Page 64 of Caretaker

“There’s another way.”

“The incubus.”

I nodded. “He freed you once. He can do it again.”

“He’s gone,” Clayton said. “I can’t feel him.”

“No. You know he’s not really gone.” I hesitated. “I saw him in your eyes the day they took Angus away.”

“I felt him before. I don’t feel him now. So I don’t know.”

I smiled grimly. “Miriam knows. And she’s afraid of him, Clayton. That means she knows he can free you. If we can’t kill her, then Seth Damon is our only hope.”

Ahead of us, Rhys signaled he was about to turn into the driveway of a brick one-story, and I pulled in behind him. I shut off the engine, then blew out a hard breath. Without thinking, I reached across the seat to grasp Clayton’s hand.

He reflexively jerked, but before I could withdraw, he tightened his grip and held me there. “Wait.”

But when his eyes began to redden, I jerked my hand away. “I can’t stand to see you in pain.”

He blinked away the blood. “It’s worth a little pain to touch you.”

I clutched the steering wheel. “I hate that you have to live this way.”

“I have dreams of being free. That’s more than I had before.”

“Dreams are not enough.” I opened the car door and we climbed out to join Rhys. “Let’s get you settled, then I’ll head to the island.”

Clayton hefted the small bag he carried. “I’m going to shower, then have dinner with you. Afterward, we will head to the island.” He still flinched when he moved, and he walked gingerly, holding himself carefully, but his eyes were bright and his mood was good. Just being away from Miriam was helping him recover.

“I’ll give him something to help him feel better,” Rhys said. “He’ll be okay now.”

Derry had left my overnight bag outside Rhys’s door, and I grabbed it as we waited for Rhys to unlock his door. I was badly in need of a hot shower and blood-free clothes.

Rhys’s place was freakishly neat and uncluttered. It had absolutely nothing personal that might give a clue to who Rhys Graver really was. No framed photos, no albums, no movies. Anyone could have lived there.

It didn’t matter to me. I knew he was a good guy, and I knew he would do anything for a friend.

“I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid,” he said, after he’d given us a short tour. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll run out and get us some dinner while Clayton is cleaning up.” He handed Clayton a small packet. “Take these before your shower. Take two more when you get to the island. They’ll make you forget your woes.”

After Rhys left, I trailed Clayton to the bathroom, afraid to leave him alone. With everything I now knew about Miriam, I half expected her to flow out of the faucet with the water and drag Clayton back home.

He understood.

I shut the bathroom door and leaned against the wall, watching him undress. He groaned as he tried to pull off his t-shirt, and finally, I grabbed a pair of scissors from the sink and cut it off him. I made sure not to touch him, no matter how much I wanted to.

He balanced himself against the wall while I knelt to pull off his shoes, and then I stayed where I was, looking up the line of his body, as he unfastened his pants.

I pulled them over his hips, shoving them away when he stepped out of them, and then I held my breath as I grasped the fabric of his boxers and helped him out of them.

I needed to see him as he was now. I needed to get the images of what Miriam had done to him out of my head. So I knelt on the floor and clenched my fists, and I devoured with my stare the beauty and strength that I could not touch.

When he began to grow stiff beneath my regard, I glanced up to meet his eyes. “You want to touch me,” he murmured.

My voice was hoarse when I answered him. “So much it hurts.”

“Even though you saw me like that.”

“I want to scrub that from my brain. Seeing you like this will help.” I lifted my hand, hesitated, and lowered it back to my lap. “Take your shower. I have two men I need to free and time is running out for both of you.”