Ephraim nodded to show he understood, though if Hull had ever drawn strength from him, he had never known it.
Hull continued.“Most often it is done in an… intimate ritual.”
Ephraim could simultaneously hardly believe and hardly mistake his meaning.
Hull spoke on.“But if necessary one may draw from the elation of a crowd.The theatre, for example, is a wonderful source.And this method is far safer for the mortals; they each lose but a fraction of their own strength, so little they do not feel weaker for it, whereas if the same quantity were drawn from a single man, he might require a full day and night to restore himself.”
Ephraim endeavoured to rein in his thoughts which now galloped in conjecture well ahead of Hull’s words.On occasion after an intimacy with Hull he had felt some weakness, but no moreso than the lethargy that typically followed release.From what Hull described now, however, he ought to have collapsed insensible altogether for many hours at the very least.
Which suggested a troubling conclusion.
“Without drawing this strength,” Hull spoke on, “I am left with nothing for my body to repair itself, as Grytha said.”
This did nothing to allay Ephraim’s growing concern.
Hull drew in a shuddering breath and released it in an abbreviated sigh.“’Til now I have sustained myself on mortal crowds.”
Ah, thought Ephraim.Hull did attend theatricals and music halls weekly at the very least.But so did many of his fellow clerks.And, given Hull’s enthusiastic recounting of the performances upon his return, Ephraim hardly thought this magical compulsion formed the whole of his beloved’s ravenous passion for performances.
Regardless, Ephraim now knew with tolerable certainty that Hull had never fed upon him.He felt more bereft than he supposed he ought.This emotion he set aside for the present; his energies were better spent on attending to Hull’s explanation.
“However,” Hull continued, gesturing to the whole of his handsome self from horns to hooves with one sweep of his arm, “I can hardly go out in London in my present state.Nor can I summon my glamour again without restoring myself.”
Unable to summon his glamour without drawing mortal strength and unable to draw mortal strength without summoning his glamour.Now that Ephraim understood the conundrum he fully appreciated its gravity.A solution was imperative.He wished only that he were clever enough to concoct it.He made the attempt, nonetheless.“What must you do?Return to the fae realms?”
He did not add,Might I accompany you?
Ephraim had never asked to visit the fae realms.He suspected that Lofthouse had gone now and again.But it seemed the sort of place too fantastical for a fellow like himself—a clumsy, awkward thing even in the prime of his youth.Many a party had occurred at college and university alike without an invitation cast his way.He understood that his peers considered him unfit for more outrageous exploits and had accepted their judgment.
An indulgent smile graced Hull’s lips.A certain hesitation remained in his gaze.“No, I needn’t go so far as that.”
Ephraim’s heart leapt for reasons he did not have time to ponder at present.“Then—perhaps you might draw your strength from me?”
Hull’s ears pinned back as his eyes flew wide in horror.
Ephraim buried his disappointment; he had no wish to unduly alarm his dearest invalid.“Is it not the done thing, then, to draw one’s strength from one’s paramour?”
“Itisthe done thing,” Hull admitted with unaccountable yet evident reluctance.“But…”
Ephraim waited for him to explain.When he did not, he ventured, “But not when one’s paramour is a mortal?”
“That is done as well,” said Hull, to Ephraim’s continued bafflement.“But…”
“Then why?”
Hull grimaced.“It is possible to drain one to death.”
“…Ah,” said Ephraim.
“Particularly when one’s paramour is?—”
“Yes, I quite understand.Thank you.”
Hull drew up short.Ephraim didn’t blame him.He was rather surprised at himself.His words were not often so clipped with anyone, much less his dear Hull.He took some solace in knowing he hadn’t lost his temper altogether, certainly nothing like his speech after their disastrous first kiss beneath the mistletoe.
Ephraim softened his voice and tried to steer their conversation back onto its proper course.“How long have you starved yourself for my sake?”
“I would hardly call it ‘starving,’” Hull insisted with a desperate edge to his voice.
