Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(35)

Jarrett was warmth.

They talked until they ran out of words and the lamps ran out of fuel. It had to have been a few hours. And there, in the darkness, they stayed, Jarrett’s hand on Tenn’s hip, Tenn’s head on Jarrett’s chest. Tenn listened to the rise and fall of Jarrett’s breathing, though he wasn’t asleep. It was nice, though, to have a moment of quiet. To just exist. It felt like the way life used to be. The way life could have been.

Tenn’s pulse began to race. They were alone in the dark, and he was realizing he wanted more than anything else to reach up and kiss Jarrett, to lean against him fully, to see how their bodies matched. It wasn’t just lust, though, making his blood sing. It was something else. Something that tugged from his chest. Something that wanted to connect on a deeper level.

He hadn’t wanted that since Silveron.

Jarrett clearly felt it, too. He shifted his body slightly, curling in toward Tenn. He wrapped his other arm around Tenn’s back. He nuzzled his scruffy chin against Tenn’s forehead.

“I didn’t think I would ever feel this again,” Jarrett whispered.

“Neither did I,” Tenn replied.

Then Jarrett kissed the top of Tenn’s forehead.

“I want this to last forever,” he said. “But it’s getting late. I need to go check in on a few things before we go.”

It ached, that statement. Tenn hugged him closer.

“This is dangerous,” Tenn said.

“I know,” Jarrett replied. “And I don’t care.”

Another kiss on the top of the head. Then he slowly unwound himself from Tenn’s limbs. Every movement was slow. Every movement was agony.

This was why there was no room for love in this world. Loving always meant leaving. And leaving meant potentially never coming back.

Jarrett opened to Air, and Tenn didn’t have to ask to know it was so Jarrett could sense his way around the room. Tenn opened to Earth so he could do the same, the whole place opening out to his senses like sonar. He couldn’t see the room, any more than he could without Earth, but he could feel it. Much like he could feel his toes or fingers in the dark, the walls were simply a part of him.

“I probably won’t have time to meet up again,” Jarrett said as he walked to the door. “Even though I’d like to. Feel free to take a nap in here if you want—I doubt the twins would mind. Or, I don’t know, explore what’s left of the city.”

The thought of exploring both excited and scared Tenn—there was no way in hell he could fall asleep after cuddling with Jarrett. His nerves were on fire, and besides, he didn’t want to sleep through their escape. In a way, he almost didn’t want to see the truths of Outer Chicago. He preferred his fantasy of the place, where everything was clean and happy and possible. He preferred thinking the two of them could have a future here. Or somewhere better than here. The reality outside these walls wasn’t one he wanted to face.

Jarrett paused in the doorway, like he wanted to say something more.

“Midnight, then,” he said finally. He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to start a mission before.”

Tenn laughed, as well. It was short-lived. Now that Jarrett was about to leave, he was reminded of everything he was about to do, and everything he didn’t yet know.

“Midnight,” Tenn said.

He felt Jarrett move, and then he was close again, wrapping Tenn in a quick hug.

“I’m glad I found you,” Jarrett whispered in his ear. He kissed Tenn’s cheek and left.

*

Tenn lasted about five minutes in the room before anxiety got the better of him. He kept waiting for Tomás to appear, to threaten him again. Tenn had been so, so close to telling Jarrett about the Kin. Then he’d remembered the sound of Katherine’s neck snapping, and the desire snapped with it. Now, without Jarrett there to keep the thoughts and demons—figuratively and potentially literally—at bay, his imagination was getting the better of him.

He kept open to Earth as he walked, using the element to map out the guild in his head. The place was a lot smaller than he imagined—just the gym and maybe a block or two of underground tunnels and rooms. The stories had made this place out to be a bastion of hope, the crowning gem of the resistance. This was where dreams were remade, where humanity held on and thrived.

The truth was pretty damn depressing.

He managed to walk past the kitchens and grabbed some bread and cheese and a carrot, scarfing them down while making his way outside. He felt naked without having a weapon in his hand as he left the building. But he was safe in here.

Tomás’s face flickered through his mind.

Maybe safe was a relative term.

The night was calm and clear, the sky scattered with stars and a gibbous moon. He half expected one of the guards to call out, demanding to know where he was going at this time of night, but no one stopped him as he walked down the street. No one seemed to be out. The town was eerily quiet.

Moonlight glinted off puddles covering the cracked streets, litter fluttering against chain-link fences like tiny ghosts. Although debris was everywhere, the place smelled a little better. The rain must have washed away the decay that seemed to linger here, the stench of a thousand humans slowly decomposing as they fought to stay alive. His foot hit something, and his heart stopped as a can skittered across the street. So much for being inconspicuous.