Chapter Sixteen
Yun
Dinner had looked delicious, but I couldn’t say whether it was or not. I couldn’t taste a single bite, and I hadn’t shoved much down my throat, not with how my stomach rolled.
At least they hadn’t made me eat with them. That was one of the few blessings as far as I saw it. I’d scrolled on my phone, looking at random nonsense to ignore the coming evening.
I could have said no, of course. It was my choice whether I guided, whether I even stayed here.
They weren’t wrong, either. Given the dungeon they had coming up, guiding was smart.
Sending an esper into a dangerous situation with their corruption levels too high was stupid.
The last thing we needed was one of our squad ending up corrupted.
The thought chilled me, winding its way through my veins the way ice crystals formed when a water bottle was opened at the right temperature, when it turned icy all at once.
I never wanted to encounter a corrupted again, and if that meant guiding—even if I hated it—then it was what it was.
Of course, that was if I could even handle it. It was easy to think I had to do something—another to do it. I could know I had to fly to get out of a situation, but knowing it wouldn’t sprout me any wings. Guiding three S-Rank espers without any physical contact was a tall fucking order.
I had confidence in my powers, but I’d never tried that.
And worse, they were giving me time to ‘get ready’,’ which meant I was just stewing in my own thoughts, having to deal with the fears that filled me.
They were probably trying to be nice, but it only made it all worse.
It let my mind run down every path it didn’t need to go down, focusing on all the ways this could go wrong, on all the other things I could be doing instead, on the parts of my memories that I didn’t want to address.
I sat in a chair in the living room, preferring the space outside my own room, nothing personal. That worked far better for me.
Plus, being far away from any bed-like surface helped remind us all that guiding would not end up there.
Though…
Just that brought me back to when I’d guided Carter, to the way it had terrified and excited me in equal measure. Even thinking about it caused my pussy to grow wet, as though it really wanted to give that a try.
Keep it in your pants!
I scolded myself, but what was the point? I never fucking listened, and I doubted it would work this time, either.
A water bottle appeared from behind me, and I fought the urge to jump away. That would be too embarrassing.
“It’s cold,” Kenyon said, his mothering as sweet and stupid as ever. As if some cold water would make any sort of difference.
Still, it was nice to have someone thinking about me, so I undid the cap and took a drink, surprised to find it helped. The coolness of the water washed away the layer of discomfort that had thickened in my throat.
“You’re good with this?” he asked as he took a seat on the couch. He had his hair pulled back into a man bun, something I would have thought I’d laugh at if I ever saw in person.
How could it somehow look charming on him?
“I have to be, right?”
“No, you don’t.” At my look, he went on. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’re not about to force you, after all.”
“I’m here to guide. If I don’t do that, I’ll get fired.” The unspoken again hung in the air.
Kenyon tilted his head, and for once, he didn’t look quite as dumb as he usually did. “That’s not true. First of all, you can always say an idea is too much. You don’t have to do whatever we say, and even if you wanted to help, you don’t have to do it the way anyone says—not even Carter.”
“Rude.” The familiar voice cut into our conversation, and I turned my gaze to find Carter breezing in as though nothing had happened.
He looked far too nice for this time in the evening. He wore a three-piece suit, and he wore it well. It showed off the way his waist narrowed, the wider set of his back and shoulders.
This was what women meant when they said they liked men in suits.
Bastard.
Why had he dressed up so much? As though this were some date? It wasn’t even like I would guide him today, so was he just showing off?
Part of me wondered if he was just being respectful in some weird way.
That didn’t seem like this man, though.
“It’s true,” Kenyon said. “Even you wouldn’t force her to do this if she said she couldn’t.”
“You think I’m way nicer than I am.” He undid his jacket and removed it, slinging it over the back of the couch. It showed off the way the fastening at the back of his vest pulled in at his waist, and his wrists had cuff links with pearls in them.
I’d never thought a man could pull off pearls, but here we were.
“You want a drink?” Ingram carried a bottle of alcohol in his hand, but he stood too far away for me to identify it.
“Is drinking a good idea?” Kenyon asked.
“It helps relax people, and she looks like she could fucking use some relaxing.” Ingram unscrewed the top, then tipped it up and dumped a gulp into his mouth. He didn’t so much as grimace afterward, like he’d just swallowed a mouthful of water rather than hard liquor.
“She’s fried espers before. Perhaps we shouldn’t have her in a condition likely to cause that.” Shear snatched the bottle from Ingram’s hand, getting a glare in response. Not that Shear gave any reaction, as though he either didn’t notice the look or didn’t care.
Then again, none of these men seemed afraid of each other, none watched their backs. No matter what others said or thought about them, it was pretty clear they trusted each other.
“Drunk people are happy,” Ingram argued.
“Have you never heard of a mean drunk?” Kenyon pointed out. “For all we know, she gets extra feisty when she drinks. Not everyone gets cuddly like you do.”
Ingram shrugged and plopped onto the couch, his legs stretched out, his body slouched down. “Let’s be clear—I don’t cuddle.”
“Tell me again why you ended up spooning me the last time you drank yourself into oblivion?” Carter asked, crossing his arms.
“I never!”
“Wait, your bed? But he crawled into mine later.” Kenyon twisted to move his gaze between Carter and Ingram as though he couldn’t quite believe it, like some scorned lover who found out he’d been cheated on.
“You left mine for his?” Carter played right along.
And for a moment, I forgot about my nerves, about anything except the absolute spectacle these men made.
It made me wonder what anyone would think if they saw them like this. These men were espers, some of the most feared and celebrated people in the world—even if these specific specimens weren’t thought of so kindly—and no would believe that they acted in this way.
“He’s more cozy to spoon,” Ingram said with a shrug.
“He’s saying you’re fat,” Carter added on.
“I am not fat.” Kenyon crossed his arms, and I had to admit, I’d seen no sign of fat.
“You’re in the overweight category for BMI.” Shear set the bottle of alcohol on the coffee table.
“They don’t take into account muscle!” Kenyon huffed.
The exchange struck me as so absurd, I couldn’t help the laugh that left me. It stole the strain that had rested on me, turned the men from terrifying, powerful espers to idiots.
Sure, idiots could still hurt me, but it made them far less scary.
Kenyon offered me a smile, a gentle one full of kindness, telling me he’d known exactly what he was doing.
“Well, fatty should go first,” Carter said with an exaggerated sigh, as though he hated the idea. “He got her to smile, so he’s earned it.”
Ingram and Shear both muttered, their words so low I couldn’t catch them, only the soft buzz of discontentment making its way to me.
Even so, neither spoke up directly, seeming to accept the choice.
Kenyon didn’t look around, though. He didn’t seek permission from Carter, from the others, instead staring at me. He remained still, seeming to wait.
For what?
For me. He wanted permission from me, to make sure I was okay with it.
It made it all the clearer that Kenyon was the absolute best choice to start with. He enabled me to relax in a way that the others didn’t.
He was a healer, after all, and maybe that was part of it?
He wasn’t crafted to do harm, to hurt others, to cause them pain.
He could, of course—we all could—but his powers didn’t lean toward it.
Likewise, his personality tended to ease me, not to set off the warnings inside me.
He wasn’t playing that game to try to come out on top.
I didn’t have to worry about him in that way.
Even after everything that happened, even after learning my place as a guide, my interactions with espers hadn’t been great. Something about Kenyon, the casual way he addressed everything, helped lower my guard.
I scooted my chair closer to Kenyon until I sat just in front of him. I didn’t want to touch, but the less distance between us, the easier the process.
Guiding three espers wasn’t going to be easy no matter what, so making each session as efficient as possible—given the parameters I’d set—was best.
I focused on him, on feeling for the corruption inside him, that hated, dark, wriggling energy that infected him, that infected all espers. It was higher than it should have been, higher than most espers allowed it to get.
It had to be uncomfortable, a clawing sensation he could never escape, but he hadn’t let on about it. He’d never said a word.
An uneasy knot formed in my lower stomach. Something inside me didn’t like that for him. Normally, I didn’t give a damn about how espers suffered. They were well paid by the world for what they did, so who gave a damn if they had problems? Everyone had problems, after all.
However, thinking about Kenyon awake at night, sweat beading on his forehead, an aching, gnawing pain that he couldn’t escape, it didn’t sit right.
His easy smile, the way he always worried about me, those made it more difficult to accept that he hurt for no good reason, for something that I could easily resolve.
Those thoughts would do me no good at the moment, though, so I pushed them aside and focused on the task at hand.
I grasped the corruption within him and allowed it to flow into me.
It filled me, though with the distance, without physical contact, I had to pull it on purpose.
The space it had to flow through made it more difficult.
That unwanted, hated heat started inside me, my treacherous body betraying me as it always did. It was like it couldn’t understand the danger, like I was desperate for a drug I knew damn well would destroy me, but my addiction craved it anyway.
It made me wonder what it would be like with Kenyon…
He scared me less than the others, was less overwhelming. In fact, whereas the idea of sex with the others terrified me, with him, curiosity outweighed fear. I imagined he’d be sweet, gentle, slow and careful. It was how he was in regular life, so I had to guess he approached sex the same way.
I could almost imagine I might even enjoy it, that his gentle kisses, his large hands and solid body might actually please me.
I shook my head to dislodge that idea before it could take hold any deeper. It didn’t matter how tempting the idea might have been right then, I knew better than to give in.
So instead, I focused entirely on pulling the corruption from him, on alleviating his burden. My eyes slid closed, everything locked on tearing free that sickness inside him.
“Enough.” The voice shook me out of the action, causing me to snap my eyes open to find Carter kneeling before me but not touching me.
His expression implied he’d said my name a time or two before, that he might have even considered touching me to wake me from that trance.
When my gaze met his, when he seemed to notice that I’d come back to myself, he smiled.
“You went a little deep there, didn’t you? ”
I blinked slowly, not sure what he meant until I looked back over at Kenyon.
I didn’t sense a speck of corruption, as though I’d dragged every last bit of it out.
It was an exceedingly difficult task, something that only the most powerful or most in-tune guides could do.
I’d never done it because I’d never wanted to, because I’d always wanted guiding to end as fast as possible.
I’d never given enough of a damn to do that sort of work, but I’d done it just now without even meaning to?
“That’s amazing,” Kenyon whispered, voice full of a strange awe.
Then again, who knew how long it had been since he’d been free of this?
He stared at me with a fondness that made me entirely uncomfortable.
I was pretty sure he’d have reached across the space and wrapped his arms around me if it hadn’t been for the whole risk of getting fried if he tried it.
“Me next.” Ingram shoved Kenyon’s arm until he moved from the couch, taking the spot he’d just vacated.
And boy did this show me the difference.
Where Kenyon was soft and gentle, Ingram was all hard lines. The tattoos that covered him proved that point, along with the black gauges in his ears, his hair slicked back. It all made him unapproachable. All the ways in which I relaxed with Kenyon closed right back up when it came to Ingram.
Worse, where Kenyon was so open with everything, where he seemed without guile, Ingram served as an exact foil. He was all secrets and shadows and hidden danger. Even his skills as an esper played into that, him making use of the shaded, the hidden to gain an advantage.
He didn’t soften his gaze as he stared at me, as though daring me to give up. It almost seemed like he wanted me to surrender, to admit defeat. I had a feeling everything was a contest to him. His lips curled up on one side, as though he could read my loss already, and it amused him.
That pushed me onward, made me unwilling to give in. I didn’t want to appear weak. I was weak in a lot of ways compared to them, but the idea of looking that way infuriated me. It felt like lighting a signal to predators, a way of making myself a target—which was foolish, given my current position.
So I focused instead of giving into my worries, identifying the corruption inside Ingram. Just like Kenyon, it was higher than it should have been.
I wasn’t about to back down, not from him…