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  “We picked new flowers!” the girl continued when Asher didn't reply. She was clutching a colorful bundle of flowers in her hands and held it up for emphasis.

  “What did you do that for?” Asher sat up in his bed as she exchanged the flowers in the cup and pushed the old ones onto the boy.

  “Because this room looks so boring! Duh!” She had attitude. Asher raised an eyebrow at her. “You're supposed to say thank you now, mister.”

  “Aren't we the ones thanking him for saving our lives?” the little boy asked.

  “That's what the flowers are for!”

  So that’s what that was about…

  “He has to thank us for thanking him?”

  “You're stupid,” the girl said, whacking the boy, who then rubbed his head and stayed silent.

  “He's not,” Asher found himself saying. “This stuff is confusing.”

  The little boy looked up at him out of big round eyes and smiled. “Yeah!” He seemed to dig up a bit of courage now that Asher was taking his side. “You're the blind mister's dragon, right? I think that's totally cool! When I grow up I want a dragon, too!”

  “No, I'm not. What are you talking about?” The boy made it sound like he was Blind Guy's pet dragon or something.

  “But you got that symbol on your back!”

  “What?” Asher turned his head to the left, then to the right, straining to see his back. There was something there, but he couldn't make it out clearly.

  “What the hell?” Had someone put a freaking tattoo on him while he'd been sleeping? “Get me a mirror!”

  He let his fingers run over his right shoulder blade while the children ran out. It felt like someone had carved fine lines into his skin. And no one had bothered to tell him.

  The children raced back in and then the little boy handed Asher a small mirror. Asher used it to inspect his back.

  “What the hell…” he repeated. Something was carved into his right shoulder blade alright. Some weird ass symbol about the size of his palm. Kind of like the tribal-style tattoos that had been all the rage a while back. Looking at it, Asher felt his blood pumping through his veins. He did not spent hours on skin care to have someone carve lines into him while he slept.

  “It looks really cool, mister!” the little boy said and Asher turned to glare at him.

  “I didn't want no fucking tattoo.” He threw the mirror to the ground, where it shattered.

  The children ran out of the room, but Asher couldn't care less. While he’d been out, someone had put a fucking tattoo on him! Someone had touched him. And ruined his skin in the process. What the fuck kind of creep did that? Asher shuddered, and searched his pockets for his lighters.

  That was when Blind Guy entered the room, a grim expression on his face, like he dreaded coming into the room. He knew what was up. Asher narrowed his eyes at him.

  “Calm down and—”

  Asher grabbed a pillow and hurled it at Blind Guy. “Shut up!” he said as the pillow hit its target with a force that made Blind Guy rub his head. Asher didn't care what Blind Guy had to say. This was his fault. Had to be.

  “How the hell did I get a fucking tattoo?” Asher looked around the room to see if there was anything else he could throw.

  “It's only—”

  “Why the fuck didn't you tell me?”

  “I was—”

  “I bet this world doesn't even have the laser technology to get it off!”

  “Listen, there—”

  “What sort of sick son of a bitch puts tattoos on people while—” Asher shut up when Blind Guy threw the pillow back at him, hitting his face. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to surprise him.

  “Would you listen for a second?”

  Asher only glared. “Why?” he said then. “You're gonna say something that'll heal my skin?” His voice dropped. There was nothing anyone could say, was there? Even if he bashed Blind Guy’s head in, that wouldn’t return his perfect skin to him, would it?

  “No,” Blind Guy said. “But I'm gonna say that tattoo is the only reason you're up and bitching now.”

  “What, they heal people by slicing into their skin here?” Asher scoffed.

  “Believe what you will, but that's what happened, and you're gonna have to live with it.” Blind Guy crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Look at me, I got two of them, but you don't hear me bitching.”

  “What do I care how many tattoos you… Wait.” Asher blinked and paused to think. Blind Guy pressed his lips together. “Why do you have any?”

  All this made less and less sense. Blind Guy sighed and sat down on the bed across from him. Asher dug his fingers into the pillow on his lap so he could throw it if needed.

  “We're in a sort of… pact now. And these symbols were needed to form that pact. So we could share our magic. You needed that to heal up.”

  “That's all?”

  “That's all.” Blind Guy stood up and walked toward the door. He stopped halfway through. “Oh, also, we’re leaving. I figure it’s not very smart to stay here for too long. I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

  Asher blinked at him. Blind Guy was probably right about being an easy target here, but he didn’t feel like spending all day on his feet. Through the window he could see the sun shining; it had to be hot out. “I was just about to go back to sleep when the brats came in,” he said.

  “One of these brats had their family here waiting for them. And they’re so thankful you saved their offspring they offered to give us a ride out of here.”

  “A ride?”

  “They have a cart, and I don’t know how comfortable that is, but you wouldn’t have to walk, at least.”

  “Yeah, fine, whatever,” Asher said, looking away from Blind Guy. He knew he should feel grateful, but he really couldn’t stand seeing him right now.

  Chapter 15 - On the Road Again

  They set out the morning of the following day. José would have liked to leave earlier, but the people who had been kind enough to offer a ride didn’t want to leave so close to sundown.

  Still, José couldn’t help but worry. How many people had seen Asher in the sky, and how many of those would come after them? It was bad enough that they had pissed off the authorities in Doblis, and the lavalight had told him that the blood of a slain dragon was highly valuable. One reason so few of them existed anymore.

  And as irritating as Asher could be, after all that had happened, José wasn’t going to let anyone lay a hand on him. Since he didn’t know this country, or the people they were traveling with, really, other than that they were elves, he always walked with one hand on the wooden cart and slept maybe two hours a night. The rest of the time he spent thinking of Maya and Jonas, and how he’d lost them. He thought of how close he’d come to losing Asher, too. And lying on the rocky ground beside the campfire, he only had to strain his ears a little to know that death was still around them.

  Asher didn’t seem bothered, so José knew everything he sensed had to be far away, but all the time he smelt smoke and he felt fires.

  “It’s only the rebels,” the lavalight said. “We’re close to their stronghold.”

  If she was trying to be reassuring, she was doing a poor job of it.

  “How long until your friend’s place?” José asked.

  “Not long. Stick with these people for another day or two.”

  ‘These people’ were one of the kids Asher had saved and his aunt and uncle. They were going back to their home town — if it still existed.

  Asher was mumbling something in his sleep. Some nonsense about pretty nails. He was healing up nicely, but sleeping still took up most of his time. It was for the best, too. As soon as he was awake, Asher found something to fight about. Anything José did seemed to set him off. Just the day before, they’d gotten into an argument about their favorite alcoholic beverages. It had started with Asher liking whiskey, and José liking rum. And it had ended with Asher calling him a tasteless bastard and José calling Asher an i
rritable idiot.

  It hadn’t stopped José from settling down beside him for the night.

  José perked his ears as Asher rolled over and stood up.

  “Going somewhere?” José asked.

  Asher paused. “Getting a drink if that’s okay with you.”

  “It’s perfectly okay.” They’d refilled some water flasks at a stream a while ago. José tried not to be put off by Asher’s tone, but a change of topic might be good. “Dream anything nice?” he asked as Asher searched through their provisions.

  “Not really.”

  José listened to him drink as an animal cried in the distance. It was far enough away not to be worrisome. “Do you remember at all what you dreamed after you got injured?”

  “Huh?”

  “When you blacked out, I mean.”

  Asher didn’t answer right away. Maybe he was actually giving it some thought. “I don’t,” he said then. “Why do you ask?”

  José shrugged. “Never mind.”

  “I remember something about a hospital.” Asher sat back down. “A real one, I mean. Not that pseudo hospital in Crapton, or whatever that place was called.”

  “Crigston.”

  So Asher remembered none of their dream sharing. Just like it hadn’t happened. Not quite the way José felt about it. He remembered what he’d seen. What, sadly, he wouldn’t be seeing again. A shame, really. Maybe that was why he was itching to touch Asher, even when they were fighting. Which was completely ridiculous, of course. He’d known Asher was hot before seeing him. He’d kissed him and mapped out his skin, and walked away from it because Asher was… well, Asher. But now recent events made José feel like maybe he’d been unfair in his judgment.

  It was too late though.

  When José had tried to help him change his bandages the night before, Asher had snapped at him to keep his hands off. A complete change in tune from before his injury, or from before their bonding. It could be that something about the ritual made Asher angry at him, even if he didn’t consciously realize it.

  It was as if José saving Asher’s life had destroyed all their chances at… at what? José shrugged the thought off. His mind was going strange places because his body was horny. “Could you give me some of that water?”

  “I guess.” Asher nudged his hand with the flask and José took it from him, brushing his fingers as he did so. Keeping himself from grabbing Asher’s hand took some conscious effort. It was ridiculous. He didn’t know Asher well enough to want to start something with him.

  “Hey, Asher,” he said, after taking a sip of the water. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “What?”

  “Your favorite color?”

  “What do you care about colors?”

  José took a deep breath. “Forget it.”

  “What, first you ask, now you don’t want to know?”

  “Chill, Ash.”

  Asher fell silent. José heard him lie back down. Asher was excluded from guard duty, so he could go back to sleep if he wanted. “I don’t know why I want to yell at you,” he said then.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

  “I don’t like how you get under my skin.”

  José pressed his lips together. How did you respond to something like that? A selfish part of him was happy to be getting to Asher at all, while another part wanted to apologize for not just getting under his skin, but right into his dreams, too.

  “It’s good to know something can get to you,” José said eventually.

  “Fuck you.”

  Well done, José.

  ***

  They came to a crossroads the following day. The lavalight wanted to take the left path, the elves wanted to go right.

  “Think you can walk for a while?” Blind Guy asked Asher.

  “Sure, I’m fine.” Asher hopped off the cart and stretched. He’d been looking forward to parting with these people. The snoring was awful and sitting on a cart was boring as hell. He needed to get some exercise. Blind Guy exchanged niceties with the strangers. Wishing them a safe journey and all that crap.

  Asher yawned and looked around. The path the little bitch wanted to take went up a slope, leading onto a mountain. There were a few trees, but not many other plants growing in the area, maybe because it was always so hot. Asher enjoyed the sun on his skin and he thought he’d tanned a little. It had been almost winter back in the real world and Asher hated the colder months.

  The strangers left waving. Lazily, Asher raised one hand to see them off.

  “You sure you’re fine?” Blind Guy asked as they followed the path uphill.

  “Perfectly fine.” Asher didn’t know how bad his wounds had really been, but in any case, his body healed fast. Maybe that was one plus of having magic around.

  “Just wanted to make sure.”

  Asher rolled his eyes at him. He didn’t need anyone to fuss over him, had never needed that. He looked back at the road ahead. To the right, smoke was rising up into the purple sky. “Hey, do you see that?” He glanced back to Blind Guy. “No, of course you don’t.”

  “I can smell it.”

  Asher started into a run before Blind Guy would spoil his fun. “C’mon, let’s check it out!”

  Chapter 16 - Slipping

  The ruins of a small town stretched out before Asher. Flames were nibbling at huts here and there, but most of the buildings had already burned out, leaving nothing but black, charred and empty shells of what they might have been. Smoke still rose in the air and made Asher’s eyes water as he walked deeper into the ghost town.

  “Asher!”

  He turned around to see Blind Guy catch up with him. Judging by the dirt on his clothes, he'd either run into a tree on his way or kissed the ground. A leaf stuck to his hair. Door number one, then.

  “You know you wouldn't crash into so many trees if you'd just let me burn them.”

  “Never!”

  Asher stepped closer to him. “Let me take the decoration out.” He stroked the leaf out of Blind Guy’s hair. It was a little ridiculous, but when he drew his arm back, and he was face to face with Blind Guy, close enough to kiss, his only thought was Damn, I want you to fuck me.

  “What?” Blind Guy furrowed his brow.

  Shit, had he said that out loud? Knowing himself, he probably had. Even the lavalight shot him a strange look before she fluttered off between the destroyed houses. Asher shrugged. It couldn’t be helped. There hadn’t been a day over the past week that he hadn’t thought about sex with Blind Guy, and what it would feel like. But his temper had run away with him time and time again. Asher didn’t know why, but he wanted to punch the man at the same time that he wanted to fuck him, and that was hella confusing.

  “Never mind.” He made himself take a step back, then walked farther into the village. “Think there's still people here?”

  Blind Guy fell into step beside him. Knowing him, he was probably glad Asher had dropped the topic of sex. “Maybe. Let’s just be careful.”

  “Scared?”

  “No. Smart.”

  “Whatever.” Asher turned into another road. Some of the buildings here had pretty flames licking at the walls. It was the most beautiful town Asher had seen so far. If only it had been night already; it would have brought the fire out more.

  Blind Guy stopped moving behind him. “There's someone in that building.” He pointed to his right. “And I think they're coming out.”

  “Oh, good. Finally something's happening.”

  “C'mon, we're not gonna stand around here in plain view.” Blind Guy tugged at Asher’s arm before he could protest and dragged him into the open doorway of a building to the left.

  “You're such a spoilsport,” Asher said, looking out onto the road.

  Blind Guy made a shushing sound and Asher rolled his eyes at him. Five people stepped out of a building farther down the road across from them. All of them seemed male. Two had cat ears and bat wings, the other three had blue skin; or sc
ales. From the distance, Asher wasn't sure which. The catbats laughed. It looked like they held the blue guys captive, leading them down the road.

  “They're coming this way.” Asher took a step forward. “I think we could take them.” But he couldn't even take another step before Blind Guy dragged him back farther inside the house—and pulled him against his chest. The sudden proximity sent a shiver through Asher. Damn his body for having an instant reaction.

  “What are you—” his last words came out muffled as Blind Guy’s hand landed over his mouth.

  “We're not fighting anybody,” Blind Guy whispered. His words fell against Asher’s skin, and, damn, Asher wanted his lips to follow. He closed his eyes. Wrong time, wrong time…Pull yourself together.

  “We’re totally fighting.” He brushed Blind Guy's hand away from his mouth and moved his arm up, trying to break free. “I feel like roasting someone.”

  “No roasting today,” Blind Guy said in a low voice and tightened his grip by wrapping his other arm around Asher’s waist. Asher inhaled sharply. Shit. He needed to get out of this position if he wanted to be able to think about anything other than what that body would feel like on top of him. Asher tried kicking the other man, but the way he was held (so tightly!) made that difficult. “If you keep that up, I'm gonna—”

  “Be quiet,” Blind Guy hissed. “And stop that! Don't get us busted!”

  As the words left Blind Guy's mouth, a weird sensation shot through Asher. One that had nothing to do with desire. Like a shock wave, it spread from the tattoo on his back to every cell of his body. Not painful, but scary in the way it made him lose control of his actions. His foot hovered in mid-air, then moved to the ground and stayed there. Asher wanted to lift it again, but the command never even registered with his leg.

  What…

  Asher opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but it was like he’d forgotten how to form words.

  What was wrong with him?

  He couldn't even stomp his foot on the ground in frustration.

  “Oh, shoot!” Blind Guy let go of Asher as if he'd been burned.