I groaned. While his plan sounded good in theory, the last thing I wanted to do was stand up and do more walking.
Quoth tugged on my arm. “We have to go.”
My feet refused to budge. “I’m not moving. I’m going to sit here until erosion brings the bothy to me.”
“Don’t you want to see Morrie?”
“Morrie who?” I yawned. “The only thing I care about right now is never using my feet again.”
“Okay…” Quoth looked confused.
“I’m kidding. Give me a second to get up, and then we’ll get going. All I can say is, Morrie better appreciate the sacrifices we’ve made for him.” I hauled myself to my feet. “I don’t think we should take Oscar with us. Can you look after him, too?”
Heathcliff took the lead from my hands and stroked Oscar behind the ears. He leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Stay safe.”
“I aaaaaaammmm the trees,” Sam warbled. He leaped into the clearing, only his foot slipped over a log and he went down, sprawling in a heap. He twitched, muttering into the dirt.
“Sure, Sam. You’re the trees.” Quoth and I stepped over our prone instructor and headed into the forest. Quoth leaned his head against my shoulder, but I shrunk back.
“You’re not getting near me with that cockroach breath. Besides, I need you to guide me.”
I gripped the crook of Quoth’s arm – this was how I’d been taught to allow a person to guide me. His skin felt warm and reassuring beneath my fingers. In the dark, Quoth’s eyes glowed with a rim of orange light. He retained much of his bird vision in human form, so he’d do the work of navigating for the two of us. Even with the beam of his flashlight shining on the trees, I couldn’t see a thing. Each step plunged into the unknown, but with Quoth’s steady pace guiding me, I didn’t feel afraid.
Is this what it will be like when I’m blind?I imagined it to be like closing my eyes in the middle of a room – a constant and fearful disorientation. But this was different. I trusted Quoth, and so it didn’t feel scary. It was just… experiencing a world in a new way. I listened hard, discerning nocturnal creatures, the rustle of wind through the trees. Our boots crunching on dead branches. All the sounds of nature that I’d never bothered to experience before, revealed once I stripped back the layers of sight. Beautiful.
“I can see the cabin,” Quoth said after a time.
My heart leaped in my throat. I surged forward, catching my foot on a root. Quoth swept me into his arms before I face-planted in the dirt.Urgh, yup. Blindness still sucks.
“Easy.” His lips brushed mine as he set me upright again. “You won’t be able to see Morrie if you fall and break your neck.”
Blackberry bushes tore at my leggings as we pushed our way through a thick patch, stepping into a clear space. I could sense the air moving around me, the bulk of the trees not as oppressive. “We’re on a path now,” Quoth said. “It slopes up the mountain, and there are steps cut into the rock. Do you want me to carry you or—”
“No, we’ll get there. Slow and steady.” I fell behind Quoth, changing my grip and sliding my feet along the ground so I could feel the way. After a time, I removed my hands from his and used them to feel the steps as I climbed. I remembered the last time I climbed these steps with Sherlock’s gun pointed at the back of my head.
Morrie, Morrie, Morrie…
Quoth’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugging me over the final step so I could stand. The cabin stood in front of us – a gloomy, oppressive shadow. Lamps burned at the windows – fiery eyes leering at me from the gloom. Sinister as fuck, like the cover of a Norwegian black metal album.
And inside is my Napoleon of Crime.
I hope.
I banged my fist on the door. “Morrie, are you there? Open up.”
The door creaked open. My heart soared as the flickering lanterns dotted around the cabin offered me a glimpse inside. There in the doorway, his skin luminous in the moonlight, was Sherlock Holmes.
Stark fucking naked.
Chapter Fourteen
Sherlock’s fucking enormous cock waggled at me in greeting. The lamplight within the room gave me a perfect view of… everything.
“What are you doing here?” he rasped. “I’m busy.”
He moved to shut the door, but I barred it with my foot, debating whether I should give him the grab-twist-pull treatment to get him out of my face.Why is he naked?A hundred terrible thoughts whirled around in my head, but the only way I’d get answers was to get inside.
Sherlock slammed the door against my boot, but he underestimated the toughness of Docs. I wriggled my shoulders into the gap and shoved past him, swinging out my knee to catch him in the groin.
