Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

He couldn't do less than they had. He couldn't give up on his engine. But he wasn't going to be a fool about it either. No great wall or battalions of archers stood between him and the shadow curse. He would have to keep his work in the infirmary secret.

Briefly Kiram wondered if he should warn Scholar Donamillo about Holy Father Habalan, but he decided against it. If the scholar had not been attacked for the work he had already done, then it was unlikely that he would be. Telling him now would only make him a threat to the holy father and put him in danger.

From somewhere in the back of Kiram's mind came the thought that he hadn't heard the soft scratching of Nestor's pen in a while. Kiram glanced to Nestor and discovered that he was absorbed with reading a sheaf of papers. When he turned a sheet over Kiram caught a glimpse of violet ink and fine script. A light floral fragrance wafted off them.

"Did you get a letter?" Kiram asked.

Nestor glanced up, startled. "This afternoon. It's from Riossa"

Kiram smiled, glad for a chance to escape his own worries for a while. "How is she liking living with your mother?"

"Better than I'd expected" Nestor read Kiram brief excerpts from the letter. Riossa expounded upon the vastness of the Grunito house, the astounding number of hunting hounds, lapdogs and rat terriers in residence, and the shock of witnessing Lady Grunito run down a would-be cutpurse so that she could thrash the man. She also wrote of an outing to the Haldiim section of Anacleto. Her descriptions of perfume sellers on the Ammej Bridge and red-dyed doves nesting in garlanded almond trees gave Kiram a pang of homesickness.

"She says she wanted to send me some Kir-Zaki candies but my father ate them all." Nestor carefully folded the letter closed.

"Well, you got some from my mother in any case."

"True. But it would be different if they were from Riossa, you know."

"I know," Kiram replied. Then a motion in the doorway caught his attention and he found himself looking up just as Javier strode into the room. Javier glanced across the tall bookshelves and vacant tables as if assessing a battlefield. Only when he seemed sure that no one else looked on did he approach.

"Knew I'd find you here," Javier said.

At the sound of his voice Nestor jumped. Then he quickly regained his composure. "You were quiet as a thief coming in. What's up?"

"Bored." Javier's eyes lingered on Kiram for just a moment too long before returning to Nestor. "Thought I'd check on bear-bait here to make sure he hadn't succumbed to his wounds."

Nestor laughed and then shot Kiram an apologetic look. Just behind Nestor, Javier watched Kiram with bare longing. Kiram felt his skin flushing.

"Bear-bait is pretty done in actually," Kiram said. "I think I might sneak in a nap before dinner."

A brief, very pleased smile curved Javier's lips. "Come on then, I'll bore you to sleep with readings from Bishop Seferino's sermon to the body traders." Javier glanced to Nestor. "You?"

"I'll pass on the sermon, thanks. I get enough of those at home," Nestor responded.

"See you at dinner, then" Kiram stood, trying to appear fatigued in his motions. The pulsing excitement that rushed through him as Javier placed a hand against his back made it all the harder.

"Maybe we'll get some beef tonight," Nestor replied but his attention wasn't on Kiram or Javier. He'd already unfolded Riossa's letter again.

Kiram did his best to seem worn out as he traipsed up the stairs after Javier, but once they were in their room he was alive with energy and arousal. He slipped his fingers under Javier's supple belt and pulled him close.

"Poor Hashiem Kir-Naham, hmm?" Javier kissed Kiram with hungry force. Kiram all but ripped his shirt off. The two of them tumbled into Javier's bed, still pulling off each other's belts and kicking off their boots.

They devoured each other with hands and mouths, each driving the other towards desperate climax. Kiram's anxiety and fear dissipated as mounting ecstasy consumed his senses. After that, he lay in a state of spent satisfaction, Javier's arm draped across his chest. He nuzzled his face against Kiram's neck, whispering words so softly that Kiram could hardly hear them. Kiram felt sleep take the lingering tension from Javier's body.

Kiram drew in a deep breath, smelling their mingled sweat and sex, and then drifted. He knew that his troubles would not be so easily escaped, but for now the even rhythm of Javier's heartbeat and the warmth of his body lulled him.

During the brief winter days that followed, Kiram spent much of his free time in the infirmary, rebuilding his engine and studying Scholar Donamillo's mechanical cures. He felt safe there, surrounded by machinery, with the scholar occupied in his own studies but always a near and reassuring presence. Scholar Donamillo seemed to take a quiet interest in Kiram's activities and assisted him without needing to be asked when Kiram labored with too many parts or too much weight.

The scholar was not a talkative man but Kiram found his company soothing. From time to time when he noticed Kiram looking on with interest, he would point out a string of soldering instructions engraved in the iron ribs of the mechanical cure or expose the fine wires that made up the harness and allow Kiram to study them. One afternoon he even demonstrated the way the amber and copper plates at the base of a mechanical cure could be brushed to produce arcing white sparks. The sight delighted Kiram and reminded him of Javier's sparking, hot touch when he opened the white hell. Much to Kiram's embarrassment, a shiver of remembered pleasure tingled down the nape of his neck.

Such responses were becoming more and more common. Throughout his days Kiram felt almost haunted by previous nights of intimacy. Javier's presence suffused Kiram's consciousness, so that now even in broad daylight, thoughts of Javier's body-his touch and his taste-floated up through Kiram's mind, distracting him.

During combat practice the strong smell of sweat and fevered heat of his own body flooded him with a brief but vivid recollection of deep, musky scents and joyous friction. His face flushed and Nestor easily scored a point on him.

"Sorry." Nestor stopped short, looking startled. "I was sure you'd parry that one."

"Nope, you got past me." Kiram couldn't help but smile at Nestor. He was the only man Kiram could think of who would worry about winning a point. "You should have pressed your advantage."

"I was too surprised by the novelty of it," Nestor admitted, but then he gave Kiram a mischievous smile. "Won't be next time though. Better be on your toes."

Kiram managed to remain focused throughout the lesson but found himself stealing glances at Javier all through lunch. Catching him staring, Javier gave him an arrogant grin, which was both deeply affecting and embarrassingly knowing. Kiram felt relieved when Elezar attempted some wrestling grip and jerked Javier halfway out of his seat. By the time Javier had fought Elezar off Kiram had regained his composure enough to meet his handsome smile with a studied indifference. Even so, Javier retained a smug expression through the rest of the meal and took every opportunity to stretch and slide one of his legs against Kiram's.

Kiram loved the sensations and attention of Javier's reckless desire but he feared exposure as well. Javier's title and reputation shielded him from suspicion but Kiram possessed neither asset. So he took care never to appear too pleased with Javier's company. He hoped his frowns and annoyed glances fit the appearance of a long-suffering underclassman who endured as best he could the antics and moods of a man like Javier.

But even reminding himself to remain cautious, Kiram could not help but lean into Javier's quick embraces and smile in response to Javier's light compliments. He accepted every invitation to join Javier riding and twice joined the Hellions hunting.