“I like the company.”
“You think you’re charming, don’t you?” Wesley said wryly. “Save that talk for the Lorettas and Matildas of the world; it will never work on a prick like me.”
“Oh yes, such a prick,” Sebastian said. “Bringing me up on the rooftop you said you’d never come to.”
“You can save your smug impudence for someone else too; we’re up here for a reason.”
“The pretty view?” Sebastian said, pointing to the glittering of the Manhattan skyline against the cloudy dark gray of the night.
“Of course not thepretty view, I will never be a fucking tourist,” Wesley said, although his eyes stole to the skyscrapers around them. “We’re up here so you can let go of your magic.”
“What?”
Wesley gestured at the brick wall, which had a series of planters running its length. “I’m going to go have a seat over there—because yes, you’ve brought complete lunacy into my life but I’m not yet mad enough to stand at the edge of a roof while you use your magic—and then you can let go.”
“But—”
“I don’t have a speck of my own and I can see it’s riding you into the ground,” Wesley said. “You need a break. The others have all fucked off to Tarrytown, so we can’t ask them for their advice, which means you’re stuck with my ideas.”
“I need to learn to control it—”
“And you will.” Wesley took a step back, toward the wall. “You’re the one who keeps telling me that I’m doing well with the smokes. This is me offering to take a cigarette from your hand. I brought you up here where it’s just us and the skyscrapers. Let the wild horses you always talk about run free for a moment; maybe it will help them settle.”
Sebastian bit his lip. “Then you go downstairs.”
“No.”
“Wes—”
“I didn’t bring you up here to shove you outside and leave you alone,” Wesley said pointedly.
“But the last time I let all of my magic go, I killed the Earl of Blanshard.”
“And I got nothing more dangerous than a kip outside the Grand Palais.” Wesley gestured at the night around them. “What do you think my life was like before I met you? Do you imagine I ever stood in the rain at the top of Manhattan with literal magic still in my aura? This is not a hardship for me, Sebastian. You’re—it’s—an adventure.”
Oh.
Wesley looked a little wide-eyed, like he hadn’t meant to say all of that. He added, quick and gruff, “I’m truly not afraid of your magic, you know. Your lion would never kill me. I’m his favorite.”
Sebastian broke into a bigger smile. “Loco,” he said, with exasperated affection, as he slid the coat off his shoulders and held it out to Wesley. “If you’re staying, lie on my coat.”
“I don’t need it, I’m just going to sit against the wall—”
“Wesley,” Sebastian said patiently, as rain fell on his flat cap and shoulders. “This time, you’re going to need to lie down.”
Oh, Wesley’s mouth formed. He grudgingly accepted the coat. “Are you going to be insufferably smug if I admit that’s a bit sexy?”
Sebastian bit back another smile. His stomach was fluttering with nerves, but Wesley always made him feel better.
Wesley found a spot farther away that was mostly dry and settled on top of Sebastian’s coat along the wall. Sebastian could feel Wesley’s gaze on him as he put his hands on the edge of the railing. He could feel his magic, like his blood was vibrating, like the brooch had the horses’ reins in a tight grip and was yanking them the wrong way. He closed his eyes, and then he let the stampede go.
His magic swept the rooftop. He distantly heard Wesley hit the roof—he hadn’t lain all the way down, because of course he hadn’t—as his aura was swept under Sebastian’s magic like a sunbather caught unaware by the incoming tide. He tried best he could to keep that sense of Wesley, to make sure it was only temporarily weakened, not hurt, as he let the horses spread out as far as they wanted.
It was like exhaling after holding your breath, a relief so intense that it left his limbs tingling. For that moment, he let it go, let it spread out over Manhattan’s rooftops under the clouded night sky.
When the rush had left, and he was light-headed and dizzy, he finally pulled the magic back in. He gripped the railing as it settled into his body, like it was bonding itself to his bones, his blood.
He took two hard breaths, and then he hurried over to Wesley, who was still lying on Sebastian’s coat on the rooftop. “Wes,” he said, kneeling at Wesley’s side. He was damp from the rain and a little shivery, but he ignored it to help Wesley sit up, propping him against the wall. “Wesley, are you all right?”
