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Grey broke off the kiss but didn’t pull away. Leaning his forehead on Cort’s, he brushed his nose along Cort’s nose and smiled. “Nope. Not worried about what happened between us. Everything is good there.”
“Good. You’ve got enough to worry about without me adding to it,” Cort murmured.
Jerking away, Grey barked out a harsh laugh. “Don’t worry about me. The Circle has a knack for attracting trouble.”
“I’ve noticed,” Cort replied in a wry tone, but Grey thought he might still be smiling.
They finished dressing and walked toward the main house. Halfway across the patio, Grey stopped suddenly. Something…he felt something. Dark. Grim. But he couldn’t hear anyone.
“Someone is out here,” Grey announced.
“Just me,” Lucien said, his voice coming from the direction of the yard. “Took care of the bodies. Grabbing a shower. Be down in a few minutes.” His voice drew closer as he spoke. There was the sound of the door opening and then closing again. The dark feeling was gone, but the shadow of it was hard to shake.
“Grey?” Cort prodded.
“Describe his expression.”
“I don’t know Lucien that well, but he looked angry. Emotionally wounded. Exhausted.”
Grey nodded. That description matched the impressions he was getting from the man. His sense of his friends seemed to be getting sharper.
“You knew that already, didn’t you?” Cort asked after a few seconds.
“I could feel it. It’s strange, but the emotions of my friends are coming to me more clearly now. It’s still not like when I had my sight and full use of my powers, but it’s definitely better.”
“Your senses and brain could finally be adjusting to your lack of vision.”
“What do you mean?”
He could hear Cort taking a step on his left as if he were moving around to stand beside him. A hand lightly tightened on his biceps. “Think about when you had your vision. All day you were hit with millions of images, but your brain quickly sorted through it all, deciding what was important and what to ignore. You didn’t even notice it. When you lost your sight, your brain lost a sense it depended on. It tried to overcompensate by deeming everything coming in important, so you noticed everything.”
“I got overloaded all the time,” Grey murmured.
“It’s been a few weeks now. Your brain might have started to figure out what to tune out and what to focus on.”
“Like the emotional state of the people most important to me.”
“Exactly.” Grey frowned and Cort’s hand tightened on his arm. “You don’t seem happy about that. I thought it would be good news.”
“It is, but I’m not sure what I can do with that yet. What I’m sensing is all very abstract, still. They tease and joke about me serving as the resident therapist, but I took pride in being able to help them. Particularly when I’m not of great use in battle. I’ve been able to help both Clay and Baer work through some difficult things, but I was only able to do that because I could clearly see the thoughts and memories they were hung up on. It was like serving as a guide through a complicated maze. But now, I’m not sure how I can even help Lucien if I can’t see into his mind.”
Cort leaned in and pressed a kiss behind his ear. “Sometimes the best thing you can do is just listen.”
Grey nodded. “You learn that when you got your fancy degree?”
Cort snorted. “Oh, yeah. Years of college just for that.”
A smile was teasing Grey’s lips when he continued to the doors that led into the breakfast nook. Debris no longer crunched under his feet, but he noticed that Cort was now holding tightly to his arm.
“Something wrong?” Grey demanded, his body tensing as he prepared to jump into action.
“Hey, Grey!” Wiley called from what sounded like the kitchen. “Some stuff has been moved around while we cleaned up the mess.”
“I’ve got him, Wiley,” Cort said easily and Grey relaxed, feeling only slightly like an overprotective idiot.
The sound of the oven opening and the smell of warm cinnamon hit him all at once. “What are you baking?” Grey inquired as his stomach growled.
“Just pulled some cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Figured everyone’s hungry, and this was quick and easy.”
“We’ll figure out something more substantial after we talk,” Clay added.
Grey’s head whipped around in the direction of Clay’s voice. It sounded like he’d walked closer from the family room. “Are you okay? You were shot, right?”
“I’m fine.” Footsteps thudded closer, and then Clay’s large hand closed over his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Hit my thigh. Hurt like hell, but that was about it. Dane got me patched up quickly.”
“Anyone else hurt?” Cort inquired.
“Calder had a few deep cuts from flying glass, but he’s good now.”
“Dane?” Grey asked. The healer was quickly drained from extensive healing sessions. Part of Grey hoped that another of the soul mates turned out to be a healer as well just to take some of the burden off Dane.
