Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
RAUM
Watching Ezra pace between the stacks was one of his new favorite things to do. Ezra was lean and trim, handsome in a pretty fashion with elegant features and an invigorating energy that crackled across his aura like little fireflies.
Raum, now that Ezra knew about his empathy, wasn’t working on suppressing it around his new lover, and he easily made out the chaotic jumble of Ezra’s emotions, and it was easy to guess where his thoughts were going.
“Maybe I should have gone with Grendel,” Ezra stopped and spun on his heel, facing Raum where he sat in his desk chair that he’d pulled out of his office and into the wider area of Special Collections.
“And do what?” Raum asked, not unkindly. That seemed to stymie Ezra for a second, and he saw when Ezra took a deeper breath and let it out slowly, his anxiety slowly ratcheting down.
“I don’t know. Which means there’s no reason for me to go interview a murderer. I don’t know what to do—this is the biggest case I’ve worked on before and it’s messing with my head. I’m just feeling useless.”
“You’re not useless,” Raum protested immediately. “Half of Alberta would be buried under a blizzard if you hadn’t stopped the storm skull when you did. And you’re going to figure out how to stop it permanently. I have no doubt.”
Raum was glad they were alone because Ezra walked over to him, moved his arms, and promptly sat in his lap.
Raum grinned, wrapped both arms around Ezra, and held him close to his chest, Ezra sighing deeply and snuggling under his chin.
The chair creaked a bit but held up to the weight of two grown men occupying it.
They sat like that for a few minutes, silent, just enjoying each other.
Lilith merped from the stacks, the inquisitive sound echoing a bit off the ceiling as the familiar investigated the rare books and materials in the Special Collections room, sniffing everything.
Ezra ran his hands over Raum’s arms, not with any purpose in mind, more absent-minded touching that Raum enjoyed. It showed that Ezra wanted to touch him, and he sought out Raum for comfort. That made Raum very happy.
He dropped a kiss on Ezra’s hair, and Ezra made a pleased sound, almost a purr, and Raum grinned, doing it again.
“You’re spoiling me,” Ezra said softly.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” Raum assured him.
And if Ezra felt spoiled by basic affection, he had a feeling the poor man was touch-starved and needed more affection. Which he was happy to provide.
Ezra
Raum was amazing.
His lap was sturdy, warm, and his embrace was strong without being smothering.
Ezra usually avoided physical contact with strangers, mostly because it aggravated his sensory issues, though that problem went away after prolonged exposure, but with Raum it seemed the waiting period didn’t apply.
He hadn’t felt uncomfortable touching Raum at any point since they met, and Ezra was left marveling at the thought.
“I’ve never sat in someone’s lap before,” Ezra shared.
“Really?” Raum said, running a hand through Ezra’s hair, scratching his scalp. Goddess, it made him want to purr like Lilith. Raum touching him felt incredible.
“It’s true,” Ezra replied, all but limp in Raum’s embrace, fingers playing with the buttons on Raum’s shirt. “Last time was probably one of my nannies as a child.”
“How’re you feeling about it now?” Raum’s voice was warm and slightly teasing, making Ezra grin.
“I love it. Thanks for not pushing me to the floor. It was an impulsive decision.”
“Have more of those around me, please. I like the outcome.”
“Do you have to work or something? I don’t know your schedule, and I’m waiting for your grandfather to get back to me about the skull. I don’t want to take up all your time.”
He really didn’t want Raum to get behind on work or get in trouble for missing classes or…
“Don’t worry about me,” Raum interrupted Ezra’s mental spiraling.
“I’m on a post-doc fellowship and I’m nearing the end of my second year here at Edmonton.
I teach a few classes a week to a handful of graduate students, and I’ve got office hours twice a week for a few hours.
My book is nearly done, and I’m contemplating whether or not to apply for the open tenure-track position here at the university, or shop around for another TT job. ”
“Do you have another year left on the fellowship?” Ezra asked. Most post-doc fellowships were either one or three years, and if he was in his second year he likely had another to go.
“Yeah, mine is a three-year post-doc contract. I won’t start looking for another job for several more months; I need to finish my fellowship and get my book published.”
Ezra hummed a bit. “Why are you in the Special Collections room of the library and not with the History Department?” That question had been bothering him for a few days, since he passed out and Raum carried him into his office.
His very nice office, in a part of the university that had nothing to do with his department.
He knew that librarians usually had offices in the library, and graduate and post-docs rented study spaces, but he’d never heard of anyone having a huge office in a wholly unrelated section of an institution.
Raum stiffened a bit, and Ezra tilted his head back, looking into his face. Raum was staring at him with a contemplative expression.
“What?” Ezra asked.
“I was foolish, I think, in expecting no one to notice,” Raum said, all mysterious.
Ezra grumbled and sat up a bit, the chair creaking a smidge. He held still and the chair didn’t break as he eyed Raum with faint suspicion. “Are you squatting in an unauthorized office?”
“No, not really.” Raum tipped his head back and forth in a so-so motion. “It’s complicated.”
“Now I really want to know.”
“It means getting up,” Raum warned him with a glint in his eyes.
“Ugh.”
Raum laughed, grinning wide, eyes bright with amusement. “I’ll let you sit on me again later.”
“Deal,” Ezra agreed and let Raum help him off his lap.
Raum gestured and Ezra followed him into his office. It was very nice for a post-doc office, more a space Ezra would expect for faculty. Big desk, bookcases, and a huge couch. Full of houseplants, decorations, and artifacts. It was homey and felt like Raum.
Even smelled like him, of wildflowers, cedar, and fresh, clean air.
Raum shut the door, closing off the view of the library. He then stepped back, and Ezra felt a weird trickle of something through the ambient magic fields, so slight he almost dismissed it as a natural shift in energies if not for the wary expression on Raum’s face.
“What’s going on?” Ezra asked, not worried or afraid, but something was definitely up.
“Before I show you,” Raum began. “Can you keep this secret for me? My ancestors were hunted to near extinction for this secret.”
“I promise,” Ezra swore, perhaps foolishly. He barely knew Raum, but what he did know about the man was that he was kind, honest, and generous with his time and knowledge. It felt like Ezra was on the precipice of something huge.
Raum took a deep breath. “Open the door.”
Ezra squinted at Raum but walked the few steps to the door and opened it. He stared at the white wall of a long hallway, and then slowly shut the door, before opening it once more to see the same hallway.
The Special Collections room of the Rutherford Library was gone.
In its place was a long hallway with white walls, tiled floors, and he carefully stuck his head out to see other doors down either direction of the hall, some open, but most of them closed.
At the far end of the hall was a sign hanging from the ceiling, and he made out the words ‘History Department’ before he leaned back into the office, thinking hard.
Portals were possible, but they were exceptionally difficult to make, expended a ton of energy, and were loud, bright, and impossible to anchor permanently to one place.
Wormholes were theoretical, as far as he knew, and they would also be impossible to anchor to a physical location.
They were theorized to be rips in reality, loud and chaotic, and dangerous to traverse.
Magical scientific theory postulated that teleportation was possible, and it was theorized to be an ability innate to various species of fae, but it wasn’t confirmed officially.
The fae were notorious about keeping their abilities a secret from human populations. Ezra didn’t blame them for it, either.
Raum was descended from High Court Sidhe, was mostly fae, with some human mixed in.
Raum just said that the secret he had was responsible for his ancestors being hunted near to extinction.
Legends of the High Court Sidhe had them living in massive kingdoms underground at the height of their power and influence.
Historians considered those kingdoms to be magical dimensions or perhaps alternate realities, under the control of the more powerful sidhe, like the legendary Oberon or even Celtic deities, like Arawn or the Morrigan.
Ezra carefully shut the door, locked it, and stepped away from the doorway. He spoke carefully, quietly, locking eyes with Raum. “Your office is an underhill.”
Raum’s eyebrows went to his hairline, as if surprised that Ezra knew the term. Ezra knew his history of magic, and the continuous wars between the humans and fae peoples of Europe since the inception of the High Council of Sorcery were part of that history.
“Yes,” Raum answered. He paused, shifting a bit, watching Ezra. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”
“I’m medicated and accustomed to rare magics,” Ezra said, some sass sneaking through in his tone. “Why the hell are you telling me? We’ve slept together once and known each other for a week. I’m usually impulsive as hell, but you’ve won this time.”