Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,38

Darien glanced at where assorted clothing hung damply on the shower rail.

He wanted Darien warm and dry. And in my clothes, damn it. “Those look wet. I have lots of pajamas.”

“All right.”

That left him no excuse not to back out and shut the door, leaving Darien to do what he needed. But he had every excuse to rush down to the kitchen, three steps at a time, for a glass of milk for his boy— man. And to dig out his warmest pair of pajamas and stand ready to pass them in, while water flushed behind the closed door.

Chapter 9

Darien gripped the sink, his arms tensing as he swayed, and stared into the mirror. He wanted the bed— Jesus, gonna be heaven to lie down— but he couldn’t fight the need to look again. What the hell happened to me?

Stupid question, right? You gave up a bunch of life force, and now you look like an old troll and who knows what else changed?

Objectively, he had to admit Silas was right. He looked like a man in his thirties. In fact, he looked freakily like his father, and that wasn’t helping his gut settle down. I’m twenty-one motherfucking years old! He wanted to scream that at the top of his lungs, but it would change nothing and he didn’t have the energy.

Maybe a nap will help. Maybe some food. That was energy, right? Maybe there was a cure, a reversal potion that healer-woman knew. Maybe someone can fix this.

That idea settled into his rolling gut with a hollow thunk that showed how little he believed it, but he was going to try. He was going to put on the ridiculous striped pajamas that Silas’s hand had deposited around the door, and stagger to bed, and pretend things would be fine when he woke up. It was a plan.

The putting on part meant getting to the door. His legs shook and letting go of the sink wasn’t happening until he eased himself to the floor. Once down, he butt-scooted over there, wincing, and wrestled himself out of his filthy socks and muddy-bottomed plaid pants. It was harder than he expected— his brain so cotton-wooly that he sobbed in frustration as he tried to skin the damned pants off his legs. The fresh pajamas were ugly and also too long, but they were clean and soft and warm.

He was struggling to button the top when Silas tapped on the door, then stuck his head around. “Are you all right? Can I help? You got quiet.”

It was too much effort to tweak at Silas for listening at the door like a creeper. Darien just leaned against the wall, waved a hand, and was glad when Silas came and crouched down by him. “What can I do?”

Darien tugged at the buttons fretfully. “They won’t go.”

Silas gently pushed his hands aside. “Let me.” Either he was a super-fast buttoner or time got glitchy because next thing Darien knew, the top was buttoned snug to his chin. Silas gave his front a little pat, and said… something Darien didn’t make out. Next thing, he was being lifted and carried over to the big bed. Silas laid him on the heavenly, amazing, soft mattress, but when he would’ve backed away, Darien grabbed his arms and pulled.

The unexpected move put Silas off balance and he fell heavily onto Darien. Darien huffed as the air was driven from his lungs, but it was a safe, good feeling, to be pinned to the bed by Silas. It steadied something he thought might detach and float away from inside him.

“Sorry!” Silas made an effort to get up, but Darien stymied it by wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Stay here. Please.” He pushed his nose against Silas’s throat and took a big whiff of safety and home.

“I’m squishing you.”

“Not nearly enough.” He could hear the slur in his own voice, and he wasn’t thinking about sex, but he got his other arm around Silas’s back and held on as if he could make them merge again somehow.

“Hush,” Silas said. “It’s all right now. Shh.”

The words confused Darien, until the catch in his throat and shaking of his chest somehow registered. Ah, hell, I’m not crying. Fucking not! He rubbed his cheek against Silas’s shoulder in a futile effort to stem the tears.

“Shh.” Silas rolled a bit to the side, but he didn’t try to get loose. He reached around Darien’s back and pulled him closer. “I’ve got you.”

“I was afraid he’d kill