Page 11 of Brought to Light
“My friends call me Linden.”
“But someone else calls you something else. Something you don’t want me to know?”
“There’s a—fuck, you’re going to think this sounds so stupid. It’s really not relevant.”
I didn’t look like a dentist either, so why did I feel like I was pulling teeth? And I was going to need one, too, at the rate I was gritting my own.
Fuck it. “My name’s Callum.”
“Callum,” he said meditatively, in a tone like he was rolling it around in his mouth and tasting it. The pit of my stomach clenched a little. This wasn’t the time or the place, and Linden wasn’t the person, damn it. I didn’t even get laid that much, and when I did it was mostly women I picked up in bars where no one cared who came and went. I’d gotten used to going without during deployments, and later when I was working and keeping to myself. Why the fuck had my libido chosen this particular fucking moment to sit up and take notice?
“Yeah. Callum. Plain fucking name for a plain fucking guy. Now can we—” Ah, fuck, he’d asked two questions. What did I really have to gain by hiding the truth now? We might die of starvation here, and if we did get out, who knew what might happen? “And I was thinking about killing you. I was hired to kill you. I’m not going to kill you right now. Satisfied?”
“You answered my questions, so I suppose I have to be,” he said in a soft, sad little voice. Now it was my chest clenching uncomfortably. I kept my mouth closed, forcing the apology trying to pop out to stay the fuck where it belonged. “And now you want me to answer yours. I wish I could. This place is a sort of space between worlds. I didn’t mean for us to end up here. It was an accident.”
The anger I’d been pushing aside rose up all of a sudden. “It wasn’t an accident to take off while I was knocked out and leave me alone where we landed, though, was it? Was it even an accident that I got knocked out in the first place?”
We kept walking, the featureless floor passing under our feet stone by stone. Drip. Drip. Cold. Darkness. He didn’t answer for a while.
Finally he said, “You’re unaccustomed to that kind of travel, and it hit you harder than it did me. I ran because I was afraid of what you might do to me when you woke. You would have been angry. Youareangry.”
“I still saved your fucking life.” I walked a little faster. I was getting hungry now in addition to thirsty, and the confirmation that Linden had brought us here by accident and had no fucking clue what he was doing, and hadn’t just been holding out on me, wasn’t helping.
“Yes, you did.” He sighed, and then I felt a brush over my forearm. I stopped dead and looked down. He had his hand resting on me, the pressure so light it was almost nonexistent. Linden tilted his head, gazing at me with an expression I couldn’t read in those big eyes. “Truce, maybe? Could we do that? I’ll tell you what I can, and I won’t abandon you even if the opportunity presents itself. As long as you promise you’re not going to kill me. Now or later.”
I looked down at him, having trouble focusing on anything but the touch of his hand. When I’d gotten this job, I’d thought the first time I touched him would be the last. I’d only need to touch him once to end him, after all, and maybe I wouldn’t even have touched him at all until he was already dead. Now that felt impossible. His fingers were pale and slim. Fragile. I could crush them, crush him. I could lie and kill him later either way.
Jesse could already be dead, and I’d never know. Killing Linden wouldn’t bring him back. And I knew damn well what Jesse would say. If he could see Linden, he’d tell me to make that promise and let the chips fall where they may. Jesse had originally come down on the side of finishing the job, but…he wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want me to have murdering a complete innocent on my soul.
Not that I’d ever given much thought to my soul; gun to my head, I’d have guessed I didn’t have one. Jesse would think I did. Jesse always tried to see the best in the people he loved, even when we didn’t deserve it.
Linden’s eyes drew me in. His lips were so close.
“Yeah,” I said at last. “I promise.” And the relief that hit me the second I did nearly knocked me over. I hadn’t wanted to kill him even before I met him. And the second I had—well, what had happened in my head the second I met him was something I didn’t have the time or the inclination to get into.
But fuck, I really, really didn’t want to kill him.
Linden looked into my eyes, and I couldn’t tear my own gaze away. His tongue flickered out over those soft lips. He smelled like fresh green leaves in the beginning of spring, like that scent that hit you when you walked out the door after the snow melted and took a deep breath. It drowned out the stale reek of the tunnels completely for a second.
“I believe you,” Linden said. “At least, I’m going to try very hard to believe you.”
You can trust me. The words didn’t quite make it past my lips. Yeah, I’d kill to protect him, but then again, I’d kill for a lot of reasons. That wasn’t something I could really claim credit for. Technically I could’ve demanded his gratitude and trust in return for coming to his rescue when the kaadus nearly killed him and absorbed his bones, but did I really deserve thanks for doing something that came as naturally to me as breathing? From my perspective, I’d given him a dollar to get a cup of coffee, or held a door open for him. It wasn’t a favor that deserved more than a polite nod.
Would Idieto protect him, that was the real question.
And no. No, I wouldn’t. I’d die to protect Jesse. And even that got a little fuzzy, depending on circumstances. Linden—no.
And that was the only kind of trust that mattered.
“I’m not going to kill you, no matter what,” I said finally. “And if I can prevent you from being hurt or killed without dying myself, I will. We’re allies while we’re stuck here. No question on that. Okay?”
To my surprise, he smiled, his eyes sparkling a little even though there wasn’t much light to make them glitter.
Magic. The fucker had magic, just like he’d told me. I felt crazy even thinking it, but it was so much more reasonable than any other explanation. Occam’s crazy, fucked-up, hallucinatory razor.
“I accept your word,” he said, his tone oddly formal, especially in contrast to his mischievous grin. “You phrase yourself with precision and you’re ruthless. I think you’d fit in well where I come from.”
He took his hand away from my arm at last, and I had to stop myself from grabbing it and putting it back. I only wished I wasn’t wearing the damn jacket, so that I could’ve felt his skin on mine. I’d put my hand around his bare wrist when I dragged him out of town, but that had been my hand on him. Not his on me. It felt like a bigger difference than it was.
