Page 28 of The Magpie Lord
Stephen sat up awkwardly and took a very deep breath. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands.
There was a long, unpleasant silence.
“I didn’t think of that.” Crane didn’t look round when he finally spoke. “I don’t think of myself as part of my family, you see. I didn’t think you did. I thought you didn’t. Of course you do.”
“I don’t,” Stephen said. “If I did, we wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place. It was just—then...”
You looked like Hector.Looking at Crane’s rigid back, he couldn’t have said the words at gunpoint.
“I panicked,” he went on. “That’s all I can say. I panicked last night, and I abused my powers and your mind to get myself out of an awkward situation. You’ve every right to be angry.”
“Angry, yes.” Crane still didn’t look round. “Not to behave like my brother.”
“Oh, please,” Stephen said wearily. “We both know that’s not true.”
Crane turned at last, face tight. “Horse shit. I’m twice your size.”
“Yes, and I’m a practitioner, and you have no concept of what I can do,” Stephen snapped. “Don’t dare assume I can’t defend myself.”
“So why didn’t you?” Crane retorted instantly.
“Because I didn’t want to. As you so astutely observed. I think you’ve probably humiliated me enough for now, don’t you?”
He rested his head on his hand, legs dangling over the side of the desk, trying to make his body stop clamouring for sex or violence or both. He could feel Crane watching him, and the anger draining out of the room.
“All right,” Crane said finally. “You abused my mind. I had every intention of abusing you right back. The only possible conclusion is that we’re a pair of bastards.”
“The difference is, I didn’t give you a choice.”
“Nor did I you,” Crane pointed out.
“You let go.”
“Not until you asked.”
“And I didn’t ask you before.” Stephen could tell exactly what was passing through Crane’s mind, from no greater power than familiarity. “Lord Crane, I have many weaknesses, and none of them are related to my size or physical strength. Please try to grasp that.”
“If you say so,” Crane muttered. “Nevertheless. Did I hurt you?”
“Only my pride. And my back. And my entire morning’s work.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.” Stephen sighed. “Lord Crane—”
“Crane, for God’s sake. I can’t stand the title, it sounds like my father’s in the room.”
“Crane,” said Stephen, tasting the unadorned name. “I apologise for last night. It was cowardly, and unfair, and I’m ashamed of myself. And I give you my word I won’t do that again, fluence you. It’s really not how I generally behave.”
“I could say much the same in return,” Crane said. “You hit a sore point. I suppose this whole business is a lot of sore points strung together for you.”
“It isn’t terribly easy,” Stephen agreed.
Their eyes met for a moment. Crane gave him a crooked smile. “What do you want to do about this?”
“My job. That’s all. Without complicating things.”
“You don’t feel things are getting complicated all by themselves?”
