Forever (13 page)

I could hear music playing faintly from the neighbor’s apartment. I stepped over to her door and knocked.

She answered in leggings and a Lobo football jersey, hair pinned up in a tousled mop. I smelled a hint of window cleaner. I put on my best manners.

“Sorry to bother you,” I said. “Did you happen to see who put this on my door?”

I showed her the sign. Her surprise seemed genuine.

“No,” she said. “God, who would do that?”

“OK, thanks,” I said, folding the sign in half. I started back to my place.

“Hey—“

I turned back, waiting. She took a couple of steps closer, leaving her door open.

“The police were here a couple of days ago, asking about you.”

“Yeah. I found a body on campus Wednesday.”

“That was
you?
Oh, how awful!”

“If they come around again, you can tell them I’m staying with friends. They have my phone number.”

“OK. Gee, I’m really sorry!”

“Thanks.”

I was about to turn away again, then decided some public relations work was in order. I tried to dredge up her name from when we’d first met.

“Say—Mary, right?”

“Carrie.”

“Carrie, sorry. Listen, if you don’t mind, I have a plant that needs watering. Could I bring it over for you to take care of for a while? I may be away for couple weeks.”

“Sure!”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I let myself in my place, brought the bike in, threw the sign on the floor, and fetched a neglected spider-plant from the window. It had been a gift from a guy I’d dated briefly the previous year.

I brought the plant, including the pie plate that sat underneath the pot, over to Carrie’s place and knocked. The door wasn’t latched; it creaked open a little. She came back and opened it, smiling as she reached for the plant.

“Oh, how cute! How often should I water it?”

“Twice a week. Thanks, I owe you.”

She blushed and smiled, confirming a suspicion I’d had. I gave her a polite smile as I stepped back.

“Take care.”

“You too.”

I went back to my apartment, carefully closed the door, and took off my helmet. Then I picked up the sign and methodically tore it into sixty-four pieces, which I threw in the kitchen trash. That was smelly, so I took it out to the dumpster and put a fresh bag in the can.

So Carrie hadn’t put up the sign, unless she was a really good actress. The apartment on the other side was vacant last I knew, but it was the start of the semester. Maybe an anti-gay student had moved in.

I stood in the middle of my front room, still fuming. I’d always considered this place my retreat. I was paying more for it than I probably should, but it had been a haven for me. Now it no longer felt safe.

I looked around the room, deciding whether anything there was so important I’d regret losing it. The furniture was unremarkable. I had one framed art poster that I really liked, an Amado Peña. I took that down, then realized I couldn’t carry it on the bike and hung it back up.

Breathe.

I made a conscious effort to calm down. Ran through the white-light shield and felt better.

I grabbed my bag and took it to my bedroom. The bed was still mussed from my play with Lomen. That memory gave me a hard-on; I ignored it and tidied the bed, then stuffed all my jeans and a couple more shirts in my bag. Added a sweatshirt, just in case.

I got an old backpack out of the closet and filled it with socks and the picture of my sister from my dresser. I left the one of my parents. Who knew, could have been them who put up the sign.

Finally I went to the kitchen and looked through the drawers for anything I’d regret losing. I stuffed a really good corkscrew into my pack, then remembered I had a couple of bottles of wine in a cupboard. I put these in the center of my bag, padding them with jeans, and strapped it back on the bike.

I wondered if I should leave a light on, then decided that a light that stayed on 24-7 was probably worse than no lights at all.

I was leaving my home. It hadn’t quite hit me before. I swallowed, telling myself it was temporary. Once the damn alben had been found and persuaded to move on, I could come back.

With Lomen?

That was too complicated to think about right then. I made sure all the windows were closed and latched, then wheeled out the bike and locked up.

With the added weight of my bag and the backpack, the ride up to Len and Caeran’s was slow going. I got off the bike to wait for a traffic light and walked it the next couple of blocks.

The day was heating up. Some clouds were puffing up, too—might mean more rain later.

By the time I reached the house I’d worked up a pretty good sweat. Amanda was on the couch, engrossed in her tablet. Len’s car was gone; they must have gone out on some errand. I tiptoed down the hall to Lomen’s room where I paused to listen at the door.

Come in.

Sorry, I should have shielded.

I went in and set my bag and backpack down by the dresser. Lomen was lying on the bed, eyes closed.

I cleared out two drawers for you.

Oh, thanks!

There is also room in the closet.

I didn’t bring anything fancy.

I didn’t own much that was fancy, anyway. Certainly living the way we were, I wouldn’t need to dress up, although come to think of it I should probably bring up my suit, in case there was some kind of business meeting.

I put the backpack in the closet and turned to look at Lomen. He seemed less tired—
felt
—less tired. I guessed that was his khi I was sensing.

I’m going to shower.

I’ll join you.

My groin tightened at that.

Amanda’s here—won’t she mind?

We’ll be quiet.

I stifled a chuckle, remembering how well that had worked the day before.

I kicked off my shoes, got out some clean clothes, and headed for the bathroom. Lomen stayed where he was. If he needed more rest, that was fine.

I padded down the hall to the living room. “You need the bathroom? I’d like to shower.”

Amanda shook her head without looking up. “No, thanks.”

I took possession of the bathroom and stripped down. I could smell my own stink; maybe that was why Lomen had hung back. I hopped in the shower, turned the water on hot, and lathered up.

The shower was big. There had once been a bathtub, if I judged the neighborhood right, but it had been removed and replaced with a spacious shower with stone tile on the walls and floor. A stained glass window of water lilies shed blue-green light.

I had shampoo all over and my eyes squeezed shut when I felt the air in the room change. Heard the door quietly close. Knew an instant’s panic, then recognized Lomen’s khi.

Recognized
it. Wow.

May I come in?

Please do.

By the time I rinsed the soap out of my eyes, he was already naked. He came into the shower, bringing a small, unmarked bottle which he set on the window sill.

He leaned his head back beneath the water, wetting down his hair and kindling a burn in my loins. I poured some shampoo into my hand.

Yes, please.

He looked at me and held my gaze while I slid my hands behind his neck and worked the shampoo into his hair, rubbing upward from his nape. His eyelids drooped, then closed as I massaged his scalp.

We had a good time soaping each other up, exploring and tickling and struggling not to laugh aloud. I could have continued that way for a while, but he suddenly changed course.

Rinse.

When all the soap was gone, he took down the little bottle and opened it, pouring a small amount of oil into his hand. He applied this to my chest, rubbing all the way down my torso, which made me salivate. I didn’t know what kind of oil it was but it clung instead of rinsing away, and it stayed slippery.

He shared it with me. We slathered each other with it. We were both highly aroused by then and we were touching a lot more, flesh to oily flesh, sliding, with water pouring down our limbs. When I gripped his shoulders I could feel how tight they were.

Backrub. Turn around.

He did, and leaned his arms against the wall. I got some more of the oil and started rubbing his shoulders, the tight spot between the shoulder blades, down along the spine. He gave a tiny moan, and it sent me over the edge.

I took him, hard and fast. Felt his fleeting surprise, then he yielded, leaning flat against the wall while I spent myself.

There was no “Wait,” no yearning titillation. Even as I came on like a bull, I was astonished. This was entirely unlike me.

The orgasm was blinding. I held still as it faded, breathing hard. Became aware of my thundering pulse, of Lomen plastered against the wall.

You OK?

For answer he freed himself and turned around. He kissed me hard, burning away my doubts. We traded places, then finally clung together, winding down.

The water hitting my ankles was getting cooler.

Lomen reached for a bar of soap—not the stuff I’d been using, but a rustic-looking tan-colored bar. As soon as the water hit it, I recognized the fragrance.

This was the soap Madóran had made. If I hadn’t just spent myself, the smell would have aroused me. As it was it aroused my brain, and I had to demand a long kiss.

The soap quickly dispersed the oil. We finished bathing and shut off the now-cold water, then rubbed each other down with luxurious bath sheets from the linen cupboard.

I was tired, in a good way, and still sort of stunned.

Nap.

Mm.

We dressed, then tiptoed down the hall to Lomen’s room. I risked a glance toward the living room but didn’t see Amanda.

We tossed our dirty clothes in a corner and collapsed onto the bed together.

I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually...

Shh. Doesn’t matter.

He pulled me closer and I closed my eyes. For the first time since Wednesday, we lay quietly together, and I realized this was something I’d been missing.

I woke up smelling sauteeing onions. My stomach growled.

I took a long breath and became aware I was alone in the bed. A moment’s grief, then a jumble of memories that made me catch my breath.

Shield, Steven.

I blinked, then obeyed. Shielded twice, for good measure. Sat up.

Lomen wasn’t in the room.

I rubbed my face, still waking up.

Where are you?

In the living room. Faranin and Bironan are here.

I tried to remember who they were. Ælven, from the names.

They’ve come to help us hunt.

Oh, yeah.

Pushing away that depressing thought, I got up, combed my fingers through my still-damp hair, and shuffled out to the living room. Len was talking with Lomen and two others, both doppelgangers of Caeran, though one had a pretty stern expression. They wore the loose, cotton clothing I was getting used to seeing on the ælven. I wondered if Madóran made that, too.

There was a tray with a teapot and mugs on the coffee table. Len waved me toward it and kept talking.

She was explaining Project Ebonwatch, I realized. Explaining my presence.

I poured myself some tea and sat in Amanda’s chair. Len was talking about the advantages of building a lab over using an existing building. The biggest plus seemed to be that it could be away from the city but within easy driving distance.

Cheaper in town, I thought, but Caeran always wanted to keep a low profile. Finding land, buying it, building—all these would delay things, but they could be done while we were scrambling to learn the skills we’d need for the research.

I finished my tea and reached for the pot. It was almost empty. I quietly carried it into the kitchen.

Caeran was at the stove, stirring onions and peppers in a skillet. He glanced at me, then nodded toward the counter. I put the teapot there and filled the electric kettle.

“Anything I can do to help?” I said.

“How are you at brewing tea?”

“Uh...in need of training.” They used loose tea, I knew that. I had no clue how to do it.

“Never mind. Just chop those scallions, and give me the white ends.”

I chopped them, then chopped celery, then sliced up a baguette for garlic bread. I snagged a tiny heel from the baguette, since I’d missed lunch. Really good bread.

“Where are those two going to stay?” I asked, nodding toward the living room.

Caeran shook something into the pan from a glass jar. “Either at Savhoran’s apartment, or here. Faranin said the porch is fine for him to rest on; the weather’s mild.”

“What if it rains?”

“We have an awning that folds out under the pergola.”

I thought about offering my place, but the sign on the door made me think twice. I didn’t want to ask anyone else to put up with harassment intended for me.

The kettle boiled. Caeran deputized me to stir the veggies while he set a fresh pot of tea brewing. My stomach growled at the aroma rising from the pan.

I helped Caeran until the tea was ready, then lifted the strainer-thingie out of the teapot and put it in the sink. Put the lid on the pot and carried it back to the living room.

“Steve, I’d like you to meet our friends,” Len said as I put the pot on the tray. “This is Faranin, and this is Bironan.”

Faranin was the stern-looking one. I nodded to both of them. Bironan smiled slightly.

“Steve Harrison is the newest member of the company,” Len added. “He’s going to be integral to our research efforts.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything else. Good luck hunting the alben?

I’d forgotten my mug. As soon as I could do so without being rude, I slipped back to the kitchen for it. Caeran was adding shrimp to the pan.

“This is almost ready. Could you get the dining room ready?”

“Sure. How many places?”

“Just put a stack of plates on the sideboard. We’re too many for the dining table.”

I pulled some plates out of the cupboard. “Gonna need a bigger boat.”

Caeran gave me a quizzical look, then returned his attention to the stove. I fetched out silverware and napkins—cloth; no paper in this house—and put them on the sideboard. Caeran started handing me serving dishes: salad, basket of garlic bread, casserole of rice. He brought the main dish out in a big tureen, then called everyone to help themselves.