Page 109 of Finch

they were headed, because Hugh had stepped into his line of sight and was peering down at

him with anxious eyes. “How are you feeling, Finch? Are you quite well?”

Finch desperately wanted to say he was fine, but instead all his mouth could come up with

was, “No.”

“Bugger.” Hugh scooped Finch up into his arms. He saw Hugh’s nostrils flare. “I’ll get you

upstairs to a bedroom, then. You can lie down until you feel better. How’s that?”

“No. Party. You.” If Finch could have shaken his head, he would have. He didn’t need tending,

he just needed time and sleep and probably about a gallon of tea and a whole loaf of toast.

He’d be fine. He didn’t need Hugh fussing over him while the ball was going on.

Either Hugh didn’t hear him or he ignored Finch’s words. He held Finch closer, enveloping him

in his delicious alpha scent, and bore him off to who knew where.

Hugh

There was something different about Finch, Hugh thought as the service elevator ascended.

Something pleasant. Something… sweet. Bertram had mentioned that not enough of the

stimulant had been absorbed to take effect, so it couldn’t be his heat. A new cologne, perhaps?

Hugh did enjoy Finch’s signature vetiver scent, which was papery and proper and clean, but

there was an undeniable allure to this new fragrance that made him want to press his nose

into the dip of Finch’s shoulder and indulge. When Finch was recovered, Hugh would have to

inquire as to what it was.

Until then, he’d simply enjoy it.

“You gave me quite the scare, you know,” he told Finch, who he had cradled in his arms. “What

happened? The elevator opened and you were on the floor with a young man beside you…” A

horrible thought occurred. “Finch, does this have something to do with… you

know… superin? Are you involved with harder substances?” The thought made Hugh’s heart

want to break. “It’s all the stress of planning the event, isn’t it? You were hoping to take the

edge off in the secrecy of the cellar with a drug cocktail, but the dosage was too high and

knocked you off your feet.” It was the only explanation that made sense. Why else would Finch

consort with a stranger in such an out of the way locale?

“No,” Finch moaned pitifully.

Which was exactly what someone who wanted to conceal their drug usage would say.

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