“Those were professionals,” Dimri said as he pushed Roque into one of the chairs in the kitchen.His white eyes were grim as he reached for the first-aid kit Roque had noticed the last time he was here.“Someone wanted us dead badly enough to hire the best.”
“Ramiel.”
“Has to be.He doesn’t want us to find his spy.”Dimri’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the deep cut on Roque’s arm.“That means the spy knows what we’re doing.We have to be close.”
Roque winced at the burn in his wound.“You saved our lives.”
“My paranoid over-preparation, you mean?”There was no mockery in Dimri’s voice, just exhaustion.Roque deserved to be mocked, though.
“Yeah,” Roque said quietly.“That.”
He was once again grateful for Dimri’s planning.Without the spymaster’s knowledge of the city, they’d both be dead in that alley.
Maybe Roque would help him plan next time.
* * * *
DIMRI WAS SO FOCUSEDon helping Roque that he didn’t notice he was wounded, too, until the adrenaline finally left him.They were safe, and Roque had been taken care of.Dimri could finally relax, but that was when the pain hit.
He groaned and leaned away from Roque, who frowned.
“What’s going on?Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“That didn’t sound like you were fine.Look, you helped me.Let me help you, too.”
Dimri wanted to say yes, but he was afraid of having Roque’s hands on him.He didn’t know how he would react.He suspected that since he was in pain, he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, but he couldn’t be sure.What he felt for Roque scared him, and he wanted to keep it at bay as much as he could.Allowing Roque to take care of him probably wouldn’t help with that.
Roque got up from the chair he’d slumped into and gently pushed Dimri into it.Dimri went because what choice did he have?He suspected that Roque would tie him down if he didn’t obey, and while that was something he might want to explore in the bedroom, he’d rather do it when they weren’t both in pain.
“Okay, where does it hurt?”Roque asked as he looked down at Dimri.
“I think it’s more where itdoesn’thurt.”
“You know what I mean.Are you bleeding?”
Dimri always wore black clothes, so it was easy to miss the blood.He gestured at his shoulder, not surprised when Roque instantly reached for it.He pulled at the fabric, making Dimri wince.“Yeah, there’s a cut here,” Roque said.“They got you good, but you should be fine.”
“Good.I can’t affordnotto be.”
“I won’t be able to convince you to get some rest, will I?”
“Will I be able to convinceyouto get some rest?”
“Not until the war is over.”
“There’s your answer.”
Roque grabbed the scissors and went to work.It hurt, which meant that Dimri wasn’t in the mood to chat as Roque took care of him.It was probably for the best.He wouldn’t have known what to say, and this gave him the opportunity to watch Roque.
He was surprisingly tender as he took care of Dimri.Dimri had half expected him to slap a bandage on his shoulder and call it a day, but instead, Roque cut off the sleeve of Dimri’s shirt, poked at the wound a few times, then cleaned it as gently as he could.It looked like he was afraid to hurt Dimri, which was cute.
“Did you see who did this to you?”Roque asked, his gaze still on Dimri’s wound.
“What, you’re going to kick their ass?”
“I just might.I hate that you’re hurt.”
