Incendiary by Carole Cummings

Author:Carole Cummings [Cummings, Carole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

MALICK hated going to spirit. Hated it. Which was why he tried not to die when he could help it. This time had been different. This time had been… informative. He’d been Wolf’s for over a century; now he knew what that meant.

He hadn’t had to fight his way back this time—no deep meditations to keep himself a part of but separate from the spirits; no penitential offerings for transgressions he wasn’t really sorry for—this time, he’d been shown, told, taught. And then he’d been shoved on through, breaching the barriers back to mortality with none of the usual agony and exhaustion, but a high exhilaration and a wealth of strength into which he settled as easily as his mortal skin.

Just in time, it would seem.

“Yeah, it’s me, Fen,” he said and put on a grin. “Who else would tackle you on a roof?”

For some reason, it made Fen’s entire body lock up with stiff-knotted tension. Malick wanted to kiss him senseless, fuck him stupid, but he really didn’t think it looked like Fen was in the mood. Malick could swear there’d been relief, a touch of cautious happiness and maybe even some hope in Fen’s eyes a second ago. All gone now. All Malick could see now was distrust that made his teeth clench and fear that pricked at the soft places behind his breastbone he liked to pretend he didn’t have.

“Bloody hell, Fen,” he breathed, fucking love you locked behind his teeth. Need you, don’t you dare kill yourself now, not when I finally know what’s going on and how to help; it’d kill me. I don’t intend to fail, not in this. “You look terrible,” was what he ended up saying, because the rest were all things Fen wouldn’t easily hear, and anyway, Fen really did look terrible. Bleeding and cold and damp and disheveled—Fen looked like he’d been through a war. Malick sincerely hoped it wasn’t all that bad, but Fen had been tottering pretty precariously on the edge of the roof, and he’d looked awfully damned… well, Malick wasn’t quite sure. Relieved to have the end in sight, maybe, and that could be a serious problem. “What happened down in that alley, Fen? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Get off me,” Fen said calmly. Too calmly, really.

So Malick didn’t. “Fen,” he said slowly, “what the fuck are you doing on the roof?”

Because Malick had known, as soon as he’d realized what was in that dart and felt mortal life ebbing away all too quickly, he’d had no doubt that things were going to get dicey while he was unavailable. He’d even known that Fen not being here when he got back was a possibility. He had not expected, however, that he’d actually get back just in time to watch Fen try suicide for real. No wonder Malick had felt that fiery, all-consuming push to break through the barrier and pull his skin around him; no wonder he was raw all over and his nerves

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