Sebastian

here," he whispered, moving cautiously into the room. Then he noticed the package wrapped in brown paper next to the lamp and the slip of paper tucked under the string—and breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the writing.
    Glorianna.
    A careful, one-fingered poke at the package gave him the next answer. "I think my cousin brought the rest of your clothes here."
    "Was that the wrong thing to do?" Lynnea asked, sounding baffled by his behavior.
    "No. It was a kindness." Returning to where she waited, he reached past her and did something he'd never done in the ten years he'd lived there. He locked the door.
    "Come in," he said, moving around to light more lamps.
    She wandered around the room, looking at everything. Then she stopped and studied two framed sketches on the wall. "Who did these?"
    "I did," he replied gruffly, not sure if he was embarrassed to admit it or afraid of her opinion. He'd shown his sketches to Nadia a few years ago, after she'd bullied him into telling her how he spent his time when he wasn't prowling the Den. She'd kept three of them—one for herself, one for Glorianna, and one for Lee—and had these two framed for him.
    He'd never told her how much that had meant to him.
    "They're lovely," Lynnea said.
    And he would never tell this woman how much her words meant to him.
    "I like your home, Sebastian."
    He moved toward her without thinking, too desperate to feel to be able to think. His fingers tangled in her hair and his mouth feasted on hers, wanting anything, everything.
    And he could have everything. He knew it by the way her arms wrapped around him, the way she responded to his kisses. He could slake this terrible hunger and give her pleasure she'd remember for a lifetime. All she would forfeit was her virginity.
    But he could lose his heart, if he hadn't lost it already.
    She doesn't belong here.
    The thought intruded, rankled, savaged desire. He wanted one night with her, but he couldn't have it. Not for her sake, but for his own.
    He gentled the kiss, lingering because it would be the last. Then he eased back, out of her arms.
    "After we get some sleep, I'll take you to the Landscapers School."
    "But…" She stared at him, unfulfilled desire shifting into the pain of rejection. "But I'm a bad person.
    Mam said so."
    He shook his head. "You're one of the finest people I've ever known. If she couldn't see you for who you are, the flaw was in her, not in you. You don't belong in a place where the sun never shines. You don't belong in the Den."
    When he took a step forward, intending to ease the sting of rejection, she hunched her shoulders and turned away.
    No comfort. No sweet ending to a sweet encounter.
    Maybe that was just as well… for both of them.
    "Bedroom is through that door. You can have the bed."
    She didn't ask where he would sleep. She just crossed the room, picked up her parcel of clothing, went into the bedroom, and closed the door.
    He stared at the bedroom door for a long time before he pulled off his shoes and stretched out on the couch.
    He had done the right thing.
    So why did the right thing make him feel so bad?
     
     

 

     
     

Chapter Ten

 

     
     

     
    They rode the demon cycle in the fading light of a summer evening, Lynnea snug against his back, her arms wrapped around him. Even here, even now, he hadn't escaped the night. The day was taking its last breaths before surrendering to its rival. Not that it mattered. He belonged to the night. And Lynnea belonged to the Light.
    The Landscapers' School spread out over acres of land surrounded by a high stone wall. Borders and boundaries. A world confined in order to be free. Had the first Landscapers envisioned this when they shattered Ephemera? Had they intended for their world to be parceled out and held in pieces, or had they thought their descendants would be able to put the pieces back together?
    Don't put all your eggs in one basket , Aunt Nadia had told him once. He hadn't understood the meaning at the time, but now, as the demon cycle skimmed above the road next to the school's wall, he wondered at the wisdom of controlling so much from one place.
    Not his decision. Of course, the majority of people in Ephemera didn't have any say in the matter either.
    Everything was in the hands of the Landscapers. And, perhaps, the wizards, since they decided when a person was too unmanageable to live anywhere but a dark landscape.
    Travel lightly , Sebastian thought. Especially when entering this