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fingers
linked together. They worked his dick as he had asked—together—and
much too quickly Blake yielded to pleasure, his body arching, his
eyes closed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he silenced
a cry.
    As he caught Kate’s eyes,
Marc wondered if this was anything like what she had had in mind
when she had asked for them to be closer again. He also wondered
how much time would pass before Blake was ready to try again—or to
move further still.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8

     
     
    Kate had great expectations
for the night after Blake’s first breakthrough.
    She tried not to hope too
much, to tell herself she shouldn’t expect anything and just let
things take their natural course, but as the hours passed while
Daniel briefed her more thoroughly on the situation in the city,
her pulse quickened, and images started swirling through her
head.
    That morning had been a
gift, and as with any gift, she should have been grateful, not
greedy, and give thanks without asking for more.
    But she wanted more.
She wanted so much that it scared her, at times. She wanted Blake
to touch her, to kiss her, to hold her as close as Marc did. She
wanted to wrap both of them around her and never let go again. She
wanted the past two years to disappear, and better years to take
their place.
    “ Long day. I’m
exhausted.”
    Just a few words from Blake,
and Kate’s hopes were dashed. She had tried to tell herself it
would be okay if they didn’t have sex again right away, but it was
a disappointment nonetheless, especially when she knew that Blake
was making excuses. Somehow, in her mind, Blake’s healing and
shared intimacy had become intricately linked, and she couldn’t
separate the two anymore.
    “ Did you two spar a lot
today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light. She took another
bite of food; it suddenly seemed to taste like sawdust.
    Blake was peering into his
glass of blood as though seeking answers in it. It was Marc who
finally replied.
    “ We did. Trying to get back
into shape for the next fight. What’s the news from
Simon?”
    He already knew what the
news was; after all, they were there, in the dining hall, having a
late dinner, rather than on their way to the breach. But talking
was better than silence; she could understand that.
    “ He says he’ll have
something by tomorrow night. He was marinating herbs or something.
Honestly, it sounded like cooking when he explained what he was
doing.”
    She tried to put a bit of
humor in her words, but the two smiles she obtained in response
were equally strained. Blake lifted his glass, drank deep from it,
and rose from the table after setting the glass down
again.
    “ I’m going to turn in
early. Good night.”
    “ Good night,” Kate repeated
after a beat, feeling a little numb, but Blake was already leaving
and she wasn’t sure her words reached him.
    A gentle hand settled on top
of hers on the table, and she looked up at Marc.
    “ Give him time,” Marc
murmured. “It was a big step he took this morning. Let him find his
balance again.”
    Kate nodded mechanically. “I
know. It’s just…”
    A weight seemed to press on
her chest, making it hard to finish.
    “ You hoped things would go
more smoothly now?” Marc offered with a small, sad smile. “Me too.
And they will, just as long as we give him the time and space he
needs.”
    “ I know,” she said again,
but she was nonetheless grateful for his words and touch as he
continued to hold her hand while she finished her
dinner.
     
    * * * *
     
    When Blake climbed into the
back of the truck, he couldn’t help but feel as though he was
climbing back through time and returning to those long-gone nights
when he and Marc had first joined the squad and started fighting
demons in the City. The truck was identical to the ones in his
memories: the metal painted a dull black and stained with dust and
mud, a heavy canvas of tarp in a black, brown, and dark green
camouflage pattern over the back. The