“Oh, Trace. You’re lining them up for me now, love.” His expression was feral, fangs glinting in the moonlight. “We can work it open until it’s whatever size you think will allow that large, erectwoodto slide in tightly.”
“Christ, you two.” James’ voice carried low and amused across the garden. “Give it a rest. If you could maybe stop eyefucking each other for a while, we might get these trees planted before dawn.”
Marlowe attempted to turn a laugh into a cough. “I can bring another one through now if you’re ready.”
We worked steadily, one tree after another, until the last one wobbled its way across the expanse of mud from the garage under Marlowe’s muttered guidance, and sank carefully into the bed of compost with what sounded like a sigh of relief. It was echoed by all of us.
I leaned my spade against the nearest trunk and inhaled then exhaled slowly as I took a look around. Unrecognisable from the plain expanse of lawn it had been on my first visit, it had finally taken on the look of a mature garden. Some of the areas still needed to be planted with crops I’d delayed even thinking about once I’d known I’d be moving, but with a little magical coercion, I could overcome most of the delays. My fruit trees were what I’d been most worried about, but Marlowe evidently had some seriously green thumbs as part of his abilities. Although it was too soon to be sure, none of them looked as though I’d wake up tomorrow to find their leaves strewn on the ground and my hoped-for harvest a non-starter.
I found him watching me, presumably hoping I was happy.
“I can’t thank you enough,” I said. “This is, well, it’s amazing. If I can ever do anything to repay you?—”
“I know where to find you.” He seemed uncomfortable being thanked, but cheered up when I offered him the use of my bathroom to clean up. He wasn’t as messy as the rest of us, but he wasn’t exactly fragrant either. He grabbed a bag from the lorry, then I led him inside, showed him the bathroom, and left him to it.
I found Edwin and James sitting side by side on the steps by their front door. They made to stand as I approached, but I shook my head.
“I’m not staying long. I just wanted to thank you for all your help, again.” I rubbed my nose which was itchy, aware I’d probably added yet more dirt to my face. “I’m next in line for the shower. I have dirt in places it has no right being.”
James chuckled. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t realise how two days’ light rain could turn a small field into a mud bath. Right, Eddie?” He flicked his gaze towards Edwin with an accompanying nudge of his elbow.
Edwin turned his head slightly but barely looked at him, his blue eyes suddenly flat and distant. “That’s really not a mud bath.” He acknowledged me with a terse nod. “Please excuse me, I’m going to take the first shower.” He got to his feet in the instantaneous, fluid manner of vampires everywhere and, kicking off his boots at the door, disappeared swiftly inside.
“What did we say?” I stared at James, baffled by Edwin’s demeanour. “Is he really upset about all the trees arriving?” I felt like sayingIt’s a bit bloody late to be bothered now,but I didn’t want to make this about me if he was having trouble dealing with the changes.
James patted the step. “Sit down? I can hear you better if you’re closer.”
I wasn’t sure that was a valid reason when he seemed to be hearing me fine, but I wasn’t passing up the chance when he’d offered. Keeping my body angled towards him, I asked again, “What do you think’s upset Eddie?”
James’ expression was glum. “I don’t know. But I can guess.”
“Go on.”
“It is only a guess. It might have been my use of the words ‘mud bath’. He’s quite touchy about the war.” I must have looked surprised because he continued, “World War One. I’ve been doing some reading up about it. He fought in the trenches. From what I can tell, it was a literal hell on Earth. There’s a lot of accounts of folks saying their fathers, uncles, and grandfathersnever spoke about it, like, not once, when they got home. They saw stuff they could never unsee.” He shuddered. “Can you imagine trying to fire a gun or keep watch in the pissing rain and cold when you’re hungry and homesick, withratsrunning about? Fuck, I’m not squeamish or even that bothered they exist, but I don’t want to shack up with them. And that’s before seeing your mate get his arm or leg or half his head blown off. Or the constant booming of the guns.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” I offered weakly. “I imagine a lot of what we think of as throwaway words might bring up memories a veteran would rather forget.”
“He tries to bury stuff, I know he does,” James said, his eyebrows a tight furrow. “Even good stuff. I think that’s why he spent so long dancing and drinking and fucking anything that moved, as a way of blocking out the bad shit.” He dropped his head into his hands, his next words muffled. “I’m worried that being…settled, like this, with me and you, means he’s got more time to think. Perhaps it’s eating him up. Maybe I’m not good for him.” His voice was small and sad.
Goddess.I felt small myself as I sat beside James, my mind reeling. How had I not considered this aspect of Edwin’s life before now? I knew how old he was, when he’d been born, and that he’d served in the army. It was part of his Council file notes, half a dozen lines that other Council members were given as a courtesy to learn a little about their fellow members. But somehow, seeing it in black and white meant very little compared to James’ anguished explanation of what he had researched. It made sense too. What I knew of Edwin as a person before he’d opened his home to me had boiled down to facts: excellent tracker, even better forger, handsome blond party boy who loathed bagged blood and never fucked the same man twice. That wasn’twhohe was though.
I chanced a hand on James’ shoulder. He raised his head. “You might be right about a lot of things,” I began. “But please don’t ever think you’re not good for him. Maybe he needs to confront his memories, try to deal with the worst of them, but you’re a fantastic influence for the better. He’s in love with you, James. You make him smile. You’ve showed him he can sustain a prolonged relationship with someone other than Baxter, who although I think is amazing, possibly enables some of his unhealthier behaviour.”
“But we don’t even fuck!” He blushed hotly. “It’s not like we’re boyfriends or anything.” There was a distinct yearning tone to his last statement.
“Not boyfriends?” I argued. “What else would you call it? Besides,” more gently, because I could tell it embarrassed him, “you don’t have to be sticking a penis in a hole, or even have a sexual relationship at all. You aredefinitelyboyfriends.”
He surprised me by choking out a laugh, even though his face was still ablaze. “This is why you’re good for Eddie. You’re blunt like him.” He sighed again. “And you fuck him. He definitely likes that part.”
“He does,” I agreed, “but I hope that’s not the only reason he likes me.” I could feel a whine creeping in, so I shut it down quickly. “You know, even if it is, I’ll take it. I can’t quite believe I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with two such lovely men recently. Finding a new place to live has been wonderful. A relationship, even a fuck buddy one, on top of that, is riches I’m not sure I deserve.”You definitely don’t.
James shot me a puzzled frown. “I’m not sure you have todeservea relationship, Trace. But I don’t think Eddie only likes you for your…cock.” He stumbled over the word, but managed to keep going. “He likes you. You know, for you.” He swallowed. “Like, I, uh, what I mean is…”
“It’s okay.” I cut across his stutters in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. “Where I’m concerned, your feelings, whatever they are right now, are a work in progress. Am I correct?”
He nodded violently, his face puce with embarrassment. “Sorry. I’m such a dork at this stuff.”
To give him a moment to collect himself, I stared at the sun blinking through the trees across the road. “You’re not nearly as much of a dork as you might think.” He scoffed. “No, seriously. You’re honest, and to my knowledge, somewhat later than some in discovering who you are. There’s no shame in either of those things. Would I care if you’d slept with every man who’d so much as bought you a drink? No, I wouldn’t, because I believe in enjoying all the pleasures of the flesh if the mood strikes and no one gets hurt. But I tell you this, James. There’s something rather magical about seeing someone with limited sexual experience admit their desires and learn how to act on them. It’s incredibly flattering you’ve felt safe enough to allow me to participate, even peripherally. I know you probably think you’re moving at a glacial pace, but your honesty is one of the things I admire most about you.”
