Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(41)

I sank onto the mattress beside Falin and swiped a strand of blood-crusted hair from his face. His cheek twitched as the hair pul ed away, but he gave no other response.

“You’re sure?” I asked without looking up.

Caleb rested his hands on my shoulders and squeezed lightly in what was probably meant to be a reassuring gesture. The heat of his palms blistered against my skin, but only one part of my brain registered the pain as the remainder focused on the prone form in front of me.

“Let him rest,” Caleb whispered. “I was making spaghetti.

You should come downstairs and have some dinner.”

“I can’t leave him here alone. What if he wakes and doesn’t know where he is?”

Caleb’s grip tightened. “Exactly.”

Huh?

I shrugged him off and turned to face him. He frowned at me.

“If he wakes up confused and uncertain . . .” His voice

“If he wakes up confused and uncertain . . .” His voice trailed off. “You shouldn’t be here with him alone.”

“He’s injured.”

“He’s lethal.”

I scowled at Caleb and he sighed. Then he stepped back, shaking his head at me.

“Think about it, Al. Where has he been this past month?

What has he been doing? Who did this to him?”

“I don’t know.” I sounded miserable, and I hated it, but it was true. I didn’t know why he’d up and disappeared two days after Coleman’s death, or why he hadn’t made any attempt to contact me since then. I didn’t know what had happened that he’d ended up in this condition in my front yard, or why he’d come to me at al . I just didn’t know.

“Dinner, Al. Then you can check on him.”

I nodded reluctantly. There wasn’t much I could do for Falin besides sit and fret, and I needed food. Pushing myself away from the mattress took more effort than I’d expected. My adrenaline had final y stopped rushing and the absence left me drained. Shuffling to my nightstand, I opened the tiny drawer and dug out the few healing charms I owned. I’d made them myself, and my spel casting being the dismal thing it was, they weren’t al that potent, but they couldn’t do any harm. I’d focused the spel into smal wooden disks, and I placed the three of them on Falin’s chest. There was no shortage of blood to activate them, and they hummed slightly as the spel sprang to life.

Turning, I found Caleb already at the door leading down to the main portion of the house. He didn’t comment on the charms, but held the door for me. PC had already trotted down the stairs, so with an unconscious and half-dead fae in my bed, I abandoned my apartment.

“Is someone planning to tel me what’s going on?” Holy asked as I pushed spaghetti around my plate.

I looked up, and Caleb lifted his eyebrow but said nothing I looked up, and Caleb lifted his eyebrow but said nothing as he poured himself a second glass of wine. Guess it was up to me, but how was I supposed to explain a mortal y injured man Hol y hadn’t even seen? Of course, there were plenty of invisibility spel s on the market, and Hol y knew Falin was FIB. Guessing he was fae wasn’t a far leap.

“Falin’s back,” I said, my voice flat as if it didn’t matter.

Hol y dropped her fork. “Outside?”

“He was glamoured. He’s hurt. Pretty badly. He’s unconscious upstairs.”

She looked from me to Caleb and then back. “And we’re here eating spaghetti?”

I cringed. Yeah, that’s pretty much the situation. I rol ed a meatbal from one side of my plate to the other.

“He’s fae,” Caleb said, running his finger along his wineglass. The crystal sang under his touch. “Our options were to take him to Faerie or give him time to rest and heal. The latter was more feasible.”

I could feel Hol y’s disbelieving stare on me, and I hunched a little further over my plate. I think it’s time to change the subject. That, or I was going to feel even worse about leaving Falin upstairs. Maybe I should call a healer despite what Caleb said.

I accepted the glass of wine that Caleb al but pushed under my nose, and then I looked at Hol y. “So where did you go this morning?”

“Go?” She made a soft snorting sound under her breath.

“I’ve got this crazy landlord-turned-nursemaid who’s barely permitted me to get out of bed.” She said it with affection, but there was definitely a strand of irritation mixed in. She looked at Caleb. “You know I’m going back to work tomorrow, right? I mean, I’m a little bruised and cut up, but I’m fine.”

He smiled at her but al he said was, “If you’re up to it.”

I frowned as he focused on his plate again. Hadn’t he said she’d left this morning? Maybe he’d been mistaken, but the fact that he hadn’t pushed the subject made me but the fact that he hadn’t pushed the subject made me think he’d already discussed it with her. Apparently it wasn’t any of my business. Not that I could complain about anyone else keeping secrets. I had more than enough of my own.

We finished dinner in a series of awkward silences separated by short bits of conversation. Afterward, as I headed for the stairs to my loft, I found I had a tagalong. A rather large, unhappy-looking tagalong.

“You planning on babysitting me al night?” I asked Caleb as I took the stairs two at a time.