“You’ll look weak if you go,” Noah explained. “We can’t do that. You should let someone else go for you. At least send Kristan, and someone else.”

Like a delegation. Lindsay could appreciate that.

“You should come,” Kristan said, glancing over at Noah.

“I’m not leaving the house unprotected.”

Lindsay felt irritation wash through Noah’s body as his muscles rippled. Suddenly, he saw Cyrus in his mind’s eye, with Vivian and Dane having a similar argument. The image made him want to laugh—the more things changed, the more they stayed the same—almost as much as it made his chest ache with grief. It was up to him to settle these things now.

“I need you to go if she says it will help.” Lindsay shifted to see Noah better, and he cupped Noah’s hot cheek in his hand. “We’ll be less safe if Patches decides we’re more trouble to have around than not.”

Noah’s jaw clenched, but he kissed Lindsay’s palm. “As you will.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t make me pull this thing over to puke,” Kristan muttered.

Noah laughed at that, softly, without taking his eyes from Lindsay. He relaxed enough to give Lindsay a soft kiss on the mouth that was as welcome as clean water. Lindsay leaned into it, seeking comfort, and was rewarded with Noah pulling him close.

Maybe he’d try to rest a little now. With Noah’s kisses stealing his tension, Lindsay finally felt the weight of all his exhaustion. He wove the illusion that hid them tighter. If it slipped in his sleep, it would still be strong enough to hold until he was awake. Only then did he rest his head on Noah’s shoulder and close his eyes.

The motion of Noah carefully moving to get him out of the car was enough to wake Lindsay, even though the bright light of day hadn’t kept him from sleeping for the last hour of the trip. The drive had been uneventful but tedious, and Lindsay’s head was throbbing with the unbearable tension of nothing happening.

“Kristan and I are going to see Patches now.” Noah helped Lindsay out of the car and slid an arm around him to make sure he was steady on his feet. “It’s best if we’re there during her normal business hours and have an audience of sorts. Word spreads and people will know we’re welcome if she agrees to let us stay.”

They’ll know we’re not welcome if she says no. Lindsay bit back the bitter words, feeling the bile of rejection and fear and rootlessness bubbling to the surface.

“She won’t say no.” Kristan came around the front of the car, tossing the keys and catching them again with an irritating ching-chunk noise that went straight to Lindsay’s brain. “She likes you, and she won’t pass on Noah.”

Lindsay looked up in time to catch the wolfish grin Kristan aimed at Noah and—if he’d been Dane—

his hackles would have gone up. Noah was his, and not for anyone to be taking as payment for anything.

“Noah’s not on offer,” he snapped and headed toward the house, forcing Noah to keep up or let go.

“She’s taking the piss out of me because of my family,” Noah murmured. “That’s all. Patches isn’t going to give up the chance to give refuge to a Quinn.”

Lindsay had forgotten there had ever been a time that Noah wasn’t his, that Noah had once belonged to something more powerful. More safe.

“Not that it matters.” Noah kissed his hair as they made their way into the house. “If she likes to think it does, she can, but I’m not one of them anymore.”

“You’d be safer if you were,” Lindsay pointed out.

“I’d rather be yours.”

Noah’s tone had the edge that Lindsay knew meant—for all that Noah was his—Noah wasn’t going to be yielding on the matter. He let Noah help him to bed and tuck him in, telling himself that it was to make Noah happy and no more. That didn’t stop him from falling asleep before the car left the driveway.

Lindsay woke to breakfast—takeout from Apollo 11—brought to him by Ylli.

“Noah said to tell you that Patches agreed to everything.” Ylli put the takeout bag down on the chair.

“He and Kristan are putting up some kind of eco-shower tank together, and we have a chemical toilet.

Patches is going to let us know how to turn the utilities back on, or where to find a generator. Meantime, we have what we need and you can probably shower by noon.”

Lindsay could have kissed him, but settled for a genuine smile instead. “Thanks. How is Zoey?”

“Happy to have a bed. I should go check on her, though. You can call if you need anything. Someone will hear.”

Ylli slipped out with a rustle of wings, and Lindsay was left to enjoy his breakfast and the distant sound of Noah and Kristan bickering. He was sure it would drive him crazy tomorrow, but today, it was music to his ears.

After he finished eating, Lindsay discovered a worn but serviceable armchair in the front room. The day’s papers were on the floor by the chair and, though the windows were papered over, there was enough light to read by.

He picked up the Free Press, which had a little sidebar article about an escape from the local juvenile detention center, and curled up in the chair to read. “Mysterious Disappearance”, the paper said. Lindsay smiled. They had no idea. Even such a tiny victory felt good.

“There you are.” Noah came in with a steaming cup in his hand. “Tea?” He didn’t look any worse for wear after all the driving and lack of sleep.

“Please.” It was strange, being taken care of by Noah—and Kristan and Ylli—but Lindsay was starting to feel more comfortable in his new role. He wasn’t just Dane’s apprentice anymore.

The transition was made easier by the way Noah seemed to know what Lindsay needed before Lindsay realized it himself. Like the tea.

“Good thing I made some.” Noah brought the tea over. “Hang on, I think we have...” He trailed off as he left the way he had come, and a moment later, the back door opened and closed.

“Here.” Noah came back with a milk crate in one hand and another cup of tea and a plastic bag in the other. He dropped and nudged the crate into place for use as an end table, and sat on the floor.

“Thank you. Not just for the—” Lindsay raised his cup in salute. “For all of this. If we’re going to be here a while...” And it certainly looked like they could be. None of them had anywhere else to go, not now.

“Might as well make the best of it, right?” Noah turned the contents of the bag out carefully and started poking through them. It looked like a haul from thrift stores and pawnshops. Various bits of broken

gold jewelry went into the bag again, but he kept out several little bags of old coins. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before, the rest of us. Well, aside from Zoey. Not a skill you can put on a job application, but it’s useful.”

“Dane dug me out of a dumpster and brought me back to Cyrus,” Lindsay said, sipping his tea again, remembering what it had felt like to wake up in that big, warm bed with Dane watching over him.

Terrifying, at first, and then more wonderful than anything he could have imagined. “I never really had to make do on my own. What are you doing?”

“Arts and crafts time.” Noah started sorting coins by size. “Making a set of runes, to start. Divination games are common when you’re a kid, where I grew up. I wasn’t bad at it. Well, pretty good, really. I think that’s one of the reasons I went so long before they finally broke down and admitted I wasn’t going to be any use. All the early signs were there. But they never turned into anything else.”

Lindsay wondered if that would be worse or better than what he’d lived with, the knowledge that he’d never been what his parents had wanted in a son. “When do people usually...come into their magic?”

“Some people are born with it, like second sight. That’s disappointing, too, for a lot of families. It means the child won’t ever have much else. The material has to be strong enough for the magic, and if the magic arises while the material is weak, either the magic is weak or the child will die. So, it starts cropping up as early as seven and as late as your teens.” Noah scooped up what seemed to be the rejected coins and shook them back into a bag. “They like to start seeing it around puberty. The brain has major shifts then, and it’s important for the magic to run in the body and develop with it. The later the manifestation, the more likely there are to be complications.”