloth from the water, he gently washed the balm off. “You’re lucky this isn’t infected.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Tancho said quietly. “I’d not felt it until just now.”

Crow had such big hands, rough and calloused, but his touch was gentle and kind. “That balm might numb a wound, but you’ve only served to cause yourself more injury,” he said as though he was mad—mad that Tancho should have known better—but his tone was soft as if he couldn’t bear the thought of Tancho being in pain. “Does it bother you?”

Tancho shook his head. He would have answered any damn thing to appease Crow while he touched his arm. Tancho felt his cheeks warm with a blush, so he pulled his arm free before Crow could see. “Thank you,” he whispered, turning away. Keeping his back to Crow, Tancho began to unbutton his shirt. When he could trust his voice not to betray him, he said, “They’ll assume we’ve drowned each other if we take too long.”

He concentrated on undressing and was just about to take his pants down when he heard the splash of water. He turned quickly to see the back of a very naked Crow sinking into the bath. The long lines of muscle, the