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I climbed into their bed. It jostled several times as they all got comfortable around me. I ended up back in between Mace and Gunnar. Crew took the spot next to Gunnar, and Ransom snuggled next to Mace. We were sharing a bed because we all missed Amias. I had five years they missed with him, and they had most of his lifetime.
The six weeks I stayed here could be a time we used to share stories, I hoped.
Maybe I could help them out in some way, even make things work out so they became glad I visited them. I yawned, and Gunnar pressed my head back against his chest. I closed my eyes, and I didn’t try to fight the need to sleep. They were all there, so maybe five of us together could keep the bad thoughts away for a night.
When I awoke sometime later, light streamed through the window. It wasn’t bright, but it was morning, nonetheless. Thunder boomed in the distance, and I remembered the rain. Will it storm for the entire six weeks? That was my first thought upon waking. My next was that I was still pressed against Gunnar’s chest, and Mace was tight against my back, his arm around my waist. Someone—it took me a second to realize it was Ransom—had his hand in my hair. His arm was above Mace’s head on the pillow.
Crew was asleep, his face turned away from us, his arm flung over his eyes like he was keeping out the light.
My muscles were tight. I hadn’t moved in a long time, and I didn’t normally sleep for very long. I wasn’t used to being able to lie still for so long. Men usually woke up very erect, in my experience, always hard in the morning.
But not this group. Whatever they did to control their sexual urges, it meant they weren’t hard even as they lay against me in the dawn.
It was an interesting experience, a novel one for me. When they woke up, they wouldn’t want to fuck me once or twice more before they left. I could just be there with them.
I stretched luxuriously, reveling in the freedom of the idea of having company in my bed without pretending I felt like having sex with them.
Gunnar sighed and his arms on my back tightened around me. His heartbeat was slow and steady. His eyes opened slowly, and as I leaned back just a little bit to look at him, he smiled at me, so I smiled back.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Morning.”
“Morning, ” I whispered back. “Did I keep you up?” It couldn’t have been easy to sleep with me pushed up against his chest.
He scrunched up his face. “No. Slept great. You are very…comfortable to rest alongside. I actually fell asleep. I even dreamed, and I haven’t in a long time.”
We whispered, but the other three woke up almost simultaneously in that moment. Mace squeezed my stomach and dug his head into my back. Ransom gripped my hair tighter and Crew flipped over to stare at us.
“Hi,” Mace said. “Good morning. Can’t believe how long I slept.”
Ransom groaned. “Could still be sleeping, if you guys weren’t so loud.”
“Not being loud,” I giggled. “Whispering actually.”
He groaned again, a longer sound this time. “Same difference.”
Crew sat up and grinned at me, but then his face became serious. “Last night was intense. It needed to be. Today we get back to it. There are so many things to do.”
Mace squeezed me tighter. “When are there not a million things to do? Let’s just lie here and be lazy. No one liked a good lie around day better than Amias. We can make it his memorial.”
Then they all sat up all at once. It startled me, so I did the same. What was going on?
“Something wrong?”
Crew jumped out of the bed. “Someone is very sick. Did you tell me you could heal?”
My drowsy brain struggled to keep up, but I got there. “Yes. But I’ve never had to help an enhanced person.”
He shook his head. “Regular human, a young child, aged five.” He pulled me from the bed. “They need help.”
4
FAIRYTALES ARE WARNING STORIES
One of them had washed and dried my clothes the night before, not that I knew which one or when. Maybe when I’d gone outside with Ransom—but they were dry enough for me to pull on my pants. My shoes, however, were still damp, so they squeaked as I struggled to keep up with the guys. I tried ignoring my discomfort, striding as quickly as possible.
Crew stopped running and turned to me. “Don’t be insulted.”
What did he mean? Then he hauled me into his arms, and I yelped. What was he doing? I understood in seconds—he needed me to move quicker than I physically could. I clung to his neck as he ran. Whatever was happening, it must be very, very bad.
