Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(50)

Falin let out a long breath and leaned against the wal , as if standing straight for so long had taxed him. “It’s complicated.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that tonight. I opened my mouth to ask for a clarification, but Caleb brushed past my mouth to ask for a clarification, but Caleb brushed past me.

“Don’t waste your breath, Al,” he said, and grabbed the mal et from where he’d dropped it earlier. “I’l be in my workshop if you need me.” Then he stormed into the garage. A trickle of magic sparked through the air as he activated his circle, and he said, “Oh, and Al, be careful what you say to her majesty’s bloody hands.”





Chapter 15


“What did he mean, ‘her majesty’s bloody hands’?”I asked once we were back in my apartment.

Falin didn’t answer, but stepped around me as he headed for the bathroom. He’d taken the steps slow, his hand moving to his side when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Somewhere along the way, his blazer vanished, and by the time he reached the bathroom door, glamour no longer cloaked his ragged and bloodstained clothing.

I leaned against the wal beside the door. A door he hadn’t closed. “Are you here doing your queen’s bidding?”

Again he didn’t answer. I pushed away from the wal and peeked around the open door. Falin stood with both hands braced on the sink’s counter, his head hanging heavy below his hunched shoulders. He looked up as I slipped inside and gave me a smal , tight smile that didn’t match the wince around his eyes.

“Joining me in the bathroom? This is a new level of intimacy for us.”

I didn’t take his bait. “Let me see it.”

“Mmm, and what is it you want to see?”

I frowned at him. “Stop playing around and let me see your side.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he said, but it clearly cost him to push away from the counter and stand up straight.

“Let me see, or I’m going to dope you with a knockout charm and drag you to a healer.” It was an empty threat and he knew it, but he stil moved to unbutton his shirt.

“Fine, fine.” He shrugged out of the shirt, the movement

“Fine, fine.” He shrugged out of the shirt, the movement stiff.

While I’d been occupied downstairs he’d done a nice job of dressing the wound. I hated to disturb the careful y taped gauze, but blood had seeped through in several places, so it needed to be changed anyway.

I shuddered once I’d exposed the wound. “Shouldn’t you see a healer?”

“I’ve healed worse. It’s dawn and the magic is weak right now. Give me twenty minutes and I’l be much better,” he said, reaching for the sealed sterile gauze pads on the counter. They must have been from Hol y’s first-aid kit because they had official OMIH stamps on the top and I didn’t own charmed bandages.

I helped him dress his side again, and as I worked I had to admit he was healing. The edges of the wound were pink, and new skin had knitted across the long laceration in several places. If he could avoid reopening the wound, he would probably heal in a matter of days. Once the gauze was taped securely in place, I stood. “How’s the head?”

“Healed,” he said, and smiled at my disbelieving look before tilting his head forward so I could look. “Head wounds bleed a lot, but that one wasn’t deep.”

I scanned the part of his scalp I could see and then laced my fingers in his hair, letting my fingers read the truth of his healed scalp even if my eyes couldn’t see it. Without his glamour, Falin’s hair was closer to white than blond and, like his skin, seemed to give off its own light. I ran my hands through those soft locks, fol owing one that fel over his etched cheekbone and cascaded down his chin to his throat.

His gaze snagged mine. There might have stil been pain somewhere in those blue eyes, but more than anything there was heat. He watched me look at him and his lips parted, his pupils dilating. Only then did I consider the fact that I’d just had my hands on his sculpted abs and chest while examining his wound, then in his hair, and now . . .

while examining his wound, then in his hair, and now . . .

Heat rushed to my face. While I’d been focused on his wounds everything had been so clinical, but now I was acutely aware that we were in my smal bathroom, standing very close, and he was only half dressed.

He was also injured. And taken.

“I’l just—” I pointed over my shoulder as I backed away.

“Wait.” He flashed me a smile. Dawn had come and gone, and there must have been something to what he’d said because he moved easier as he crouched and opened the cabinets under the sink. “Have you seen my toothbrush?”

I cringed. “I told you to get it out of my bathroom.” “You threw it out?”

God, I wished I had. But I hadn’t. Not that I planned to tel him that. And what was with the hurt eyes? What would it matter if I had tossed the toothbrush?

I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin, which earned the exact opposite response from what I’d expected—a lopsided grin claimed his face.

“You’re mad at me again. I told you, I’m on to you, Alexis.

You wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t care.” He waggled a gloved finger at me and returned to rooting around under my sink. “So where did you hide my toothbrush?”