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His face turned away from me, to look at my wall. “I also can’t feel much. ”
“So you can’t feel me? Or feel this?” I asked, leaning in to kiss his chest. He reached up and caught the back of my head, holding me to him. I kissed him again.
“I—I remember the memory of touch. Sometimes I think that’s what it is that I feel instead. Memories of times I’ve been touched before. ”
“That’s poetic. But also very sad. ” I grabbed a fistful of my hair and played it down his stomach, left a trail of warm breath at the edge of his jeans. “Nothing?”
“Not much,” he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.
I reached a hand down and pulled clawed fingertips up the inside of his thigh. “Nothing?” I asked again, from the vicinity of his waistband. I raked my hand up the inside of his other thigh, and then seated it between his legs, rubbing what I found there.
“Some places were burned less than others,” Ti admitted, arching his back slightly.
“Ooooohhh,” I said. “I love a challenge. ”
My doorbell rang, twice in quick succession. I thumped my head down onto the still-closed button of Ti’s jeans. “You are kidding me. ” I shook my head, and began unfastening the buttons as the door rang again.
“You’re not going to get that?” Ti asked, sitting up, pushing me back.
“No. ”
“It might be important. ”
“This is important,” I said, making an expansive gesture.
“This,” Ti said, making my gesture back at me with a rueful grin, “isn’t going anywhere. So go get your door. ”
I got my legs underneath myself. “Fine. But if it’s my brother, I reserve the right to kill him. ” The doorbell rang again. “Just a minute!” I yelled, then looked back at Ti. “You, stay here. I will be right back. Stay put. ”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t want to end up like the drago
n. ”
“Precisely. ” I made a face at him and ran into my bathroom to pull on my robe. Then I went back out to my entryway and looked out through the peephole. Maybe I was lucky and it was a misdelivered pizza.
Just outside, pacing in a circle, I saw Asher.
“We don’t want any,” I said, through my closed door.
“Edie, open up,” Asher commanded.
“Why?”
“We need to talk. ” He rapped once on the door, in frustration. “Open up already. ”
“Dammit to hell. ” I opened up the door, and he immediately shoved his foot in so I couldn’t close it. “I was sleeping, Asher. I work night shift. What’s this—”
“I went to Y4 this morning, and saw my relative there. ”
“So?” I said, trying to close my door, regardless of his foot.
“Stop that,” he said, putting an arm out against the door.
I gave up on closing him out and let the door swing wide. “You could have texted me, or written a letter, or, I don’t know, sent flowers, or something. ”
“I talked to the social worker about our patient. And he told me about your situation,” Asher said, his British accent clipped by anger. “Everything. ”
“Hypothetically, right?” I sardonically joked. My eyes met his for a moment and saw his features there burble and switch. It could have been my imagination, or a shadow, or who knows, indigestion—but I recognized the final face and the emotion it portrayed was earnest.
“Edie, the shapeshifter you saw was my friend. He was spying on the Zver, passing for one of their daytimers. When they caught him they passed him around like a toy until they broke his mind. They’ll do even worse to you. ” He stepped back and held out his hand. “I can save you if you come with me, Edie. But you have to come now. ”
I was barefoot and my robe offered no protection against the cold. It’d been freezing and then some last night, and the sun wasn’t winning any fights this afternoon.
“I can’t—”
“We have safe houses all over the country. Only a few such facilities like Y4 exist—in rural areas, we take care of our own. I can transport you away from here, set things in motion. After that, you never even have to see me again, if you don’t want to. ” His empty hand traveled up to cup my cheek. “Though I’ll admit that that thought makes me the slightest bit sad. ”
