Page 101 of No Man's Land

Josef didn’t bother arguing with that obvious untruth, just went to the fireplace where he saw that a fire had already been laid. All he needed to do was set a match to the kindling, which he did, crouching down and watching the flames dance along the dry wood. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“What?”

He turned and looked at Alex slumped in his chair, lame leg stretched out before him. “Breakfast. The first meal of the day? Customarily eggs and bacon, toast, tea.”

Alex didn’t dignify that quip with a response.

“Well,Ihaven’t eaten,” Josef went on, “so I’m going to see what you have in your kitchen and—”

“What the devil are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing,” Josef snapped, standing up. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t want your help!”

Josef snorted. “Right, you’re just fine sitting here in the cold and dark.”

“For God’s sake!” Alex snarled. “Won’t you justgo?”

His words rang in the silent room, challenge and accusation.

Heart thumping thickly, Josef made himself say, “I will, if that’s really what you want.”

Alex stared at him, eyes dark with anguish. “God help me,” he rasped, “it should be...”

Blowing out a slow breath, Josef lowered himself into the other armchair. Close enough that their knees were almost brushing. “Tell me. Are you recovered from the infection?”

Alex spread his hands, clenching his jaw. “As you see.”

Which, Josef noted with a journalist’s ear, was not a yes.

In the doorway, Alex had looked dishevelled. Now, in the lamplight, Josef could see that he was still unwell. Grey shadowshollowed his cheeks, skin like milk save high points of pink on his cheekbones. Feverish, perhaps. Or agitated. “Christ,” Josef said vehemently, “won’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

Alex looked away, towards the curtained windows. “What do you want to know?”

“The truth, what else?”

“I thought you’d be sick of the truth by now.”

Josef laughed, but he wasn’t remotely amused. “And I thought you’d be sick of hiding it, but here we are.”

“I’m not hiding—” Alex glared at him. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?”

“From what?You?”

In the silence that followed, Josef locked his gaze on Alex’s dark and angry eyes. Neither looked away. Roughly, his breath catching, Josef said, “Are you still…?” He tried to swallow the dryness in his throat. “Still infected? Tell me.”

Alex held his eyes for a long time, then blinked once, slowly. “The infection has passed, but it left me … altered. My eyes…” His gaze slipped away. “I can see extremely well in the dark, and poorly in daylight. I have troubling thoughts, and when I sleep—which I do rarely—the nightmares are worse. I can sense…” He closed his eyes, throat working as he swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was a hoarse rasp. “I’m closer to the Otherworld; I can sense its presence at the borders of our own. I can feel it all the time.”

Josef had no idea what that meant, but he could see from Alex’s grim expression that it must be fearful. “What about The Society?” he said. “Can they help you?”

His expression grew wry. “Saint thinks it makes me useful.”

“’Course he fucking does. And what do you think?”

Alex’s eyes lifted to Josef’s. “I think it makes me dangerous.”

“Ah,” Josef said softly, finally understanding. “Which is why you’ve decided to live like a hermit, I suppose?”

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