Samhain Publishing Ltd, Ebooks and Books in Print

Anyone, gay or straight, would be proud to have Grey at their side. Tall as a reasonably sized basketball player and bulky through the shoulders from lifting weights, he tapered down into a toned waist and trim hips before bulging out again with rocklike muscles in his thighs and calves. He had a bit more Cherokee in him than Nicholas, and it showed in the hawk-like shape of his features, his beaky nose and the stern cast of his mouth. His hair, too, was definitely of the People—long, the tips brushing his shoulders, and a deeply hued shade of black—although there was far more gray threading through it now than there had recently been.

He was a man of such size he made Nicholas feel small, and such a brave that next to him Nicholas felt every inch one of the white men, no matter how he had been raised. As a teacher, his great-grandmother had kept him firmly in line and made sure he knew the ways of the People and how to honor the spirits, but as a caregiver she’d loved him with all the heart in her wrinkled old body.

When he came to the dinner table one night, watching her cook, and he’d told her that he thought he was gay, she had simply smiled and continued to stir the soup she was making. He’d been trembling with fear at her possible reaction, but she’d only shaken her head and said, “Well, make sure to find a good man, strong in the arm and clever in the head, eh? Don’t fall for someone pretty, with no sense. That’s been the downfall of many a hunter.” Then she’d offered him a taste from her pot, and, well, that had been the end of that.

He had learned many things from his great-grandmother, but simple acceptance that what would be, would be, was one of her most powerful lessons.

If she were still around, he felt sure she would approve of Grey. A strapping big man with the smarts to own and operate his own business, a small café in the heart of downtown Asheville. Café Noctem. Nicholas could remember the fun they’d all had in naming Grey’s new enterprise, and finally deciding on Noctem in honor of all the night owls the artsy city teemed with…

Nicholas reached up and seized Grey by the lapels, kissing him hard. His move took the other man by surprise, but after a moment Grey kissed back, his arms coming around Nicholas’ back. When their lips parted they stood swaying lightly for a moment, foreheads cradled together, their breath misty white in the cold air. They kissed again, soft and gentle, heads tilting to allow each other access to their mouths. Not a kiss full of passion, but one filled with promise. Grey pulled Nicholas tight, holding him close as the moment washed over them and passed, leaving them feeling somehow more at peace.

The mist on the ground began to fade away in curls.

Neither man noticed.

They stood in silence for a long moment before Nicholas cleared his throat. “Are we ready?” he asked in a quiet voice, showing respect for the dead on whose land they stood.

“Let’s go,” Grey said, much to Nicholas’ relief. “The car will be warm. And we have a night of celebrations to prepare for. Celebration de la Vie in Asheville; it’s not to be missed, or so I hear.” He grinned and tweaked Nicholas’ nose. “Or so I’ve been hearing since I was old enough to attend. Let’s get out of here.”

Nicholas nodded, relieved that this trip out, at least, had ended well enough. “I’m right behind you.”

“No. You’re at my side. Always at my side. First my friend and now my partner.” Grey gave Nicholas a rough hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Then just be glad you have me and that I’m not going anywhere,” Nicholas said softly, too softly for Grey to hear. “Not if I can help it.”

And with those being his final words, the two of them left the cemetery behind them. Grey drove them away, still all but silent on the smoothly paved roads, through the gated entry and out onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. All the way back to their home, Nicholas occasionally placed his hand on Grey’s thigh, subtly reminding him of who he was with now, anchoring him to the present instead of the past.

He found himself wary of what might be coming next. But then again, no one would suspect. Or should not have.

But if Nicholas’ great-grandmother had been alive, she’d have seen the snaky smoke and warned the son of her daughter’s son about what would be coming their way.

Nicholas might, or might not, have even believed her…