“I’m glad you’re home,” Lindsay murmured.

“Me too.” Dane was a little breathless, but he smiled and rolled them over again so that he could look down at Lindsay. “Hate to leave you to manage all that sexual tension on your own,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Lindsay opened his mouth to deny it, but he knew it was useless. Dane could smell it on him. “It’s...

It’s nothing. I couldn’t do anything about it even if I wanted to. He’s fragile.”

“And you weren’t?” Dane’s voice was uncharacteristically tender. He leaned down and kissed Lindsay. “Nothing is going to change you being mine, though, little bunny. No one. Whatever you do or don’t do.”

That eased a tension in Lindsay he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He sighed and tucked his head down onto Dane’s shoulder. “Thank you. But I don’t think it will matter. He’s...”

Some of what Lindsay had seen in the gymnasium came back to him, that onslaught of imagery he hadn’t been able to decipher. The flashes were more comprehensible now that they weren’t all on top of each other. A fire, a truck exploding, a woman burned and dying.

“I think Noah stayed with her. Whoever she is. He wanted to die and he hates his magic because that’s what saved him.”

That’s what saved him. The words coming out of Lindsay’s mouth sparked a crushing surge of memory, and if he hadn’t been able to cling to a shred of awareness that the memories weren’t his, he would have been sick with horror. Only his discipline kept him in touch with himself. He could feel Noah burning, and the more horrific pain of knowing that the woman in his arms was dead. The fire was welcome. Death was better than this.

Lindsay sucked in cool air the way Noah had drawn in a searing breath and surrendered. That last breath should have killed Noah, but instead, the fire of his magic woke, with nothing left to hold it back, and assimilated the inferno around him that still fed on a nearby sea of fuel. As Noah fell into the merciful dark of unconsciousness, his fire fell down with him, and was extinguished.

“Lindsay.” Dane’s gentle voice brought Lindsay back to reality. His eyes were still open, the room was lit. The memory had been so strong that he had been seeing through Noah’s eyes.

“He’s damaged.” Lindsay finished the sentence he had let fall short before. It didn’t stop him from being drawn to Noah in the least. Knowing Noah’s pain made him want to be closer to Noah, to give something—anything—to ease it a little.

Dane shifted to lie on his side, sheltering Lindsay against him and kissing his hair. “People heal. If that happens, and you want him and he wants you... If it’s good for you, it’s good for me. Doesn’t change anything between us. Makes me happy, knowing you’re happy.”

It wouldn’t be a concern any time soon, if the way Noah’s mind had felt today was any indication. But Dane’s understanding and reassurance soothed the last of Lindsay’s discomfort at being attracted in the first place. He snuggled up against Dane and closed his eyes, basking in how lucky he was to have Dane here, whole and well.

“I’m happy now.”

“So’m I. I’m a limited man. Nice to have something that’s no one’s business but mine.” Dane sighed into his hair.

“Definitely yours.” Everything had changed for Lindsay since Dane had come into his life. He only hoped he could make that kind of difference for Noah too. “I don’t want to screw up what’s mine. I can feel him churning in the back of my mind. I can’t fuck this up, Dane.”

“I felt like that with you,” Dane said. His fingertips tracing the line of Lindsay’s spine were soothing.

“You’re not necessarily the one in charge, though. Let your magic work. Sometimes, that’s all you need to do. Listen to it. I listened to mine.” He growled softly and nipped at Lindsay’s ear. “It showed me the way to you. You were mine from that moment, when I fought Jonas for you and dug you out of that old dumpster. Before Cyrus gave you to me, you were mine. Being pissed at him just kept me from knowing it for a while.”

Warmth blossomed in Lindsay’s chest, hearing that. “I’ll listen.”

“Anything you need, though, ask.” Dane kissed his temple. “Anything. I’m at your service.” They were naked and marked with the stains of sex and sweat, but there was something formal lurking in Dane’s words, and he held Lindsay a little tighter.

“Thank you.”

Lindsay was beginning to understand, without knowing how, what that tone meant. He could sense it under his skin. He’d heard it when Noah spoke to Cyrus. He’d felt it when he spoke to the barre and it fell into his hand.

Something was shifting, like Cyrus had picked up a weight and moved it from one pan of a scale to the other. Whatever it was, it was already done. Lindsay closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to Dane’s shoulder. The pressure this deep in the world of magic made it hard to breathe sometimes.

They had a date planned for a few days from now. It would be a welcome escape to the surface of things. Time to breathe.

Chapter Three

Whomever Cyrus was waiting for, Lindsay wanted to thank her. The few months since Cyrus moved them to Atlantic City had been a revelation— this was how life was supposed to be. Safe, and comfortable.

For the first time in his life, he felt like everyone else. The irony that he’d only gotten to this point by failing to be “cured” of his magic didn’t escape him.

Their first date had come out of the blue. Lindsay was sitting across the table from Dane at a lovely French restaurant, trying to decide between the scallops and the salmon, before he grasped that this wasn’t part of his training. Dane didn’t laugh at him—well, not much. Lindsay had been too smitten with the entire notion to be even a bit offended.

Tonight, they were off to a classic burlesque revue. He’d been reassured that real burlesque wasn’t all strippers and feathers. Lindsay was sure Dane would get a great deal out of feathers and fishnets and flashing breasts, but he wouldn’t be getting anything out of Lindsay later if Lindsay had to sit through that.

Dane hadn’t disappointed him yet. Not once. Lindsay looked up as they were led to their seats and found luminous feral eyes on him. Always. The smile Dane gave him felt like a kiss. Lindsay had no idea how to be this happy. He was making it up as he went along, guided by Dane’s good example.

The lights in the hall dimmed, and they were completely anonymous in the crowd, just another couple waiting to see the show. No one looked twice at them. Locals never came to these shows and tourists were more self-absorbed than most people. Even without an illusion to hide them—Lindsay couldn’t bear to use one and Dane never asked him to—they were as safe as they ever were.

In the dark, Dane slid his arm around Lindsay and pulled his chair close. Safe and together. Lindsay let his head rest on Dane’s shoulder as the stage lights came up.

The opening act was a comedian with bushy hair and a penchant for jokes that hinged on a knowledge of popular culture Lindsay didn’t have. He turned his attention to watching other people’s reactions to the humor instead, and found himself fascinated by the way some of them were only pretending to be amused.

The tightness at the corners of their mouths and the shift of their eyes told him it wasn’t real. They laughed along with everyone else, but it was as much an illusion as Lindsay’s magic.

Before the comedian had quite cleared the stage, a fog started creeping into Lindsay’s mind. He pushed it back to keep from losing himself to his magic. He hadn’t had trouble holding Noah’s mind before, but nightmarish flashes slipped in now, threatening to overwhelm him.

When he reached for Noah to check on him, fear and rage and the taste of someone else’s magic on Noah’s mind filled Lindsay up until he could hardly breathe.