Cirian told me of an agent from the Church named Malachi and the strange ailment that befell him after the time spent amongst the Converts. About how he and Bastien helped him recover his voice and their interaction with the Sleeper, and finally how Malachi had tried to kill the Cardinal, only to have his body turned into the strange darkness that filled the Cradle, and the irresistible call that brought so many to that terrible fate.
“I let him walk right into it, Az. Let him get swept away in the crowd. He was there in my arms one second and the next—” his voice broke as he tucked his chin, a curtain of hair obscuring his face from me.
“There was nothing that could have been done,” I assured him. “Even the Cardinal was trapped in this mire. It would have taken you all either way.”
“Maybe,” Cirian replied, wiping at his face. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“You care a great deal for him,” I said, speaking my suspicions aloud. “Something has shifted between the two of you.”
Cirian huffed a broken laugh. “I guess that’s true, yeah. Nothing has been the same since Tobias wove these blasted threads between us. Bastien is still the insufferable stick in the mud he’s always been, but over the last few months….”
“He’s become something more.”
Cirian nodded, lifting his gaze to meet mine, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.
“He walked away from me, Az. I was right there, holding onto him, and he ran. He left, just like Tobias. Just like everyone I’ve loved.”
I took the space next to him on the bench, resting my arm around his shoulder and pulling him close to me. He lay his head on my shoulder, quiet sobs rolling through him.
I didn’t speak. I’d never been good with comforting words. But I could hold onto him. Support him with the sturdy frame I’d been given. And as he quieted once more, I reached over to brush the hair from his eyes.
“I’m here,” I told him, because it was the only thing that felt right. “I’ll help you carry the weight.”
He watched me, dark eyes shining with the currency of his pain.
“What if we can’t find him?” he whispered.
“We will. And you’ll be able to speak your piece.”
“What if it’s my fault? What if I’ve already poisoned things between us? You didn’t see his face, Az.”
“Those are questions for another time. Now is the time for action. Bastien is depending on us.”
Cirian nodded, dragging his hand across his cheeks. “You’re right. Thank you, Azrael.”
“Think nothing of it. My heart hurts for the both of you. Especially to lose contact so soon after a mating?—”
“Whoa, who said anything about mating?” Cirian interrupted, color blooming under his cheeks.
My own pulse spiked at his response. “Apologies, I assumed that is what had changed between the two of you. Have I misread the situation?”
“No,” he admitted, his gaze falling once more to his hands. “It’s just—it happened right before this madness, and I haven’t exactly had the time to sort through that emotional baggage as it were.”
“I understand. Mating can bring up many emotions.”
“Can you please stop calling it mating?”
“Is that the improper term? We Unseen refer to it as such, so I just assumed?—”
“We definitely don’t call it that.”
“What is the proper word, then?”
“Uh, fucking? Love making? Sex? Ugh, now all of them sound weird.”
“Fucking. I think that’s the term Tobias used when we mated back in the Sanctuary City.”
Cirian snapped his fingers. “I knew it. I told Bast that there was no way the two of you took a shower together without some sort of hanky panky going on.”
