Page 42 of Bluebeard’s Key

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the trinket, a small magnet that read: Magician in the Kitchen.

“I picked it up in a tourist trap in New Orleans.”

This drew a smile out of his handsome alchemist, perhaps not full strength, but a smile nonetheless. It was probably too silly for him, but he had ideas for other ways to pull out a full smile later on.

“Thanks. I’ll find a place of honor for it in the laboratory.”

Bluebeard stood in the courtyard after they led their horses to the stable and proffered the promised apples and carrots. Tom wanted to skirt all the pleasantries and throw Zayan immediately into his bed, but the Mage was having none of it.

Bluebeard looked positively sunny, not at all his stormy self. He said, “Your expedition was successful, I trust? I see that all your limbs are still in place.”

Bluebeard walked over and shook his hand. Very odd. Bluebeard hadn’t done that since the interview. He answered, “It was only Louisiana, not the wilds of the Amazon, but yes, it was a great success. We found a small stand of the swamp orchids and collected three. Hoyle is optimistic, so I’ll be getting started with it as soon as he stabilizes the growing conditions.”

“Excellent. That should prove most profitable, if you’re successful. Please do keep me informed.”

Tom was dumbfounded. Please? When had Bluebeard ever stooped to saying please? Everything about this was clanging with warning bells.

“Where’s Beatrice? I have something for her. A silly little gift.” A touristy box of pralines, to be specific.

Bluebeard said, “You just missed her. She left us earlier this week on grave business. A death in the family or some such.”

Zayan was staring at the ground, silent. Suddenly worried, he said, “I’m so sorry! How is she coping?”

Bluebeard answered, “She deported herself with admirable practicality. Nothing to concern you.”

“Please send her my condolences when you speak to her next.”

“Consider it done. I must attend to other duties, but welcome home.”

As Bluebeard and Thierry walked toward the gatehouse, Tom leaned in close to Zayan and asked, “Was he smiling?”

Zayan said darkly, still staring at the ground, “He’s been doing that a lot lately.”

“Well, I had a long flight and a magical boat trip and an enjoyable ride through the forest, scheming every minute about ways to put a smile on your face.” He stuck out his hand and said, “Shall we?”

Zayan gave a deep sigh, not at all the reaction he expected, but said, “That’s exactly what I need.”

Despite their absence from one another, their lovemaking wasn’t anything like he’d imagined. He’d expected it to be wild and untamed, catching up for lost time. His lusty Zayan was there, keen to explore his most intimate corners, but he lost him over and over again. When their kisses went deeper, Zayan was absent for a moment, not kissing back. When they shed their clothes and moved to deeper exploration, Zayan let him lead the way, a rare occurrence, and kept his eyes closed through most of it. Tom was left to worry he’d truly lost his sexy friend somewhere along the way. Did Zayan find someone else in Riverford while he was gone? Or was it something else?

After they fulfilled their passion, and Zayan lay sprawling on the bed, Tom asked, “Are you ready to talk about that cut on your face?”

His response was immediate. He closed in on himself, looking away. It looked like…shame. What was it? Something happened, and it probably involved the Mage.

“Did he hit you?”

Zayan didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. The look on his face told all.

He didn’t get angry often, but suddenly he was furious. He took Zayan’s hand and said, “This is too much. He’s been driving you too hard, and this is the last straw. We can’t let him abuse you.”

“I can protect myself,” Zayan snapped back. “Stay out of it.”

He was angry! Had he overstepped? He backpedaled, not wanting to make things worse, and said, “I’m sorry. I know you can protect yourself, but I can help, if you want help.”

Again, Zayan wouldn’t look at him, turning away and gazing at the wall. “I’m fine. I’d rather you stay out of it. I’m sorting it myself.”

“But what…how did you get that cut?”

“I can’t tell you. As you must know by now, Bluebeard is jealous of his secrets.”