Page 84 of Close Quarter
In his ear, Silas's heart beat a steady but quick rhythm, but his breaths came in shallow gulps. Memories--not his own--stirred in Rhys.
"It's stuck its hand inside you before."
Silas stilled his hand. "Yes."
"Did it--did they--" Rhys didn't know if he wanted to ask this question. But now that he'd thought of it, he couldn't stop. "Were you raped?"
Silas's breathing slowed. "I suppose it depends on what you mean." He took another handful of breaths before continuing. "The soulless have no sexual capacity or ability. They can stir our desires, make us want them, but they themselves?" Rhys felt Silas shrug. "On the other hand, everything Anaxandros ever did to me was about taking power and will from me. About degradation."
Silas's voice was so calm, but underneath Rhys heard an unbridled wail of fear and pain. He sucked air in through his teeth.
Silas resumed stroking his hair. "There's nothing you can do to change my past."
"I know." The streams of poison in Silas were nearly dry. Another question nudged at Rhys.
"What about Vasil?"
"He should feel better in a few days, as I said."
"That's not what I mean." Rhys lifted his head and sat back. He kept the trickle of energy seeping into Silas, though. "It bit him."
Silas's confused look gave way to one of clarity. "You can't become soulless from a bite."
"But the legends..." Then again, if someone could, Silas would probably be a vampire, given the flashes of memory Rhys glimpsed. Heck, he would be one too.
"You can't lose your soul or have it taken from you. To become soulless is a choice."
"No accidental angsty vampires?"
"No. They--every last one of them--chose to be what they are." Silas sat up.
The sickly color had fled, leaving a somewhat paler but much healthier-looking Silas behind. The muscles in Rhys's back unknotted, and he broke off the stream of energy. Exhaustion slammed into him. He leaned against the bench. "Is it morning yet?"
Silas caressed the back of his neck. "Look."
He pointed up.
Rhys tilted his head back. Through the glass of the roof, streaks of blue and golden clouds painted a pale sky with luminescent color.
Dawn.
"Your place or mine?" Rhys said.
"Mine." Silas reached under the bench and pulled his sword out. "The bed is bigger."
"I'm not really up for anything other than sleeping." Rhys climbed to his feet, using the bench for support.
"Likewise." Silas rose, then caught himself on the back of the bench. "Mercury's balls."
The poison in Silas's blood was gone, as was most of the damage to his liver. Rhys steadied him.
"I don't understand."
Silas twisted his mouth into a bitter expression. "Lost too much blood. Not a damn thing I can do about that."
Silas had told Vasil the same. Rhys wrapped one arm around Silas's waist. "Together, then?"
"For as long as you wish."
