That quickly, Scout saw with his heart, where it counted, why Lucky had been hurt so very much by Scout’s blithe assumption that he would just hold some hands, use some power, and Walla-Walla-Washington, it was all going to be okay.
Lucky had seen too many people go out of his life—his parents, his grandparents—for that casual assumption that everybody would come back to hold much meaning.
But as Scout’s feet touched down in grown-up land, where relationships were real and the promises lovers whispered at night held important ramifications for the morning, he also knew that he had to convince Lucky thathewas the key to keeping Scout from disappearing into the great beyond.
“Frankly, no,” Scout told him, keeping his voice gentle. “And now that I have, I can see why you got so mad. But I’m not trying to leave, here. I’m trying to find out how to free those trapped spirits, and I need your help.”
“But why?” Lucky demanded. “Why is it so important! They’re all dead. They’ve been dead for nearly two centuries! What does it matter that they had sadness in their lives? So does everybody else. Why do you have to risk your life to fix their sadness?”
Scout swallowed and wondered if he had enough grown-up skills to help Lucky understand this. “Because it wasn’t onlytheirsadness,” he said softly. “It was all of our sadness. It was Kayleigh because she saw herself in the little girl who wasn’t ever gonna be enough. It was me because I spent my entire life wanting to go beyond my boundaries, but I was so scared of what I’d be leaving behind that I had to wait until Alistair kicked me out to see what I could do.” His throat grew thick with this next part, and his voice too, because this next bit was the worst. “And it’s your sadness too, because you got left behind, and you spent so much of your life looking off in the distance, wondering if someone was going to come back to you, that you never looked for someone who was there waiting.
“You think Henry didn’t have opportunities here, after Tom left?” he continued. “Because I’m betting he did. But he sat on that bench, staring off into the sunset, and he didn’t give anybody a chance, just like you didn’t give me or Kayleigh a chance. And Piers and his cousin are running away from exactly the sort of violence that killed those poor kids. Something about that clearing resonates in all of us, and that makes it our job.”
“Why?” Lucky’s voice had grown staticky and fractured, and Scout took a risk and took a few steps forward, taking Lucky’s shaking hands in his own. “Why is it our job?”
“’Cause we’re human beings, Justin,” Scout said softly. “And human beings risk it all just by breathing. We risk love and loss. We risk having the person we care about most taken away from us. I-Iwarped time and spaceto keep Kayleigh with me. That’s gotta mean something, right? That’s gotta make me tough enough. Gotta make me someone you can trust. I won’t leave you behind, baby. Not if I can help it.”
Lucky swallowed, and it went down hard. “You said you’d never use that name,” he said brokenly.
Scout took another step forward and wrapped his arms around Lucky’s shoulders. Lucky held himself stiffly for a moment before allowing himself to be loved.
“Names are a big deal in magic,” Scout said softly, holding on tight. “They bind us closer. They help us know a thing. You’re Lucky, through and through, but the part of you that was a baby, that used to know how to trust—that part was Justin. That’s the part I needed to hear me.”
“Which part of you goes by Scotland?” Lucky asked against his shoulder, and Scout laughed softly, feeling so much stronger now that they were touching.
“The part that I left behind at Alistair’s,” Scout told him. “All that’s left here is Scout, and he’s the guy who’ll move Wisps and haints and heaven and hell to get back to you.”
Lucky tilted his head back to meet Scout’s eyes. “That’s a nice thing to say. It’s not quite, ‘Fine, Lucky, I’ll leave it alone,’ but you tried.”
“Oh my God, you’re a pessimist!”
“I’m arealist—”
Scout kissed him. Yes, sure, it was probably a chickenshit way to win an argument, but they werekissing, and that wasawesome.
Lucky sighed and melted into him, and Scout pursued the kiss, his relief lending him an assertiveness he hadn’t known he possessed.Lucky would forgive him.Not for taking over the kiss; Lucky seemed all aboard with that. But Lucky would forgive him for hauling them off into this adventure, this crazy, possibly dangerous, really appealing mix of magic and altruism.
Scout could see these people not only with his mind or his magic but with hisheart. And that was the sort of community he keenly felt the lack of in his short life. He wanted to help them, but he didn’t want to do it without Lucky by his side.
Lucky’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Scout lifted Lucky up to his tiptoes so their groins were rubbing together, and Lord knows where that would have led if Helen hadn’t taken that moment to tap on the inside of the doorway and say, “Ahem. Lucky, I told you we’d be by.”
Scout had his back to the doorway, and Lucky—still standing on his toes—peered over Scout’s shoulder. “Sorry, Helen,” he said weakly.
Scout gave him a lascivious grin. “I’m not,” he murmured, for Lucky’s ears alone. “I was just going to shower,” he called over his shoulder, and realized that Marcus was standing behind Helen, covering his mouth with his hand. “Kayleigh brought donuts. Grab one while Lucky catches you up.”
“Coward,” Lucky muttered, but Scout didn’t feel like it was a retreat so much as it was a regroup. All he had to do now was convince Kayleigh, and with Lucky on his side, he could do anything!
Old Ghosts
HELEN ANDMarcus walked into Lucky’s studio bearing a bag full of sausage biscuits and, thank God, some cups of actual coffee with no dressings.
“It is like a parade of breakfast food running into my apartment this morning,” Lucky muttered, taking the bag of food and flat of coffee with a nod of thanks. “What’s next—a kid’s chorus with breakfast burritos or something?”
“We didn’t have one planned, but that would be rather charming, wouldn’t it, Marcus?”
“I’d definitely fit it in my schedule, and I shall forever be disappointed that the Children’s Burrito Choir has not yet made an appearance in Spinner’s Drift, Helen. I don’t see how we could have lived without it thus far.”
Lucky regarded them both with a flat, unforgiving gaze. “You two should do standup,” he decided before setting the food down on the little island in the middle of the kitchenette. “But if you can help Scout with the stupid thing he suggested we try next, I might forgive you.”
