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“Yes, you answered my song.” Syrus bit back a smug smile. “That much is true.”

Luke turned from the window to examine Syrus’s face. “And you like that,” he said after a moment. “That I answered your song. It…means something to you.”

“Yes. I like it very much.” It no longer seemed acceptable that they weren’t touching in some more substantial way. Syrus grabbed Luke’s hand and held it tight. “In my greatest need, I called for someone…very specific to help me. Someone I could trust. And you came for me.”

Syrus brought Luke’s hand to his face and nuzzled his palm. “Luke,” he coaxed. “Won’t you show me more of your town?”

Because Luke might be nearing some sort of understanding of what mattered to Syrus, but Syrus already knew what mattered to Luke. This town was his territory, his safe space, the place where he’d chosen to raise his young to maturity. Syrus wanted to come to know and understand it as much as Luke himself.

Luke didn’t answer at first, only continued to eye Syrus speculatively. But he didn’t pull his hand back from Syrus’s touch or seem to begrudge him his nuzzling.

Syrus waited patiently, and eventually Luke gave a rueful smile. “Well, I guess if you’ve met the local undead already, I might as well introduce you to my sister.” He cocked his head. “How do you feel about crystals?”

Syrus hadn’t had any opinions on crystals when Luke had asked, but it only took him a moment to decide he adored Luke’s sister’s store.

After the dreariness of the tank, the murk of the sea shallows, and the unforgiving white of Luke’s bathroom, here was color. Sparkle, even.

Following the delight of the doorway itself—painted a bright pink, how wonderful—they were greeted by shelves and shelves of jagged, twinkling stones. Nothing garish or false, but a glittering array from the depths of the earth that caught the eye effortlessly. Syrus swiveled his head as he took it all in. They weren’t all crystals, it seemed. There were bins of smooth oval stones as well, and a wall of candles of different sizes and colors.

Syrus steered clear of those, wrinkling his nose at the artificial scents. A rack of brightly colored fabric toward the back of the store caught his attention, but before he could drag Luke in that direction, a tall dark-haired woman swept out from behind the counter and intercepted them.

“Luke!” she cried. “Twice in two days. Are you dying and too afraid to tell me?”

Syrus ignored the twinge of panicked rage at the thought of Luke secretly dying and studied the sister. Her dark hair was longer than Luke’s, and her eyes brown rather than Luke’s mossy green. They were indoors, so Syrus couldn’t tell if hers caught the sunlight in the same lovely way Luke’s did. But still, there was a similarity to their features, a certain resemblance to the way they held themselves.

The clothes were where they really differed. Luke favored his earthy, muted tones, and though they might not have been to Syrus’s particular tastes, the colors suited Luke’s dark features and grounded nature. But his sister…

She wore a long, flowing multicolored skirt, a figure-hugging top, and a bright-aquamarine cardigan covering it all, reaching almost as far down as the skirt. She’d adorned herself with dangling ear bobbles, multiple necklaces, and a plentiful number of rings.

Syrus could only approve.

Luke’s sister noticed his scrutiny. “Ah.” She squared herself in Syrus’s direction. “The axe murderer?”

Syrus cocked his head. He didn’t understand the question, but her gaze wasn’t unfriendly. More…assessing, with an edge to her expression that suggested she knew he was something more to Luke than a stranger or passing acquaintance.

Syrus gave her his best smile. “Hello, there,” he purred.

The sister blinked at him, then turned to Luke. “Well, this all makes perfect sense now.”

Luke held a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, a pained expression on his face. “Shauna…”

All Syrus’s hard work and here Luke was stressed again. Maybe Syrus should have taken more time with him in the car. Maybe he should have listened to his instincts and ignored the small, contained space to rut against Luke until they’d both found release. Surely Luke would be feeling much more relaxed with a second orgasm to soothe his nerves.

Shauna widened her eyes at her brother in faux innocence. “What did I say?”

Luke only shook his head, but he lowered his hand from his face. “Syrus is going to be staying a while,” he said stiffly. “Thought you might as well meet.”

An unmistakably gleeful look entered Shauna’s eyes, but she hid it with false surprise as she turned to Syrus. “Are you? Well, welcome to Pine Bluff.”

Syrus inclined his head. “Thank you, Shauna.”

Shauna dug into the pocket of her cardigan, which was deeper than Syrus might have guessed, and eventually pulled out a smooth black stone. She offered it to Syrus. “Black obsidian. Helps with grounding and protection and clearing…past negativity.”

Syrus had a feeling the rock did nothing more than add weight to one’s garments, but he accepted it with a smile and tucked it into the pocket of Luke’s undersized sweatpants.

The gesture had Shauna taking notice of the clothes Syrus was wearing. Her gaze slid up and down his form, perhaps registering the ill fit, before she cocked a brow at Luke, then began digging in her pocket again.

Luke held both hands in front of his face as if to ward her off. “Uh-uh.”