Page 62 of Kill Me Again: Psychics

Chapter Twenty-three

Baxter

Calisto’s obvious surprise when he operated the camera and found me standing outside Asher’s security gate only made me feel more guilty. He pressed the button to admit me, and by the time I reached the house, he was already waiting on the doorstep. He swept me into a hug tight enough to crack ribs, somehow combining it with manhandling me inside and slamming the door, as if he thought I might bolt if he didn’t employ underhand tactics.

When Calisto finally released me, he didn’t let go completely. His hands remained on my shoulders as he studied my face, as if there was going to be an exam later, full of very tricky questions.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m…” I stopped myself from trotting out the same tired platitude. If I did that, all the work I’d done with Lake on facing up to things would have been for nothing. “I haven’t been okay for a long time,” I admitted. “Since I came back, really. But I’m working on it, and I think I’m making progress.”

Calisto grimaced. “Since I dragged you back, you mean.”

“Yeah. Naked.” I never turned down the opportunity to remind Calisto that his unplanned actions months ago had left me wandering the Yorkshire moors without a stitch of clothing on. As resurrections went, it had been a baptism by fire.

“Have you had breakfast?”

His question made me realize I hadn’t. Leaving Lake’s house to give him and his sister some privacy hadn’t allowed time to eat first. I suppose I could have grabbed something during the awkward half hour when Verity waited for her brother but wouldn’t let me wake him, leaving us at a stalemate—but I didn’t want to risk being accused of stealing Lake’s food.

It had been painfully obvious, even without reading her mind, that Verity hadn’t been pleased to make my acquaintance, and that she’d known nothing of my existence. Which was both slightly irksome and completely understandable.

I followed Calisto into Asher’s extremely shiny and very well-equipped kitchen. The first time I’d set foot in here, I’d been dead. The last time had been during my stay here. Since then, small aspects of Calisto’s personality had inserted themselves into the previously austere space: a tea towel with a bear on the front; mugs with actual pictures on that weren’t all of uniform color and size; and bright red cushions on the stools around the breakfast bar.

I slid onto one as Calisto set to work on breakfast. He had his back to me, which made things easier. “I’ve been really worried about you,” he said.

“I know.”

He paused while cracking eggs in a bowl. “Then why didn’t you…?” He caught himself. “No. I’m not going to do that. I promised myself I wouldn’t harangue you.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” And that was the truth. Right here, right now, it was hard to work out why Calisto had taken on the role of a truth-seeking machine in my head—especially when he knew me like no one else did. “I’ve been having some problems,” I admitted.

“Uh-huh…” A slight tension crept into his shoulders, but he didn’t turn around.

“Nightmares. Flashbacks. PTSD stuff.”

“Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of self-realization.”

“Not really. I kind of owe that to Lake.”

Calisto spun around, curiosity written all over his face. “Lake? Who’s Lake?”

“Lake is…” I didn’t fight the smile that wanted out. “I suppose you could call him my boyfriend.” We hadn’t talked about it explicitly, but given the things we had talked about, I didn’t think he’d have a problem with the label. In fact, I suspected it would bring the faint flush I’d already grown to love to his cheeks, along with a smile. I was so busy thinking about Lake that I missed the first few seconds of Calisto staring at me like I’d grown a second head. “What?” I muttered defensively.

He shook his head, something close to wonder in his expression. “The last thing I knew you were―”

“Whoring myself around,” I finished for him.

Calisto pulled a face. “I wasn’t going to put it quite like that.”

“But you were thinking it.”

He had no defense for that and returned to making scrambled eggs and slicing bread for the toaster. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

“So am I.”