Page 38 of Close Quarter
"Don't get the room rekeyed, either," Rhys said. "I'll find another way in if you do. Or I'll find you, wherever you go."
"It's a big boat." Insolence in Silas's voice.
"And you're the only fae on it." He tapped his head. "This is a two-way street." Rhys shoved the key card into his back pocket and walked through the short foyer and out the door.
Once in the hallway, Rhys took a deep breath.
He hated to leave, especially like that, but he doubted Silas could be reasoned with right now.
Anyway, he had his own head to sort through.
Quarter-fae? A bond? Vampires and a sword- wielding Silas? This certainly was no fairy tale.
Rhys ran his hands through his hair.Shit.
As fucked up as his life had become in a day, it all made a bizarre kind of sense. That alone should have had him running for the hills--so to speak. But it didn't.
He had found Silas.
Rhys glanced at the cabin number. His room was two decks below.
Well, that was a good place to start. A shower would clear his head. After that? Well, he knew the vampires had talked to one other person last night.
But would Vasil talk to him?
Chapter Seven
Even after Rhys left, Silas clung to the back of the chair and stared at his coffee mug. Studying the dregs helped him ignore the tremble in his arms and the wild beating of his heart. Or so he told himself.
Gods, hewasa horrible liar.
Rhys.Brash, young, and ignorant. He should change key cards, just to spite the man. See how exactly he would follow through on his threat.
Now that was something new. He'd never had a lover threaten to chase him down before.Lover.
Anger slipped away from Silas's grasp, leaving a sudden longing in its wake. That could not be. He had to let Rhys go.
He enjoyed the man, their verbal sparring, the teasing. The wrestle for control. But how much, truly, did his desire for Rhys come from the delight --and need--of the element he possessed? Would he put up with Rhys's flippant remarks--hisorders--if he were simply human?
Probably not. He shouldn't put up with them now, Quarter or no. He only did because he wanted Rhys, needed the feel of that mouth and the taste of that skin and every drop of forest life the man held. All his for the taking.
Silas pushed off the chair. He was exactly the monster Rhys said he wasn't. He limped to the closet and found one of the complimentary robes.
He stripped off his bloody clothes before wrapping the robe around himself and then hobbled to the bed. He sank down onto the soft surface.
Silas's bones cried out in relief. The floor had been hard and his dreams haunted by the past.
Sleep would do him some good. He stretched out and buried his head in a pillow.
The cover smelled of Rhys. The sheets too.
Silas groaned and inhaled deeply in spite of himself.
Curse the Fates, cruel mistresses that they were. He loosened his hold on the pillow. Only the Fates were not the reason Silas was here. The Messengers had sent him.
He jerked upright.
The Messengers knew the past, the now, the future. They knew Rhys would be here, knew what he was. Silas pounded his fist against the mattress.
