The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,94

obstacle than it should have. And there was nobody here. Not that he had any great expectation of a kindly nurse or trusty friend sitting by his bedside, because his experience to date had pretty much never included that, but it would have been nice.

He allowed just a moment for self-pity, then worked himself to sit upright. His hand had been strapped up and his upper arm was tightly bandaged. The bandages were stained, but not much, and the stain was dry which was presumably good. He got his feet to the floor so he could drink most of the jug of water more easily, and was contemplating lying down again when the door opened a crack and Kim peered in.

“Will? Good God, why are you up? Get back in bed.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shot. The bullet was lodged a quarter of an inch off an artery, and don’t talk to me about arteries. Lie down, damn you.”

Words harsh, hands gentle as he helped ease Will back, and brushed the hair off his forehead. “God, you scared me. When he shot you—”

Will would have liked to hear about Kim being afraid for him, and then again, not. He didn’t quite feel he could keep his equilibrium at this moment. “You scared me. What the hell was that, a sabre?”

“French, a relic of Waterloo. One of Waring’s most prized possessions. If you had any better ideas, you were welcome to put them into action.” Kim stroked his hair again. It felt good. “Oh, Will. Christ alive.”

“What happened to Cheveley?”

“Bled out. I cut his arm damn near off. The doctors did their best—said I’d done my best to save him, and that he could probably have lived if we’d been in London to get him a transfusion. We weren’t.”

“Was that your first?”

“My first kill?” Kim’s fingers moved through his hair. “Yes. Yes, it was. I’ve indirect death to my credit but I never...”

“He’d have killed me,” Will said. “I saw it in his face.” He couldn’t swear to it, in truth; Cheveley had looked panicked and desperate, but you never knew what a panicked, desperate man would do. He might just as likely have run for the motor, or shot someone else, or himself. But Kim needed the reassurance, and the touch of fingers to his right hand suggested it was appreciated.

“Thank you,” Kim said softly. “You know, the worst part is, everyone keeps telling me that it’s all right because I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did. You don’t slash at someone with a sodding sabre if you don’t mean it.”

“My aim was to make him drop the gun, but I had absolutely no interest in preserving his life, especially at your expense. I intended to hit him as hard as I could, and I did, and it killed him. I killed him.”

Will squeezed his hand. “I owe you one. I don’t know why the bastard had it in for me like that.”

“I do,” Kim said. “I wouldn’t have stood a chance without you, and he knew it. And more than that—when he threatened you, he was watching my face. He’d have killed you to hurt me. I’m quite sure of that.” His voice was strained.

“Then no guilt. Or I’ll think you regret saving me, and that would hurt my feelings.”

Kim bowed his head, brushing his lips over Will’s fingers. “We couldn’t have that. Thank you for the idea, by the way.”

“What idea?”

“‘The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall.’ I’ve seen those swords so often; it hadn’t previously occurred to me they had a use beyond decoration.”

“It wouldn’t have occurred to me that anyone covering their walls in blades would be fool enough to keep them sharp.”

“Same,” Kim said wholeheartedly. “I was expecting the bloody thing to be dull as a stick: that’s why I hit him so hard. I wanted to knock the gun out of his hand.”

“Well, it worked. Sort of.”

Kim laughed at that, but it was the kind of laugh that hurt. Will disengaged his fingers in order to reach up, and get an arm round his neck, and hold on to him while his shoulders heaved.

“Sorry,” Kim said after a while. He’d slid to his knees, leaning over the bed so his head was pillowed on Will’s chest, and Will could stroke his hair. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for. We’ve all been there. I threw up after my first.”

“Done that. Twice.”

“Well, then.”

A moment slid by in silence. That was all right with Will, feeling Kim’s warmth and weight.