Page 32 of Something Worth Keeping
“Especially after.” Julian interrupted. “You showed me your true form. You demonstrated your capabilities. You protected me at significant personal cost - I imagine cleanup will take considerable effort. And you’re asking my permission instead of simply taking me. All of those factors support my decision.”
Cillian pulled him close again, shadows and arms wrapping around Julian until he was cocooned. “You’re extraordinary.”
“I’m practical.” But Julian let himself lean into the embrace. His heart rate was finally decreasing. The adrenaline was metabolizing. He was safe. Cillian had made sure of it. “Thank you for coming.”
“Always.” Cillian’s voice was fierce. “I will always come when you call.”
“Good.” Julian pulled back enough to look around the alley again. “Now, about this mess. Do you have a cleanup protocol, or do we need to pop into a local store and buy some mops and buckets?”
Cillian laughed - actual laughter, bright with relief. “I’ll handle it. But first, I’m getting you out of here. The shadows can hide this mess until I get back.”
“My apartment…”
“We’ll go now. Pack quickly. I’m not leaving you alone for a second.” Cillian’s shadows lifted Julian off the ground. “And Julian?”
“Yes?”
“When this is over, when Vane is eliminated, and you’re safe, we’re going to have a very longconversation about appropriate danger responses.”
Julian raised his eyebrows. “You mean the conversation where I explain that running from the person actively protecting me would be statistically nonsensical?”
“I mean the conversation where I explain that watching you nearly get killed took approximately fifteen years off my existence.”
“You’re immortal.”
“Irrelevant.” Cillian pulled him through the shadows, moving them both out of the alley in a disorienting rush of darkness. They materialized on Julian’s street. “You’re mine to protect. That means I get to be irrationally terrified when someone threatens you.”
Julian considered this. “That seems fair. But I reserve the right to be irrationally calm in response.”
“Deal.”
They walked into Julian’s building together, Cillian’s shadows clearing away the worst of the blood as they moved. Julian’s mind was already cataloging what he’d need to pack, running threat assessments, calculating variables.
But underneath all of that, one thought kept circling back:
Cillian came when he called.
Everything else was just data…except… “I know you don’t eat, but you guys have coffee, don’t you? Only I haven’t had any this morning, and I seriously think that should be a priority right now.”
Chapter Twelve
Cillian materialized with Julian on the rooftop of Shadow House, his form still half-feral from the violence in the alley. Shadows churned beneath his skin, demanding he return to finish what remained of the attackers, to tear Marcus Vane apart piece by piece until nothing remained but scraps of flesh.
Julian’s hand pressed against his chest. “You’re vibrating.”
“I’m…” Cillian forced himself to breathe, to condense the rage back into something resembling human. “I’ve got a handle on it.”
“You’re doing a terrible job.” Julian’s clinical assessment shouldn’t have helped, but it did. “Your eyes are completely black. No iris differentiation at all. And your shadows keep manifesting as what I’m fairly certain are teeth.”
Cillian looked down. Dozens of shadow-tendrils had indeed sprouted tooth-lined mouths, snapping at the empty air. “Apologies.”
“Don’t apologize. Just breathe.” Julian’s fingers traced the line of Cillian’s jaw. “We’re safe. I’m safe. Vane’s men are dead. You protected me. Now you need to recalibrate.”
The touch anchored him, and Cillian longed to lean into it more. But the roof of an abandoned warehouse wasn’t an ideal setting. He pulled the shadows back, wrestling them into submission, although he understood their reluctance. The teeth retracted, though, and his eyes shifted to the charcoal grey he preferred around his mate. Another breath, and his skin stopped absorbing light quite so aggressively.
“Better,” Julian observed. “Now, you mentioned coffee?”
“Right. Yes. Coffee.” Cillian still felt unsteady, torn between the urge to wrap Julian in shadows and never let him interact with the world again, and the knowledge that Julian would find that deeply impractical. “The entrance is here.”
