Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle 3)

“What do you mean?”

Lucien chuckled. “Talking to you is like talking to him. We call him the resident therapist. He’s—he was just good at getting your head on straight. You’re the same way. Thanks.”

“No problem. I like helping. And your resident therapist is still around to help. Grey is a great listener, even if he can’t see what’s going on in your head.”

“True. But you can’t go anywhere, Cort. I mean it. That man needs you, and I’m not talking about him needing someone to help him find his damn shoes.”

They fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the way to the apartment, a small smile playing on Cort’s lips as he turned over Lucien’s words. He knew what Lucien meant. Grey didn’t need Cort around for much of the day-to-day living. Since Cort had gotten him set on the right path their first week together, Grey was largely figuring things out on his own. But Cort kept coming back, and Grey kept asking for him to return.

The truth was, Cort didn’t want to stay away. He liked hanging out with Grey. The man drew him in like no one he’d ever met before. He liked Grey’s innate strength and gentleness. The Soul Weaver—Cort was still trying to wrap his head around that one—had a hidden well of passion for his work and his “family” that Cort was sure no one really ever saw or noticed. But Cort did.

And he wanted to know more about Grey. Everything about him.

Maybe it wasn’t professional, but his world had been thrown into complete chaos. He should probably worry a little less about being professional at this point. He certainly hadn’t given it a whole lot of thought recently. Why start now?

“Anything else got you worried over there?” Lucien asked in a light, teasing voice, though there was a look of genuine concern in his eyes.

“Just questioning my sanity and common sense at the moment.”

Lucien expelled an extravagant breath of relief. “Oh good. That’s totally normal.”

“Great,” Cort muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“But seriously, if you’ve got any questions or concerns, you can talk to me anytime. You’re safe at that house.”

Cort nodded. He’d hoped that was true, and he felt a little more settled hearing it from Lucien. There was still plenty to worry about and figure out when it came to his life now, such as these unprofessional feelings he had for Grey, but it was at least one less thing to rattle around in his brain.Chapter 10As the sun sank in the sky, he sat with Grey outside in a patio chair. Twilight cast a soft glow onto the yard and with the sinking sun, the air grew cooler. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a nip in the air, but it was enough to let a person know winter was so very close. A fire crackled in the patio’s fireplace, the sound soothing. His stomach was full of the grilled steaks and baked potatoes they’d had just a short time earlier.

Now everyone was gathered outside, including the goddesses. Actual goddesses. They were assembled around Calder, paying particular attention to him—especially the one who seemed to always have flowers.

And here, Cort was facing magic head on.

Apparently, Calder had been given his powers, because he was currently making water dance in the pool. It rose in a wide arc into the air and splashed onto a bush that Lucien had set on fire.

“Come on, Lucien,” Clay complained. “Not the bushes!”

“What am I supposed to burn?”

“I don’t know, trash or something? I know! How about you rake up all these leaves and burn those!”

Calder softly chuckled and whipped up another water tube, this time aiming it at Lucien himself. The fire covering Lucien’s hands was extinguished while the man was completely drenched.

“Hey, now!” Lucien yelled. “Watch it with the tentacles!”

“Sorry, I was aiming for your hands!”

“And you got all of me.”

Calder held out his fingers and wiggled them. Water pulled from Lucien, leaving his clothes dry but now horribly wrinkled. The water droplets sort of coalesced in the air, forming a ball before Calder directed that ball to the pool.

Cort’s mouth dropped open in amazement.

“Look what the hell you did to my clothes,” Lucien grouched. “This shirt was dry-clean only.”

“That’ll teach you to practice in the nice stuff,” Baer yelled.

“Wish I could see what they’re doing,” Grey mumbled suddenly.

Cort looked at him, taking in his frustrated expression, fingers tightening around the beer he’d been nursing the past hour. “They’re practicing. Though from the looks of things, Calder is already pretty damn good at this. He’s making actual water tentacles rise out of the pool. He’s also picking on Lucien like he’s known him all his life or something. He’ll fit right into this crazy group you have here.”

Baer’s German shepherd came running up to him, and Cort rubbed her soft fur as she laid her snout on his lap. Baer laughed at something, pulling Cort’s attention back to their antics, and he grinned. “Now Clay’s all wet, but I get the feeling that was an accident, because Calder looks very apologetic. Guess he still has some practicing to do.”