Chapter 19

AUbrEY

The frantic beat of Aubrey’s heart didn’t slow until the gates of Rosehill were visible in the distance. Calix’s estate was a beautiful Tudor-style brick manor with elegant wood shutters painted a soft green and a deep emerald front door bearing a magnolia-leaf wreath. The grounds were lined with perfectly trimmed hedges; the curling arch of a large trellis was easily spotted to the right, where black-thorned rose bushes waited for spring’s kiss. The sound of the carriage and horses over the gravel path to the manor’s front sent that very front door flying open, and pounding down the concrete steps was Richard.

“Thank God,” Richard said as he rushed forward while Aubrey swung down from their newly acquired horse. Ethaniel managed to get to the carriage door first, and Aubrey watched the other man’s face flicker with annoyance. “Calix!”

Calix carefully opened the carriage door. “Lawton’s inside, ” Calix said. “Richard, Ethaniel, can you help me get him to a room? His wounds need tending to.”

Richard fell quiet after peering inside the carriage, then nodded. “Yes, of course.” The nod he gave Aubrey was silent with the heavy weight they were all bearing. Aubrey knew Richard would do whatever Calix needed, and that knowledge made the squirming fear in his stomach settle a mite.

As Richard and Ethaniel carried Lawton’s limp form between them, Aubrey drew Calix aside with a hand to his shoulder. The younger man was sweaty and disheveled, his shirt streaked with dirt and blood and gods knew what else from his friend’s injuries. “Calix, look at me,” Aubrey said. He recognized the wild look in the other man’s eyes, that panic and worry and helplessness that all bound up into a Gordian knot. “Is there a doctor in that village we passed? Or in the next town over?”

Calix blinked slowly, his brow furrowed as he thought. “I um…yes. Dr. Bilstein. She lives just down the road with her family. Her husband runs a dairy farm. But can we trust anyone else?” He swallowed hard, gaze going to the open front door, as if he could still see Lawton through the layers of wood and brick. “Lawton’s injuries are very clearly not normal.”

Aubrey knew it would come to this eventually, but having the decision made for him in this way was nothing he could have expected. He knew his family’s recipes and treatments. He knew their magic. His power shared the same roots, even if it had branched off into its own tree. It had been a very long time since he’d done anything but minor healing on anyone outside himself.

Aubrey had made the decision during the last hour or so on the road. Trusting Lawton’s injuries to anyone else would draw attention. They might have a few days, or a few weeks, to decide on next steps, but an injured man sporting a strange burn and multiple other wounds would become gossip. No, they couldn’t trust anyone outside the manor, that much was certain.

He turned back to Calix, determination set in his tone. “If I draw up a list of what I need, do you think the doctor would sell me the supplies?”

At that, Calix cocked his head. “What kind of supplies?”

“Bandages, of course. Some herbs—”

At that, much to Aubrey’s surprise, Calix smiled. “We have all that.”

“Really?”

Calix nodded and began pulling their few belongings from the carriage. “I’ll have Richard handle the horses while we go check on how Ethaniel’s fairing with Lawton. Then I’ll show you the greenhouse.”

Aubrey couldn’t help it. Something about Calix’s joy, in the midst of constant tragedy and danger, drew him in. He cupped Calix’s face between his hands and when Calix made a soft sound, Aubrey kissed him. Like a yew in the wind, Calix bent to his touch, and it was the easiest thing to drop one hand so he could run his fingers down Calix’s throat.

“Well, that’s unfair,” Ethaniel said from behind them. Aubrey only drew back a little to yank his other lover in by the collar, kissing Ethaniel hard as well.

“It’s only unfair if I were to start playing favorites,” Aubrey murmured after they broke apart. “And that’s not going to be an issue.”

With Lawton safely tucked away in a guest room, Ethaniel and Richard began making an early dinner while Calix walked Aubrey through the rest of the house. It was beautifully decorated in jewel-toned wallpapers and plush rugs, and, to Aubrey’s delight, almost every living space had at least one floor-to-ceiling bookcase practically groaning under embossed leather tomes. Calix seemed much more relaxed here, too. He’d finally let his shoulders pull away from his ears and he talked to Aubrey as they passed through the house, noting the various rooms with clear fondness.

“It’s usually just Richard and I here, plus Marie, the housekeeper, and Martha, a woman from the village who comes up every few days to cook.” They paused in the open doorway to a beautiful kitchen, where copper pans gleamed from their hooks and the massive fireplace put out enough heat to fill even the hallway in which they stood.

Aubrey found himself entranced by the fire’s glow, but instead of comforting, the flames only reminded him of what he’d so recently lost. Material objects meant little to him, but the obsidian and marble altar and the glazed jar of his father’s ashes were irreplaceable. In those flames, he saw more than what had been destroyed; he saw his father’s hands carefully shifting a bowl of bright red feathers, his movements slow and measured as though the feathers were as fragile as glass. That image shifted, blurry and hazy, until Aubrey then saw his father’s body outside the meticulously kept horse stable, crumpled on the ground like a discarded corn husk.

You’ve disappointed me again, son. You always disappoint, and the passing years have not changed that. You couldn’t even protect me after my death. My only son.

Aubrey grit his teeth against the intrusive thoughts. On a normal day, the thoughts might have risen, but he could have swept them away with an errant flick. Now, after days of exhaustion and stress and the sudden reappearance of someone who clearly caused a large portion of the chaos? He wasn’t strong enough to ignore it.

“Garden, you said?” he asked, twisting to see Calix watching him with a concerned expression. “I’m fine, only tired.”

Calix nodded. “We all are. But you looked so…lost for a moment.” Calix ran his fingers down Aubrey’s sleeve and somewhere deep in his bones, Aubrey felt a pang of longing. Not lust, not carnal desire. Only the thick, heavy want of touch. Connection.

“I might have gotten distracted,” Aubrey said softly as he leaned in. Calix immediately, instinctively bent to him; every time he did, it made Aubrey’s head spin. Calix was the opposite of Ethaniel in so many ways, and yet in them both Aubrey saw the strength, the resilience. The intelligence and open hearts. He was the strong, tall, stalwart one. Cold, sometimes. Was it so wrong that he sought another’s warmth, craved it in a way for which he had no words?

“I think you’re even more distracted now,” Calix teased, his voice barely above a whisper. “Now’s not the time but…”

“Calix?” Aubrey chanced a touch to Calix’s cheek, just the backs of his fingers.

“The gardens. Right.” Calix gave him a wobbly smile but didn’t turn away from Aubrey’s touch. He did put one hand on the satchel still around his torso. “I should put this in the vault. But perhaps the safe is better? There’s nothing in the safe except some old papers of my mother’s.”

“I think the safe is best, for now. You said the house was warded?” Aubrey asked.

That earned him a smile. “You didn’t even feel it, did you?” Calix’s long fingers dipped into his tunic and he pulled out a silver medallion on a sparkling chain. “The wards…learn, for lack of a better word. I think I felt something similar when we arrived at the Collectio.” Aubrey nodded, and Calix continued. “The wards are my mother’s invention. She dabbled in many arcane and esoteric arts, but her wards are the strongest I know. I fully believe we’ll be secure here. So I suppose the safe will do until I can show you both the vault.”

Calix led Aubrey into a small hallway, then to the right, where a simple wood door stood shut. When he opened it, Aubrey felt the pop of a ward releasing, the magic old but strong and leaving little tingling waves moving up and down his skin.

The study itself was largely inobtrusive, dominated by a beautiful mahogany desk, heavy bookshelves of the same wood built into the walls. The thick velvet curtains were drawn, and the scent of dust lingered in the air. Calix snapped his fingers and two sconces on the wall leapt to life, their merry orange flames providing just enough light to navigate by.

“Give me a moment,” Calix said as he headed for one bookshelf. Aubrey nodded, ready to help if needed, watching as Calix pulled a large handkerchief from a small end table, then opened the satchel with his uncovered hand. He looked up at Aubrey for a long moment and said, “I don’t suppose we should simply toss this thing into a fire and spend the season curled up in my bed together?”

A very tempting idea. The mere suggestion of it brought to life hazy images in Aubrey’s mind, the three of them tangled together in dark red sheets. He could finally relearn Ethaniel’s body while memorizing Calix’s, leaving them both shaking and moaning and pleading for more.

It was a very good idea. One he’d like to find time for later.

“Fire might only anger it, to be honest,” Aubrey finally replied. “Sentient objects are incredibly rare. Very little is known about them. I’ve only ever read reports of their existence.” He had to chuckle before saying, “It’s why I was at the auction. There was a diary of a court mage from the time of John Dee and his tenure with Queen Elizabeth I. Rumor had it the court mage had documented many of Dee’s so-called predictions, and had written extensively about Dee’s fortune board, as he called it. A simple wooden board Dee swore could help him prognosticate answers the Queen posed.” Aubrey pinned Calix with a look. “A sentient, fortune-telling wooden board.”

To his surprise, Calix burst out laughing. “That’s…surely that’s fake.”

Aubrey shrugged. “That’s what I wanted to find out. I can read the history of an item, and I was hoping that book had something to tell.”

“I wonder if we would have met again, had you won that lot,” Calix said, his expression suddenly, painfully sad. “But no matter. We’re here now.”

He bunched the handkerchief in his hand and slowly pulled Convergence from the satchel. Calix wasted no time in pressing his free hand to the bookshelf, palm flat against three books. With a grinding sound, a section of the bottom shelf popped open. Calix carefully wrapped the book in the cloth, then set it into the drawer that made up the false shelf. Another press of his palm made the drawer slide back, and the bookshelf was whole once more. There was a faint click from the drawer, but it was vastly overshadowed by the pulse of POWER from the safe itself. Temptation lay heavy on his brow, making Aubrey itch to take up his monocle and examine the vault’s patterns, its very construction. He didn’t want to be rude, however, and he highly suspected he’d want and need time and proper mental capacity for such an endeavor.

“Well,” Calix said, brushing off his pants, “That’s done. Somehow I feel better already, knowing that blasted thing is locked away for a bit.” His eyes rolled up to look at the ceiling. “Now to Lawton. Can I help you gather what you need? My mother was a bit of an herbalist, so there’s yarrow, mint, rosemary, calendula, and almost anything you might want.”

That made Aubrey breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes. Help would be most welcome.”

Calix led them back to the kitchen for a basket and shears, then had Aubrey follow him into the back of the house. The hothouse was attached to the manor’s east-facing sitting room, closed off by a door of thick glass that, when he touched it, sent radiating warmth up Aubrey’s arm. “Ah, the wards are sometimes temperamental,” Calix said, pausing as Aubrey shook out his hand. “But I’m with you. It won’t be an issue.”

“That’s good to know,” Aubrey said as he gazed around in awe at the neatly ordered raised bed jammed with herbs and medicinal plants. It was a beautiful space, and he could imagine a young Calix kneeling beside his mother, gently taking stalks and stems and flowers and leaves and placing them in the very basket Calix now carried.

Together, they slowly made their way through each bed, Aubrey snipping off what he might need while Calix carefully added each piece and adding it to his basket. They didn’t speak over those quiet minutes, surrounded by the fading afternoon sun and a bevy of sweet-smelling plants and humid air.

Something like peace washed over Aubrey and from Calix’s little sigh as they rounded the last garden bed, he was feeling a similar way.

“I’ll go see to Mr. Adler,” Aubrey said, gently taking the basket from Calix as they re-entered the sitting room. “You should rest.”

Calix shook his head. “If I lie down now, I won’t get up until morning. Or perhaps I’ll be terribly lazy and not rise until the afternoon.”

Aubrey had to smile at that. Calix managed to sound both very responsible and wistful at the same time. “That sounds lovely,” he admitted.

Calix smiled, but it only lasted for a moment before he broke eye contact to gaze down at the floor, his body curling in on itself; a signal Aubrey was learning to read as unconscious but clear doubt or sorrow. It was perhaps a little of both, in the case of his friend.

For good luck, he rubbed his fingertips over Calix’s cheek, allowing himself one grazing touch to the younger man’s jaw before saying, “I’ll do my best for Mr. Adler. If the wounds are superficial, then he’ll heal with time and rest and the right salves.”

“If?”

“If,” Aubrey replied firmly. “I simply don’t know yet.” He gave Calix a little nudge with his shoulder. “I’ll send Ethaniel down to you. In the kitchen for tea, perhaps?”

“Oh! Yes. Right.” And to Aubrey’s surprise, Calix leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Aubrey watched Calix leave, his heart twisted into a two-headed beast of admiration and desire. Getting to know Calix would not be boring in the least.

Aubrey made his way upstairs, following the sinuous curve of the mahogany staircase carpeted by thick oxblood red, and found the small guest room in the south hallway. The door was cracked and from inside came the drip drip drip of water inside a porcelain or ceramic bowl. Aubrey inhaled deeply to clear his head, then knocked.

“Aubrey?”

Aubrey poked his head inside, squinting against the room’s dimness. The only light came from two gas sconces on the wall which were turned down low. Ethaniel sat in a cushioned chair beside the bed, one hand holding a wet cloth as pink water dripped from its end. “I didn’t want to leave him lying here in his own dried blood,” Ethaniel said, fully rinsing out the cloth, folding it, and setting it aside. “But I’m afraid outside a proper dunk in the tub, some of it won’t come off.”

“I’ll focus on the wounds first. Everything else can wait.” Aubrey noted with approval that Ethaniel had managed to peel off Lawton’s shredded clothes and pull a blanket over him. “Did you see any wounds worse than the burn?”

“No. His legs are largely untouched.” Ethaniel’s throat clicked as he swallowed hard, his expression going flat. “But the burn is quite bad. They branded him, Aubrey. No one deserves that.”

Unlike Ethaniel, Aubrey could think of a few people who deserved severe punishment, but he agreed that burning someone like cattle was the act of a sadist. Or someone very, very angry. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come up here,” Aubrey said, trying to find the right words to express how badly he felt. He crouched by Ethaniel’s chair after setting his supplies to the side, and took Ethaniel’s right hand. They stared at Lawton — covers pulled up to his belly, skin ashen against dark green sheets, his hair like fire atop his head. Rapid movement behind his eyelids and the occasional shift of his jaw made Aubrey wonder if the man was dreaming, or if his mind was taking pity on his body and keeping him unconscious because of the pain.

He finally looked at the burn properly and winced. It was brutally done, ragged and raw, the skin bubbling and purple in some spots, sunburn pink in others. As Lawton breathed, Aubrey swore he could see the tiniest bit of dark red muscle and bone just below the skin.

“Calix is in the kitchen with tea. He’s expecting you,” Aubrey said as he nudged Ethaniel from the chair. “Let me take care of him. We still have the salves I purchased in town, and plenty of clean bandages. I’ll do what I can to keep him unconscious while his body heals.”

“All right.” Ethaniel made it to the door before turning back. “Aubrey?”

“Hmmm?”

Ethaniel’s expression flickered with something unreadable, then he shook his head. “Just be careful. I’ll go find Calix, but we’ll be just downstairs. In case.”

As soon as Ethaniel shut the door, Aubrey went to work. He knew the recipes well, able to pull them from his memory with ease, but the motions of grinding herbs, adding oil, then creating the packing paste for Lawton’s burn felt…strange. It was almost as if it were another Aubrey doing all of it; an Aubrey from the past, whose path would have been very different had his magic manifested like everyone else in his family.

The part of him firmly rooted in the here and now wanted this done quickly. Lawton didn’t move the entire time, and Aubrey was careful with his touch so as not to disturb him more than need be. But the burn he saved for last, his gaze flicking to it every now and again. It was a truly awful wound, and one that would leave a scar that would pull every time Lawton moved his arm. It would take months to heal properly, and the risk of infection was fairly high.

Dammit. Lawton needed a healer, a proper one.

But Aubrey could try. Even without myrrh or mistletoe, he could try to heal Lawton’s wounds. The worst that would happen would be nothing at all. Something inside Aubrey squirmed at the thought, though. He should retrieve Calix and ask permission. Or ask Ethaniel to come back and bear witness. Something. Anything. So he wasn’t alone.

But maybe alone was better, so no one could watch him fail.

Aubrey clenched his fist against the softness of the blankets Lawton had been swaddled in and closed his eyes. Failure was natural. He needed to remember that. Striving so hard for perfection until it had made him ill had probably shortened his life by a few years, and had made him dour for too long. He was not his family. He was not his father. And he was something unique, something different, in a bloodline so tied to earth and root and flesh and bone; but he could see the past of the earth, the fibers of the root, the disease in the flesh and the break in the bone. And so much more. Every object had a past and if Aubrey focused, he could hear their stories and let them ring their truth in his ears, his body, his heart.

Aubrey opened his eyes and looked down at Lawton; so still, so fragile, so wounded. Perhaps it was a simple burn that had charred his flesh, but if Aubrey had been head of the Golden Order, he would have burned the man with magic. After all, they’d metaphysically salted the wound so it would never fully heal. Why wouldn’t one ensure extra pain on top of that?

He let his eyes close once more and put his fingers into the thick gray paste he’d slathered on the burn.

Let me try. At least let me try. The man’s so still, he might as well be an object. Let me find the burn, find the magic below, and erase it.

Something in Aubrey’s mind pulsed, power that tasted of cold metal…leather…parchment. The taste grew thick on his tongue and his stomach convulsed, but Aubrey held on. He imagined he was back at the Collectio, surrounded by the strange and mysterious, and on that massive obsidian block lay an odd artifact. After all, that’s all the burn was…an odd artifact to unravel, catalog, and repair.

Aubrey felt his power push forward, seeking the root of that burn, and he imagined it sending tendrils through Lawton’s body, seeking the smaller wounds, too. Closing, restoring, mending. The taste on his tongue turned to rosemary and he sighed into it.

And in the dark, his power found a bizarre little flicker of brackish purple light buried deep under the torn skin and charred flesh. Aubrey reached out for it, snapping it up with a spectral hand, and turned it over. It was perfectly round and smooth, growing solid in his palm.

You don’t belong here, he thought. His power pulsed again and with it brought a sharp pain. He needed to work quickly. He was already butting up against the reaches of his own ability, and this was no torn book or broken clock to mend. Aubrey wrapped his hand around the sphere and squeezed. What was once solid became malleable, making the sick feeling in his gorge rise even higher. The energy from it squished between his fingers; fighting him, pushing back. It was fighting to stay buried under Lawton’s flesh.

Aubrey brought his other hand up and pressed against the magic with his own. As the magic jerked and writhed between his palms, Aubrey grit his teeth, snarling in response. You don’t belong here. Leave.

NOW.

The mass between his fingers squealed, nipping at his skin with blunt teeth. It was trying to find another host, a way in to save its own life. Aubrey laughed, knowing the sound was cruel, but how could he not laugh at the demise of such foul magic? It had been implanted under Lawton’s skin like a disease, or a worm. It had turned Lawton into a time bomb, because buried underneath all of it had been the taste of fire and ash.

The Golden Order seemed to like their fire. Maybe in the future, he’d have the opportunity to return the favor. It was a horrid thought, but some part of Aubrey crowed in relief as the mass between his hands let out an ear-piercing shriek, then popped.

Aubrey opened his eyes and looked down to find his fingers covered in medicinal paste, but below it, Lawton’s skin glowed a soft gold. Not healed, but better, and no longer booby-trapped. The man would likely make a full, but slow, recovery.

The door cracked open and Ethaniel stuck his head inside. “Aubrey? What happened? We heard a strange noise—”

Aubrey got to his feet, not caring he smeared paste down Ethaniel’s shirt or across his neck as he hauled him into a kiss. Ethaniel instantly kissed him back, gripping Aubrey hard by the waist. After everything, Ethaniel was here, with him, and as lovely as ever. This kiss didn’t make him dizzy or take Aubrey’s breath away; it grounded him.

“He’ll heal,” Aubrey said after they broke apart. “The Golden Order essentially booby-trapped the man, but I found it and destroyed it.”

Ethaniel stared at him for a long moment, his grip still tight on Aubrey’s shirt. “Wha— Aubrey, that’s incredible.”

“It’s not perfect,” Aubrey said, unable to ignore the fierce surge of pride in his chest, “but he’s better than before. I think we can manage his care from here, without doctors poking about.”

With a heavy sigh, Ethaniel leaned in to rest his forehead on Aubrey’s shoulder. “You constantly amaze me. Do you know that?”

Aubrey snorted, still lightheaded from the rush of power but glad to have Ethaniel to cling to. “I have lost time to make up for,” he said, lifting Ethaniel’s face with his still-sticky hands. “Don’t sing my praises just yet.”

When he and Ethaniel followed the sounds of Calix and Richard to the front parlor, they found the two men sitting across from each other, full wine glasses in hand, fireplace roaring.

Richard smiled as they walked in, his brow only dipping in brief confusion at the drying gray paste on Ethaniel’s shirt and Aubrey’s trousers. “I managed to get him to sit,” Richard said with a note of pride, which immediately made Calix pout. “How is…how are things upstairs?”

“Better. Only just, but it’s an improvement.” Aubrey sat to Calix’s right with a wince, still feeling rather jostled from their frantic carriage journey. But from here, he could put a reassuring hand on Calix’s knee. “He’ll live.”

Calix looked down at his hands and nodded, but didn’t speak. The silence carried them into more wine and fireplace contemplation, interrupted only when Aubrey asked, “Did Calix get you caught up, Richard? I know we disrupted everything.”

Richard waved him off. “I’ve known Calix for many years, and while more…exciting than normal, it’s nothing I can’t handle. And yes, he did.”

At that, Calix raised his head. “Mostly. We didn’t get bogged down in the details, but he understands the risk.”

“And since I’m a stubborn ass, I also refuse to leave ‘for my own safety’, as it were.” Richard sipped his wine, then said, “Besides, if there’s trouble to be had, I won’t leave Calix alone. And I won’t entertain questions on that.” He tipped an imaginary hat toward Aubrey. “But I do apologize, again, for trying to tackle you at Calix’s apartment. I didn’t know what was going on.”

“Not a worry,” Aubrey replied. “I’d have done the same in your place.”

Aubrey turned to Ethaniel to ask him if he wanted more wine. But Ethaniel was staring at the floor, nearly bent over in his chair, one arm wrapped around his middle. It was only then Aubrey heard the man’s shaky breaths. “Ethaniel? Are you all right?”

Ethaniel seemed to almost jump forward, with how quickly he moved, dropping to his knees beside Aubrey’s chair and looking up at with such raw trust, it made Aubrey stop breathing for a moment. “This is all my fault,” Ethaniel choked out. He gripped at Aubrey hard now, his fingers digging into Aubrey’s thigh. “When I stopped at home, Uncle Jeremiah was moving around like he was healthy again, and my…Vincent showed up.”

Dread dripped into Aubrey’s stomach. “Your half-brother?”

“The very one,” Ethaniel growled. “He must have given Uncle Jeremiah something to make him feel better. He made all these threats and then he told me…Aubrey, Vincent’s the head of the Golden Order. And he wants the book back, above anything else.”

Through the static of truth that made Aubrey’s head buzz, there was the satisfaction of feeling a final puzzle piece click into place. It all made a strange kind of sense, to be honest, and immediately Aubrey started to plan. None of it was Ethaniel’s fault. The connection to family ran deep and so often it was a knife that could cut both ways. Aubrey certainly knew that. He had so many words for Ethaniel, but the man looked so broken and betrayed that Aubrey did the only thing he could. He slid from the chair to drop to his knees before Ethaniel, putting them on the same level, and gathered him close. Ethaniel’s inhale shook, and then he buried his face in Aubrey’s shoulder and cried.

Ethaniel was not a small man, and his weight combined with Aubrey’s exhaustion finally collapsed them both. Aubrey managed to wedge them against the couch on which Calix sat while Ethaniel all but crawled into his lap, silently asking to be held while his sobs ebbed and flowed.

“We’ll figure this out.” Calix was on the floor at their side now, running his hand soothingly up and down Ethaniel’s arm. Aubrey was eternally grateful for Calix’s lack of judgment. None of them could judge the other, not now. Not with everything that had happened. “We will. We’re safer here than anywhere else, and that gives us time. Please don’t blame yourself, Ethaniel.”

Aubrey gave Calix a grateful look, hoping it spoke the depths of his appreciation. When Calix didn’t move and didn’t speak, Aubrey said, “We’ll need time. And each other.” He freed his left hand so he could pass the backs of his fingers over Calix’s cheek. Their own secret language, built one touch at a time. This younger man had careened into Ethaniel’s life, and then his, but had shown nothing but care and compassion, and was clearly all right with tangling his life, and his romantic notions, with them both.

Ethaniel’s tears slowed and his grip on Aubrey eased, so it only made sense to shift around so they could all sit comfortably on the floor in front of the fire. Aubrey realized that Richard had quietly left the room; for the first time since the fire, they were alone and in a place where no demands were made, no fear consumed their bodies, and, if Aubrey had any say in it, no worry would consume their minds.

A moment’s peace.

An idea rose in him, both soft and fierce, built on a foundation of trust and longing. Aubrey pushed Ethaniel’s hair out of his face and turned to the other man. “Calix?”

Calix had leaned his head on Aubrey’s shoulder and now looked up, eyelashes fluttering. “Yes?”

“You have a room here, right?” Aubrey arched an eyebrow. “With a sizeable bed and a tub?”

Calix’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I do.”

“Good.” Aubrey got to his feet and helped Ethaniel to his. When all of them were standing, he dragged Calix in for a kiss, making sure to hold Ethaniel close so he could hear their lips moving together. It didn’t take long for Ethaniel to press against him, his hands wandering Aubrey’s chest. Aubrey took that as a sign to say, “Show us where you sleep, Calix.”