Page 66 of Nemesis Mine
Cyrus couldn’t. Max knew.
“Cyrus.” Exasperation now. Max wasn’t used to being made to wait. The bed dipped and then his hands were on Cyrus’s, encasing them. “There was no earthquake because... that isn’t where your power lies. Am I right?”
He’d known it was coming. It still sent a jolt through him, his stomach clenching up tight with dread. He couldn’t know. Nobody was supposed to know.
Max changed tack, giving his hands a little squeeze. “So, what is it?” He was trying to sound encouraging, but Cyrus could just imagine the look on his face when the truth of his power was confirmed. “Your magic is connected to plants, somehow?”
There was no point in avoiding it anymore. Cyrus openedhis eyes unwillingly. He found Max watching him with a mixture of exasperation and concern.
And amusement, clear in his eyes.
Cyrus wrenched his hands away. “Go on, then,” he said, making his voice sharp. Better that than vulnerable. “Laugh.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “At what, your melodrama?”
“At the fact that my powers aren’t—”
“Aren’t what?”
“Fearsome enough,” Cyrus snapped. “Aren’t suitable for a wrongdoer.” Bitterness flooded his tone. “I’m achild of Spring, as they used to say. I can make plants grow, I can make them move. Oh, they’ll do anything for me, flowers and weeds and pretty things, and the sprites fuckingloveme for it, in case you haven’t noticed, they’re only too happy to flutter around my shoulders undermining me. Making me lookweak. Just like you told that journalist.” Words spilled out of him, a sickening rush. “I can’t shake the earth like everyone thinks I can, which is the only reason they ever respected me in the first place—”
“Cyrus, let’s face it, in the time that I’ve known you, you’ve never needed to truly possess those powers. You’ve had people fleeing the mere thought of your magic.”
Max’s words brought him up short. He didn’t sound judgemental, or scornful, or disappointed. If anything, he sounded impressed.
“But it’s a lie. I’m not Earthshaker.” Cyrus’s voice was smaller than he wanted it to be but there was nothing he could do. The words were out there.
“I’m not here for Earthshaker,” said Max, as though thatshould be obvious. But that couldn’t be right. Max valued power, the respect of others. In his youth, at least, he had striven to earn it. He would not want somebody who had to twist reality to make people fear him. But Max’s hand found his again, gripped tight, his voice lowering with intensity. “It was never about Earthshaker. I’m here foryou.”
Cyrus stared at him. His heart was still beating fast, but it no longer felt quite so heavy. The sense of dread began to ebb away. He felt strange, exposed, like Max had reached into his chest and pulled out the core of him, held it up to the light for inspection.
But he also felt lighter. Perhaps lighter than he had ever felt. Maxknew. And Max was still here.
“You mean it,” Cyrus said slowly. Suspicion laced his tone.
Max rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes, as though this was no big deal. Cyrus wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or kill him. “Of course I mean it.”
The answer could only be kiss him. Cyrus leaned forward so quickly that Max jumped. He was already smiling by the time Cyrus’s lips met his. Their hands were still wrapped together in the space between them. If his grip constituted clinging, Max didn’t comment.
“I mean it,” he said again, like he knew Cyrus needed to hear it. “I don’t care. In fact...” Max’s thumb traced a soothing pattern against Cyrus’s knuckle, sending a shiver scuttling up the length of his arm. “Maybe it’s a bit sexy. Something just between us. Our little secret.” He paused. “And, you know, I did always wonder why you had such a well-maintained herb garden, it seemed so—”
Cyrus sat back and swatted at him. “Don’t bring my oregano into this.”
Max grinned. Smug bastard. “It’s cute.”
“I’ll strangle you in your sleep with my ivy,” Cyrus told him, jerking his head up.
Max regarded the vines entwined across the ceiling. “Yeah, they’re a bit of a giveaway really, aren’t they?”
Oh, now he was critiquing Cyrus’s home decor. “Nobody else sees that.”
A sideways look. “Nobody?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“I’ve never invited anyone back here,” he muttered, grudging.
