Page 132 of Touch in the Night


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“We can’t…” was all he could manage to say.

“We’ve proved today we can do anything,” Emory said, smiling. “Be my husband. Be Dimity’s dad. Let’s be a legal, registered family.”

“Em, I mean…wecan’t. It’s not legal. Not even Kelly could swing it.”

“Yet,” Emory said, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a small velvet box. Jesse’s throat closed over. Emory opened it. Two platinum bands lay on the white cushion inside. The Ferris wheel kept turning, but Jesse still didn’t speak.

“I’m your family, Jesse,” Emory said softly, “whether you say yes or not. Remember that. But whatever the law says, let’s wear these.” He picked out one of the rings and held his hand out. “I don’t care what the world thinks…only you.”

Jesse bit his lip, hard, then watched as he held his hand out, like it was being controlled by someone else. Emory’s face shifted, and Jesse realized he’d been genuinely scared. But the fear evaporated in a wash of joy, and he slipped the ring onto Jesse’s finger. With shaking hands, Jesse pushed the other ring onto Emory’s.

He kissed Emory with deliberation, enjoying the simple joy of being able to touch him and not think about anything else. Gradually, he became aware that the ride had stopped, and a small crowd of children and adults were standing around clapping. He blinked.

“Did they know you were going to do this?” Jesse stammered.

“You mean you didn’t?” Emory said. He was grinning.

“You’ll never stop surprising me, will you?”

“I sincerely hope not.”

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Blood and Bonds:

Bleed in the Night

S. J. Coles

Excerpt

Summer was at its height. York hadn’t felt a breath of wind or a drop of rain in weeks. Even at night, the air was still and heavy, like it was choked by a storm waiting to break.

But the weather wasn’t the reason Tyler couldn’t sleep.

It had been the same every night for weeks. As soon as he switched the light off, he was back on Askham Moor. Hands stronger than iron crushed his body. Adrenaline coursed through his veins like venom. The smell of his own urine was sharp in his nostrils.

He could hear his own voice bleeding out of him, freezing and dying in the cold night air: “Let me fuckinggo,” he cried. “Let me gonow,or I swear I’ll…”

The grip on him tightened. Fingernails sharp as glass shards pricked his flesh.

“Be still.” The voice was as smooth as an oil spill. It poured into his ear and down his nerves, stretching them to the point of snapping. The hot, fragrant breath against his skin made his traitorous body shake.

“This is assault. I’ll have you arrested, I swear.”

“This is what happens when weak men pretend they are strong.” The creature tightened his grip in Tyler’s hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. “Do you still think you are strong?”

Tyler fought air into his lungs, staring at the stars that had started to wheel overhead. “Who…who are you?”

“I am Lucien,” murmured the voice. “Whether you live another fifty seconds or another fifty years, you willneverforget that name.”

Tyler threw his pillow across the room. It knocked a hi-fi speaker flying. It crashed to the floor with the sickening sound of splintering wood. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, breathing hard, until the red mist swirling before his eyes faded.

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