Blaine blinked a couple of times before surging forward. Honovi let himself be drawn into a kiss, feeling his husband’s fingers curl around the gold marriage torc wrapped around his throat.
“Thank you,” Blaine said in a low, tired voice.
Honovi wished he could wipe away Blaine’s concern, wished he could take his husband home. But he knew Blaine would not leave Caris, especially not with the threat of the death-defying machine and what it could possibly do hanging over everything.
He wrapped one hand around Blaine’s wrist and tugged his husband toward the door. Honovi led Blaine back to his private rooms, where he ransacked his closet for a set of Ashion clothes. No sense in announcing his affiliation if he could avoid it.
Blaine watched him with hooded eyes as Honovi got dressed. The trousers and button-down shirt were well made, if plain, and the knee-high boots were sturdy. As Honovi shrugged into the casual jacket, Blaine pushed away from the wall and came closer. His fingers ghosted through Honovi’s long hair, catching on tangles that he gently unknotted.
“Let me tie back your hair,” Blaine murmured.
The shaved sides of Honovi’s head and the length of his black hair falling from the strip on top was a clear denotation of his nationality. Ashionens didn’t grow their hair out to the length E’ridians or Urovans did.
He stood still as Blaine found a brush and quickly ran it through the length. Honovi couldn’t remember the last time someone had braided his hair for him. He closed his eyes, relishing the way Blaine tugged at his hair, setting it to rights in a neat, three-strand braid. He finished it off with a beaded leather tie. Honovi opened his eyes and turned, hating the wistful look in Blaine’s eyes.
Blaine smiled wanly. “I miss getting to do this.”
“I miss letting you,” Honovi confessed.
Blaine leaned forward just enough to rest his forehead against Honovi’s shoulder. Honovi held him close, and they stood like that for a breath or two, before Blaine shook himself into motion. “Let’s get this over with.”
They left the bedroom and then the building by way of the garage. Honovi opted for one of the plain black motor carriages that didn’t have any E’ridian symbols painted on the doors or adhered to the registration plate. He’d made sure there was at least one vehicle present in the motor pool that couldn’t be easily traced back to the embassy.
Blaine directed him where to go, and Honovi drove three blocks over, parking behind a motor carriage that was blocking the mouth of an alley. They both got out, shutting the motor carriage doors as quietly as possible. As they approached the other one, the barrel of a pistol greeted them through the window.
“It’s me,” Blaine said, not breaking stride.
The pistol disappeared, replaced by a face Honovi didn’t recognize. “It’s about time.”
Honovi did recognize the voice from that meeting in E’ridia so long ago and the ball the other night. “Mainspring.”
Even in the shadows, he could see the grimace on her face through the open window. “Don’t call me that here.”
“Lady Lore, then.”
“Oh, that’s worse. Do be quiet.”
Blaine went around the other side of the motor carriage and opened the door. “The two of you are going with my contact. He’ll drive you back while I dispose of the motor carriage we stole. Has she woken up yet?”
“No. She hasn’t even twitched.”
Blaine let out a soft grunt, and when he came back in sight, he was carrying a slim young woman in his arms. She was limp in the way of true unconsciousness, head lolling against his shoulder. A far cry from the vibrant young lady Honovi had met at the ball.
Blaine carried her to the motor carriage they’d arrived in, depositing her in the back seat. Lore climbed out of the motor carriage on her own, limping a little. As with Blaine, she’d clearly been hurt in the bar fight but was gamely pressing on.
“Drive it into the Serpentine River if you must, but make sure no one can find it,” Lore said.
Blaine shrugged. “If I must.”
Lore got into the back seat of the motor carriage and closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. Honovi met Blaine halfway between the two vehicles, allowing himself to lean down and steal one more kiss.
“Send me a message later that you’re all right,” Honovi said.
“I don’t think we were followed. We traveled through the catacombs for half the way before coming above and stealing a motor carriage.”
“Send it anyway.”
Blaine smiled slightly before leaving with a regretful look in his eyes. Honovi let him go, because they both had made promises when they’d come to Ashion.
