Envious Of Fire (Kissing With Teeth #2)

39. All of the Nights, Forever.

The bus is parked askew across four spaces in the lot of the clinic, looking like a set piece in a post-apocalyptic film, missing half its roof, windows busted, sandblasted on all sides.

Filling the waiting room are the anxious, sand-covered, dirty, blood-crusted faces of humans. They took turns cleaning up in the cramped clinic bathrooms, but no one feels clean. The elderly man sits by a potted plant, the teenagers huddled next to him as he quietly recites prayers. The freckly guy lies across four seats, eyes glued blankly to the ceiling. 4 sits in silence on the floor in the corner of the room, her sunken eyes staring ahead at nothing at all, knees hugged to her chest, boyfriend’s blood still covering the side of her face and hair. Someone had brought her something from the vending machine that she still hasn’t touched, sitting on the floor by her feet. One of the two older women who tried to console her sits collapsed in a chair nearby, leaning forward with her arms hanging off her knees, the other woman slowly pacing the room, then stopping randomly to glance at a window, as if seeing something, eyes glassy, mind traumatized by the night.

In a room around the corner from that lobby, Kaleb lies in a bed, monitors softly beeping with his signs of life. Kyle stands by his side, silent, holding his hand. This also happens to be the same room that housed Brock when he broke his hand not so long ago against Kyle’s face. Perhaps that’s why Kyle’s mind keeps drifting back to the bus, to that familiar face he saw through La-La’s long white hair, that bloodied face that so looked like Brock’s.

Kyle also thinks of a sadistic necromancer with a connection to Tristan.

And Raya saying Kyle has only heard the start of the horrors that Tristan has done.

All of the pieces fit, yet for some reason, he can’t bear to put them together. That all of it is connected.

What has Kyle’s life become?

In a room further down the hallway of the clinic, a different situation unfolds. “Leave me impaled, if you must,” groans Raya, “just save the life of the human, please—”

“He needs a hospital,” repeats the town doctor, stressed. “We need to transport him to Flagstaff. We don’t have the means—”

“We can’t leave here,” says Doctor Mei. “He will not survive, for one. Second, there are vampires outside this town looking for a way in as we speak. Third—”

“What are your credentials exactly? I do not know you.”

“While we continue to argue,” Mei replies curtly, “this man’s chances of survival plummet.”

“And the second I remove that sword from his abdomen, he bleeds out in my clinic.” His voice hardens. “He needs a hospital, like I said. This young man’s blood will not be on my hands.”

“His blood is on all of our hands.”

Kyle hears all of this from Kaleb’s bedside, his ears pricked to the drama down the hall as he waits for his brother to wake. He can’t bear Kaleb losing a friend while asleep, that he won’t know until it’s too late that his friend took a fatal wound to protect him.

And if things get worse with Nico, Kaleb will have never had a chance to say goodbye.

“Babe.”

Kyle shakes his head, not turning to Elias at the door. He can already feel the bubbling sea of anxiety inside his boyfriend with barely a flick of his Reach. “I can’t. I can’t deal with another thing. Can’t make another decision. Not until my brother wakes up.”

Despite Kyle’s state of mind, it’s a comfort when Elias draws up behind him, wraps him in his arms, and holds him tightly. “I know,” he murmurs against the back of Kyle’s neck, puts a gentle kiss there, continues to hold him.

Kyle closes his eyes. “Is … Is Kaleb’s friend gonna die? … Is Nico … Is Nico gonna fucking die?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’re saying he will die if they take the sword out. Raya will be fine, we heal, we aren’t as fragile as humans. But he needs a hospital, a real fucking hospital with better facilities.”

Elias’s emotional state tightens right up, hardening like mud into stone. “I know … but …”

Kyle turns, facing him. “We don’t have that option, do we? Is it true, what Cade and Layna are saying? About their spell?”

Elias blinks, astonished. “How’d you hear them at all? You’ve been in this room the whole time.”

“I hear everything. My senses are through the roof. I swear I can hear a snake slithering somewhere in the parking lot and ants chewing through the drywall. Is what they’re saying true?”

Elias sighs, dropping his arms. “Y-Yes,” he finally lets out. “It seems to be the state of things right now. The barrier is … really more of a wall. It keeps anyone from getting into Nowhere …”

“And also keeps us from getting out ,” Kyle finishes, getting to the point. The look in Elias’s eyes confirms it. Kyle turns away, eyes wide. “We’re … We’re trapped here now.”

“Trapped and safe ,” says Elias.

“And dying.” Kyle clutches his brother’s hand tighter. “What if his wounds become infected? What if he gets worse? What if he needs a hospital, and we can’t—”

“They gave him lots of antibiotics,” Elias reminds him. “He just needs time and rest. He’ll recover. He’s proven himself strong for this long, hasn’t he?”

“And that poor girl’s boyfriend.” Kyle’s eyes drift to the wall, as if he can magically see through it to the lobby, to where all the surviving humans are gathered. “He didn’t even want to come. He didn’t want to come and … and now he’s dead.”

“Babe …”

Suddenly it’s too much. Kyle turns, buries his face in Elias’s chest, and lets out a holler of frustration that gets swallowed up the moment it’s freed. But no amount of hiding within his man’s warm body can stop his ears from picking up every word down the hall. The doctors arguing. Nico’s moaning. Raya’s uncomfortable grunts and occasional interjections. All the survivors in the lobby who keep whispering and praying to one another. The disquiet in the entire town as the citizens wonder where the eerie haze in the night sky came from, a haze that even partly obscures the stars and the moon, as if their town now floats in the middle of a sea of flying sand and nothing, as if Nowhere has become a sick joke of its own name, a place that can never again be found by any natural means—a place that is, literally, truly nowhere.

Through the wall of dread and doom, Kyle becomes aware of a suddenly out-of-place energy. A confidence which seems to play and twist in shape as it approaches.

Kyle looks up at the door before Elias does. Softly shuffling footsteps bring the shape of Drake into view.

Drake’s splotchy pink and messy hair is darkened by water, dripping down his face. In his denim jacket, now stained here and there with dirt, he leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Sorry for eavesdropping. Kinda heard everything.”

Kyle remembers at once what he’d left behind when George took him away from here. “Lazarus. Is he—?”

“He’s alright. Doubt even twenty silver bullets could take him down.” Drake picks something off his jacket, flicks it away. “I have a feeling I … may not be seeing him again for some time.”

Kyle hears the weight in Drake’s words. Feels his doubts and his frustrations. Lazarus was truly, deeply wounded by that single silver bullet. He would not have survived a second one. Drake is emotionally shrugging it off, turning a cheek to his own pain, not wanting to think about standing up against his brother.

“Stop creeping around inside my heart,” says Drake.

Kyle’s Reach has a mind of its own sometimes. “I’m not.”

“Just teasing.” Drake smiles halfheartedly, then lets out a sigh. “Anyway, I can save the Nico guy.”

“Save him how?” comes Elias, standing by Kyle’s side.

“You pick up a trick or two, living with vampires.” Drake lifts his arms to stretch, lets out a yawn, claps his hands. “So should I do it? Go save the guy? Be the hero? I’m bored.”

Kyle senses something slippery in Drake’s heart. “You know how to draw blood from passed out college kids. Doesn’t exactly make you a surgeon. What are you suggesting to do?”

Drake settles back into place against the doorframe. His eyes grow soft as he gazes at Kyle. “I think you already know.”

Kyle stares back. “Y-You mean …” He’s so mentally drained after the night they’ve had, it’s difficult to believe what Drake is suggesting. “Wait. You know how to do it?”

“Seen it,” says Drake, then adds, “once or twice. Never done it myself. From what they’re saying, Nico won’t survive the night. I can give him many more nights to live. As in … all of them.”

All of them.

All of the nights, forever. From this moment until eternity.

Elias realizes with a start what they’re talking about. “You’re not gonna … gonna turn him, are you?”

“Do we want him to live or not?” asks Drake almost sweetly.

“I don’t … I don’t think that’s …” Elias looks back and forth between Kyle and Drake in shock. “That’s not our choice to make. Nico deserves a say in the matter. He should get to decide if—”

“Too late,” says Drake, then winces.

Kyle turns his ears toward the wall, listens. The doctors and nurses are heatedly arguing, trading orders, stressed, hearts heavy. The machines are going crazy, beeping. “What’s going on?” cries Raya. “Why isn’t he talking? Excuse me? Hello?” A specific kind of emotional heat has consumed the room and everyone inside it, working with fleeting hope to save a life.

Everyone save for Nico, from which Kyle hears only silence.

“Well?” asks Drake. “Shall I go and play God?”

The machines keep beeping, both Kaleb’s and Nico’s.

Raya keeps asking for someone to tell her what’s happening.

Kyle can almost feel the sword through his own body, with a second’s attachment of his Reach. He presses a hand to his belly as if to suppress the ache.

Then: “Y-Yes,” he breathes before he’s completely certain.

Elias looks at him. “Kyle …”

Drake nods. “I don’t take this responsibility lightly,” he says, “but I will say, before I depart this room, I find it incredibly sexy that you’re letting me do this. Let’s hope I don’t fuck up, alright? Pray for me.” With that, Drake slips from the doorway.

For half a second, Kyle considers telling him to stop, that he’s changed his mind. But something keeps him silent and glued to Kaleb’s bedside, frozen in place.

“Kyle …” Elias comes closer. “Are you … Are you sure …?”

“No,” he mutters back, “about anything, about any of this … no, I’m not.”

Elias studies Kyle’s face, then pulls him close, giving his man the comfort of burying himself in his chest again. Kyle closes his eyes tightly, but can’t seem to contain his Reach. The outrage of the doctors when Drake enters the room. Raya’s confusion. Even Drake’s hesitation as he approaches the table, dismisses the others from the room, takes over with shaky confidence. “Whatever your last sunrise was,” he then says to the unresponsive Nico, “however many years ago it was before you became a prisoner … I hope you cherished it. I regret to take the rest of them from you. But maybe someday in the future, you’ll come to appreciate how little a price it was … to still be alive and among loved ones.” Drake’s heart is full. Kyle even senses something close to love swelling inside it as he says, “You don’t know me, but soon, we’ll be brothers, and for the rest of your nights, you will never again be alone.”

“Just get on with it,” groans Raya, knowing exactly what’s to happen, twisting inside with her own knot of complicated feelings, disgust and sorrow, dark and guilty relief, dread.

Warm resolve surges within Drake. “Alright. Let’s unsheathe that sword already.”

The ringing sound of metal and flesh and bone—and the pain Raya feels as she cries out—cause Kyle to double over, his hands pressed to his ears, as Elias’s shirt grows wet with his sobs.

***

“It is imperative, now more than ever, that we be grateful for all He has given us, for the evil He has delivered us from …”

Kaleb hears the words, soft and distant, like a dream.

“… our lives, once in the hands of demons and devils, now in the gracious care of this town, another sign of His good grace …”

Kaleb feels a hand within his own, woven between his fingers, a warm palm, refreshingly warm.

“… stay good, no matter the sins committed against you. Stay gracious of Him, no matter the life that has been robbed of you. Stay kind, no matter the bitter losses we suffer …”

Kaleb opens his eyes. The blank ceiling of a hospital.

“… it is all part of His great design, His great plan …”

Did they not make it out of the blood donation room? Are he and Raya still in the House of Vegasyn? Have they failed?

“… you are made stronger from your suffering. The next trial you face may be far more formidable than the last. But you are stronger now, and He knows you will overcome even this …”

Kaleb glances toward the voice. Blood 288, if he remembers it right. A sweet old man, the one whose voice he’s been listening to, a former preacher, who gave encouraging sermons every morning in the commons. He stands near the door to the room with two teenage boys, the knitting ladies 83 and 513, and a morose Blood 304 who leans against the wall, arms crossed, lips hanging open.

“… you are made in His great light again,” the old man tells his listeners. “This … is your second life He has graced you with, a second chance … with countless promise and possibility …”

It’s Blood 304 who notices first. Her eyebrows lift. “1025?”

The old man stops. Everyone turns to face Kaleb, stirred out of their thoughts. No one says a thing, their breaths held, eyes on the shape of Kaleb in the bed.

“I … What’s …” Kaleb isn’t sure what to ask first. “Did we … get out? Is this a … a real hospital?”

Then he turns his face the other way.

His brother’s face hovers over him, eyes wide, lips parted with surprise.

Kyle’s face. Exactly as he remembers it from his dreams.

An ageless Kyle. Youthful Kyle. His sharp, unmistakable eyes.

Kaleb can barely form the name. “K-Kyle …?” He realizes it’s his fingers that are woven through his own. He lifts his hand —their hands—astounded. His thoughts come slow. His words, even slower. “How … How are you here? How are …?”

His brother brings his other hand to Kaleb’s forehead. “It’s all okay now. You’re safe. You’re out of there. You no longer belong to that place.”

Kaleb’s mouth is so dry. His throat, raw. With his brother’s hand on his forehead, he quickly becomes aware of all the papery bandages covering his face. They’re annoying suddenly. He tries to touch them, to peel them off.

“No, no,” says his brother, gently coaxing Kaleb’s hands off of his face. “They’re protecting you from infection. Your wounds are treated. You were given antibiotics.”

“Drowsy as fuck,” moans Kaleb.

A soft chuckle comes from Kyle. “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you cuss.”

“Stings. It all stings. Are you really you?” Kaleb turns back to his brother—then everything spins. “I feel … so tired.”

“Sleep … You can sleep. You’re safe now.” His brother keeps stroking his forehead and his hair. “I will be right here when you wake up. I love you.” His voice starts to shake. “I love you so … so fucking much, Kaleb.”

Kaleb tries to sneer, but any movement of his face hurts. It’s uncomfortable, to just see his brother with one eye, the bandages covering the other. “Why’re you crying?” he asks, words slurred.

Then he drifts away.

The next time he wakes, strips of daylight are cutting in from the blinds. He hears a soft conversation near the opened door, turns his face toward it, his one eye.

“Could be a day, could be a week, could be ten years, I have no idea,” says a woman, out of sight. “Magic is … unpredictable. Unfathomable. I’m not even convinced it is magic, whatever we’ve done. I probably inhaled too much of something I burned. Maybe those funny candles have a hallucinogen in the wax.”

“You have to stop doubting yourself. You’re incredible.”

“I’m just …” She sighs. “Juan, I don’t know what to believe in anymore. Vampires. Witchcraft. Are fairies real? Elves? I just wish everyone would … would just wait until I’ve had at least two hours of consecutive sleep before asking me all these questions. My body still thinks it’s Tuesday. And my poor overwhelmed daughter … she feels guilty, Juan, she feels like we’ve done something bad, like we’ve trapped us here forever …”

“We’ll get by, Cade, we’ll get by.” The man’s voice is rough in texture, but he’s calm, soothing. “The town’s plenty capable of being self-sufficient for a time. How much time, well … we’ll see about that.”

“Where do we house all of these new visitors we’ve got? Not like there’s a cozy Holiday Inn for them to stay at.”

“I’ve got the mayor working on something.”

“Oh, you mean the lazy bastard actually came out of his cave? I know,” she says with a slightly unhinged laugh, “sorry, sorry, I know, I’m just—”

“Don’t be. I know he’s … he can be a bit …” The man sighs. A moment passes. Kaleb hears the soft ruffling of clothes, perhaps an embrace. “We’ll get through this. All of this. We’ll survive.”

“Promise me.”

“We’ll survive, Cade, all of us. Even your rascal of a favorite bartender you won’t let me beat to a pulp for all the trouble he’s brought on this town.”

“Juan, you know better than I do, it’s because of him we’ll all be okay, and it’s because of his boyfriend I was even able to make that … well, that ‘magic wall’ we’ll call it. What?” Her voice turns playful. “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

“Magic wall.” He chuckles. “You’re just … you’re so …”

“What?”

“You’re all the magic I need in my life. You’re …” He lets out a breath, a long one. “Cade …”

“Juan …?”

The two fall silent. More gentle ruffling of clothing. Perhaps another embrace—or something else that requires no words, yet still makes the use of lips.

Kaleb drifts away again.

The next time he stirs, his room is dark, no sunlight from the window. He hears another quiet conversation nearby, the words soft, almost unintelligible. “I can’t read Ferals, not like I can with humans and … and other people like me. But Elias, I swear, I was, like … attached to the vampire … to La-La. It felt like my Reach worked the other way around. Like I could give La-La emotions. I could affect him. Change how he felt. I … I can’t explain it.”

“Maybe you’re evolving, babe. There’s no handbook for this shit, y’know? Hey … you’re alright, okay? Don’t worry. It’s over with. All of it. You don’t have to see any of them again.”

“I know, but—”

“Never again. Not ever. No, sir . They’re done. Markadian is fucking done. Dead. Their whole society. My mom’s free from them, too, now, finally. You and I … we’re fucking free.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Babe …” There’s the soft smacking of lips, a kiss, the squeak of a chair cushion. “I’m not gonna let a goddamned thing happen to you or your brother. Got it? You’re my family now.”

“Elias …”

“Hell, throw Drake in there, too. Mikey, also. All of you.” He lets out a soft chuckle. Another kiss. “You’re my family now.”

The conversation fades away—as does Kaleb’s consciousness.

The next thing he knows, his hand is being held once more. But the hand is different. Cooler in temperature, smoother. He opens his good eye to a dark room, save for one lamp near his bed. He turns—and is surprised to see Raya. Her white and black hair has been freed from its single large braid, now loose, the black strands over one shoulder, white over the other.

She seems to have noticed him move first, already staring at him, shock in her eyes. “Kaleb?”

He sits up too fast. He becomes swiftly aware of how weak his muscles are, how sore his body is, every movement delayed. “Raya,” he manages to croak, winces at the dryness of his throat.

She reacts at once, offering him a glass of water with a straw, directing the straw to his lips. Their eyes lock as he drinks.

“Your brother’s outside,” she says. “You’ll see him soon.”

Kaleb releases the straw, sits back. “Brother …”

“Yes. Kyle, your … your brother. Have you …?” She appears to have difficulty with the question. “Have you spoken with him? At all? Are you aware what’s happened? Where you are?”

“A little.” He can’t stop looking at her, afraid if he blinks, she might disappear, along with everything else. “Am I awake?”

She frowns. “Of course you are. What a silly question.”

Her curt response makes him crack a smile. At once, he loses all doubt. “We made it out of there.”

Then it’s Raya smiling. “We did.”

“And we got all the Bloods out, too? Every last one? I think I saw some of them earlier. Praying or something.”

Raya’s smile tightens into a grimace. She tilts her head either way, shrugs. “We got a lot of them out. It was chaotic. Only ten came with us back to this town. The rest, well, we’ll just hope for the best.”

“And I didn’t imagine it,” Kaleb carries on in his excitement. The questions pour out of him quicker and quicker. “My brother, my real, actual brother … He was there, too.”

“He’s here ,” she corrects him. “He’s been sitting by your side for many, many hours over the past few days, in fact.”

“Days?” Kaleb is nearly sprung from the bed, sitting up too fast again. “How long have I been here?”

“Two days, I believe. Perhaps three.” She glances back at the window. “Time feels so odd in a place of no illusions. I spent far too long in Markadian’s House. My sense of time … cannot be trusted.”

Kaleb hesitates. “Is it … Is it true that Markadian … is dead?”

Raya looks at him, struck by the question. Her eyes detach, mind wandering to another world. “I’m … I’m not sure.”

“I heard something. Maybe earlier tonight. My brother. I … I thought I heard someone say that Markadian … is …”

After a moment’s hesitation, Raya leans forward. “It shouldn’t matter. You should feel nothing for that man. He tried to kill you. Don’t you remember? The lion.” She suddenly can’t look at him. “That’s the reason your face is … how it is. And … your eye.”

“My eye?”

“Sorry.” Raya bows her head, as if literally growing heavier. “I feel like the doctor should be here, telling you all of this. I should summon one of them. Or both. I’m not equipped to—”

“I lost an eye, didn’t I.”

It doesn’t quite come out as a question. It’s a statement. To confirm what he already suspects, what he’s gathered in his foggy, deteriorated moments of consciousness over the past few days.

When Raya lifts her face to his, there are tears in her eyes. “It is so much more that you’ve lost. Because of one person. Because of someone I mistakenly called my best friend.” Her voice breaks upon saying the name. “T-Tristan.”

The name hits Kaleb at once. “Tristan? But he …” The misty blue eyes that pierced through the hungry flames. Gentle eyes of an angel. Hair as bright as heavenly light. “He’s the one who—”

“He’s the reason you lost your life to that prison,” she states. “He’s the reason you lost yourself to Markadian’s lust. Tristan is not your angel, Kaleb. He never was. He’s a selfish person who—”

“Raya.”

The two turn. Kyle has appeared at the door, silhouetting the light that pours in from the brighter hallway.

“And he’s back,” says Raya. “Do you disagree? With my little assessment of the disease that is Tristan?”

Kyle approaches the bed, comes to Kaleb’s other side. “I just think there’s a better time for this, and my brother—”

“He betrayed you, too,” she goes on. “His ambition in trying to bring back your friend from the dead, that cost me half my arm. You didn’t know that part, did you?” she asks Kaleb suddenly, her voice turning sad again. “I hid my arm from you all this time. In baggy sleeves and dresses. I was ashamed. Not for my missing limb, but for the fact that it reminds me of how so na?ve I was to believe Tristan was a good person. Tell him.” She turns her sharp eyes onto Kyle. “Tell him the story. You and Tristan. How this whole twisted affair began. Tell him what he did to you.”

“Not now.”

“Tell him how he ended your family, ended your life, and hid your brother from you for all of those years.”

Kyle bows his head, eyes shut. Raya, too, clutching the edge of the bed, holding back a whole tirade of anger.

After a moment’s thought, Kaleb says, “I see it another way.”

Kyle opens his eyes, turns to him.

Raya just stares down at the bed, jaw tightened.

Kaleb licks his dry lips and measures his words. “I … I see it as an act of … compassion. What Tristan did. I know what you’re probably thinking. It happened a long time ago. But I dreamt of it so often, it’s like it happened yesterday. That night … the fire.”

Kyle keeps watching Kaleb, listening.

Raya turns her head finally, her teary eyes upon him.

“Tristan could have left me,” says Kaleb. “He didn’t. He … He saved me. It wasn’t easy. He saved me from the fire. Vampires are vulnerable to fire. He risked his own life and … and saved me. I could be dead right now. Instead, I got to live so many more years. I got to meet you, Raya. I get to see you again, Kyle, my … my brother.” He smiles as he gazes at Kyle—who has started to gather tears in his own eyes. “I got to hone my violin skills. I got to read so much. Learn so much. Make new friends. My life hasn’t been so bad, not really. And now …” He suddenly thinks on the old man’s words of prayer. Were they uttered yesterday? The day before that? It feels like mere minutes ago. “Now I get a second chance at life. A second life. I’m born again, here with you two. And stronger for it. Tristan … saved me.”

Kyle and Raya peer at one another across the bed.

No more words are shared for some time.

Until Kyle finally takes his brother’s hand into his own, and upon his lips comes a smile that speaks volumes. “My brother …” He glances at Raya once more before turning to Kaleb. “I think it’s time you catch me up. On everything. I’m gonna sit here, right here by your side, and you’re gonna tell me about your beautiful life, every last bit, because from now on …” His smile brightens. “I’m not gonna miss another damned moment of it.”

***

Elias sits on the front step of the clinic, one leg tucked under the other, which is stretched out, foot wagging side to side. It has been a long day. His feet are sore. His hands feel too weathered to even bear the grip of a steering wheel. And though the night air brushes past his face, it feels as stifling as if it were perfectly still.

The glass door of the clinic creaks when Kyle steps outside. “I think he’s asleep for the night.”

Elias peers back at him, chuckles. “You make it sound like you just put the baby in his crib.”

“Why not? He can be a baby. My baby brother.”

Kyle hops down onto the step, sits, smiles into the night. Elias peers at his boyfriend, amazed at his level of energy, the change in his face, cheer in his eyes, all of it. Elias puts an arm around Kyle. The two sit like that for a while, peacefully enjoying the night.

“I can’t see many stars.”

Elias nods. “The shroud.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Apparently.”

“Magic is weird.”

“Super weird.” Elias puts a kiss on the top of Kyle’s head, lets out a sigh that tosses some bangs upward. “I’ve missed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Past few days since we’ve been back, everything’s been so … so … crowded.”

“Crowded? What do you mean by crowded? The survivors?”

“No, no. I’m happy they’re here and safe … even if this is … well … kind of like another prison.”

“Temporarily. Until Cade and Layna figure out how to poke a hole in the magic wall.”

“The shroud ,” mutters Elias.

“I still prefer magic wall.”

“By ‘crowded’, I just meant all the stuff going on. With Drake and his restlessness. Cade and her daughter. Jer, who found relief from his perky pecker, but still can’t speak. Everyone in town in a state of confusion, unable to leave, all of them forced to confront the very real presence of supernatural bullshit around them, even the ones who’ve been in denial since the day you came out at the bar. Oh, and the bar,” Elias goes on, laughs at himself, shakes his head. “Leland and Becks, what a blessing they’ve been, but damn, if they wouldn’t just finally fuck and get it over with, all the sexual tension you can slice with a hot knife.”

“I’ve been saying for months now,” mumbles Kyle.

“And finally the situation with Nico … who still hasn’t woken up. Is that normal? To sleep so much right after you’ve been—?”

“I slept for a week.” Kyle shrugs. “Apparently.”

“A week …” Elias rests his chin atop Kyle’s head with a sigh. “Do you think Drake did it right?”

“I don’t know. Nico’s still breathing.”

“Does Nico … even know? Like, what he is now? Is he aware what happened?”

“Probably not.”

“You seem awfully calm about this.”

“I have to be.” Kyle twists his head to get a look at Elias. “If I think about anything too much lately, I scream. So to avoid letting out any freakish screams, I just think less. It’s a good motto. You should try it. Just think less.”

“Think less.” Elias peers up at the hazy night sky.

“You’ve softened up about Drake.”

“Huh?”

“I can hear it. In here.” Kyle pats Elias’s chest, chuckles. “You aren’t so opposed to the guy being around anymore. What did the trick? Our little moment in the church basement together?”

Elias tenses up. “Kyle …”

“Oh, that hit the horny nail on the head. I felt it right away. It did do the trick.”

“Do me a favor and keep that Reach outta my pants, will you?”

“Why? I thought you like when I reach into your pants.” Kyle brings a finger to Elias’s chest, starts to draw shapes on his shirt. “You know … if you wanted to do it again …”

“Kyle.”

“… I’m not opposed to it. I know it excites you. It also makes you feel empowered, the way you relinquish yourself to me … and to him. One you trust completely. The other, a mystery. Y’know, you said to me not that long ago how you’re not the jealous type. Well, maybe I’m not the jealous type, either.”

“All this stress is making you delirious,” Elias decides. “You’re just … just talking out of your dick, and—”

“I’m giving you permission. I’m letting out my thoughts. It’s only fair,” Kyle points out, “since I have my Reach, and all of your emotions are pretty much out in the open when I’m around. Now I’m reciprocating in the best way I can. I’ve let you know some of my feelings. I’ll be your Reach whenever you want me to be.”

Elias sits with that for a while. The two draw quiet once again as the night sky continues to stretch on with its hazy nothingness, all the stars hiding, the moon along with it.

Something peaceful touches Elias’s heart. He finds himself smiling. “Is it crazy to say I miss when things were boring?”

Kyle chuckles at that. “When have things ever been boring? Our relationship has been a nonstop freight train of action. The most boring thing that’s ever happened to us is falling straight to sleep out of exhaustion the night we got back from Vegas.”

Elias perks up. “Huh? We definitely had sex that night.”

“What? We definitely didn’t.”

“Uh … no, sir, we definitely did.”

Kyle lifts his head from Elias’s shoulder, makes a funny face at him. “I’ve been right here at this clinic by my brother’s side since we got back. Unless we banged while I was passed out holding my brother’s hand, we definitely did not have sex.”

Elias smirks, peering deeply into Kyle’s eyes, then brings his hand to his boyfriend’s hair and rakes his fingers through it. “Are you less-than-subtly telling me you’re in the mood?”

Kyle sucks in his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I’m not.”

Elias looks him over. “So … you’re saying you are?”

Kyle reaches between Elias’s legs and cups his crotch tightly. Elias feels his hand squeeze with that perfect intensity that both excites and alarms him. His mouth drops open, sucking in air.

Kyle leans into him, his face close. “I love how easy it is to get you hard.” He squeezes again, draws even closer. “Does it matter that I’m doing this to you in front of the clinic parking lot? Think anyone will see us?”

“What happened to thinking less?” asks Elias politely.

Kyle squeezes again.

It’s like electricity from his fast swelling dick to the rest of his body, healing every sore, weary part of him, bringing him back to life in a way nothing else in this dusty town can.

Then Kyle catches Elias by his bottom lip.

With his teeth.

He holds him there like a hostage, teeth not quite puncturing. It is incredible, the power that Kyle wields, to take Elias under his control with just the gentlest pinch of teeth over a lip.

“Uh oh,” mutters Kyle with his teeth still clung onto Elias’s lip. “I think my Reach is trying to get into your pants again.”

“Uh-huh,” mumbles Elias back.

Kyle releases his lip, keeps his face close. “I think you and I are long overdue to spend a night in our own damned bed.”

“Can’t agree more,” says Elias back, out of breath, before the two of them fly from the ground to his vehicle in the parking lot.