Tenn Read online

  Tenn

  †

  A romantic short story of

  The Runebinder Chronicles

  †

  Alex R. Kahler

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2018 by Alex R. Kahler

  Cover Design © 2018 by Alex R. Kahler

  Cover Photograph : Adobe Stock

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  THE RUNEBINDER CHRONICLES

  Chronology

  †

  RUNEBINDER : Book One

  TENN : A Runebinder Sequel

  RUNEBREAKER : Book Two

  †

  “You need to learn how to relax.”

  Jarrett’s words fell on deaf ears. Tenn paced back and forth in their—not his, but their—small room, his feet slowly treading a groove in the rug before the window.

  “How am I supposed to relax when we don’t know where he is?” Tenn asked.

  “You could start by sitting down,” Jarrett replied. He patted the space on the loveseat next to him. A loveseat. Their room actually had furniture. Apparently killing one of the Kin had its perks.

  Tenn paused his pacing and looked over.

  In truth, if there was ever going to be a time or a place to relax it was here and now. He and Jarrett and the twins had made their way back to Outer Chicago a few days ago. And now, safe and sound in the heart of the Guild, he was finally able to rest up. Physically, at least. The last few weeks of bloodshed and fighting still sat heavy on his heart, but here, with Jarrett, in this cozy room they were given to share, he could try to start to forget.

  Not that Water would ever let him forget.

  Still, the look in Jarrett’s eyes made him give up his current frustrated musing. Another night of pacing wouldn’t get him any closer to finding the boy the spirits had told him to save. He walked over and sat down on the loveseat, snuggling in close. Jarrett wrapped an arm over Tenn’s shoulders and Tenn propped his legs over Jarrett’s lap. He let himself look at his lover. Truly look.

  Jarrett’s features had finally started to heal and fill out again, with the help of a regular diet and Tenn’s constant healing touch. The dark circles were fading from his eyes, and the bruising on his cheeks and pale flesh was now no more than a memory. Beneath the plush wool sweater, the scars and further bruising from Jarrett’s torture at Leanna’s hands had mostly healed.

  There were other wounds, too, that Tenn knew he couldn’t mend. No matter how often he traced his hands over the hard planes of Jarrett’s chest, he couldn’t fully reach into the man’s heart and heal the trauma that lay there.

  But he could feel it. With Water pulsing in his veins, he could sense the pain deep within, the wounds and trials Jarrett surely felt but never voiced. The man had hovered on the brink of death, had endured what must have been terrible torture at the hands of one of the most merciless Kin in the world. Not once had Jarrett mentioned his time in Leanna’s clutches. Not once had he complained.

  Tenn knew Jarrett was trying to protect him. Trying to keep Tenn from feeling responsible for what had happened to him.

  Even though Tenn was responsible. For everything. The game was convincing Jarrett that he didn’t know it.

  “How’s your headache?” Tenn asked, reaching up and stroking the soft fuzz of Jarrett’s temple, the sides freshly buzzed and the rest of his blond hair falling loose over his shoulders. Tenn opened to Earth, gently, and pressed a small tendril into Jarrett’s skin, as he had done so many times in the past few days, searching for wounds, searching for anything he could do to make amends.

  “Better,” Jarrett replied. He reached up and took Tenn’s wrist, kissed Tenn’s palm. Sparks raced across Tenn’s skin, making his heart flutter. Jarrett kept Tenn’s hand there, against his lips, pressing his words to Tenn’s flesh. “You don’t have to keep doing that,” he whispered. “I’m fine.”

  “I know,” Tenn said. It was easier to pretend things were fine than press the issue. He could spend his entire life trying to make Jarrett happy, and it still wouldn’t feel like enough.

  The man had nearly been turned into a Howl. And yet, it often felt like Jarrett was the one trying to comfort him.

  “Besides,” Jarrett continued, moving Tenn’s hand down to rest on Tenn’s legs. “It’s you who’s supposed to do the relaxing right now.” He nodded to the window. “Unless that pacing was a new type of yoga.”

  Tenn sighed and buried his face against Jarrett’s shoulder. Even now, the scent of Jarrett was enough to make his heart change tempo, that curious mix of excited and comforted, a cologne of musk and soap and something deeper.

  “He’s still out there,” Tenn whispered.

  “I’m starting to wonder if I should feel jealous,” Jarrett said with a low chuckle. “You keep talking about this other man. Men. Thankfully I’m not the jealous type.”

  Tenn rolled his eyes and snuggled in deeper. Trying to push out the dread that flooded his veins every time he thought of the boy his vision had shown him, the need that pressed against his chest until he couldn’t breathe.

  “He’s going to destroy us if we don’t find him,” Tenn said. “I don’t know what there is to be jealous about.”

  Jarrett chuckled. Ran his hand through Tenn’s hair, his touch warm and light.

  “I know, babe. I know.”

  Babe. Even that word was enough to make Tenn’s heart spark. And maybe Jarrett did understand, but he didn’t seem to carry it with the same intensity. Tenn knew deep down that the boy was a danger. Or in danger. Or both. And so long as Tenn sat around waiting, the danger grew more and more apocalyptic. Tenn closed his eyes. Firelight flickered through his lids, and in the darkness he saw the boy’s face. The worried eyes. The pierced lip. The flames that wrapped around him, threatening to pull them all to ashes.

  “I don’t know how you can be so calm about this,” Tenn said. “Tomas is on the loose and this guy needs our help and we’re just sitting here, waiting.”

  “Recovering,” Jarrett amended. “There’s a huge difference. You used a great deal of magic to bring Leanna down. Not to mention bringing me back to life. You need time to rest. Though, since you’re so bad at it, maybe try convincing yourself that your friends need time to rest. You seem better at thinking about the well being of others than you do for yourself.” Tenn felt Jarrett smile against the top of his head. Jarrett pressed his lips into Tenn’s hair. “Besides, I currently have bigger things to worry about than some guy I’ve never met.”

  “Oh?” Tenn asked.

  Jarrett squeezed him. “Yes. Like what we’re going to do for your birthday tomorrow.”

  Tenn’s momentary contentment froze along with the blood in his veins.

  “How did you—“

  “I have a good memory,” Jarrett said. He snorted to himself. “And I had Cassandra let me look at your file. Blood type O negative, too; of course you’d be a universal donor.”

  Honestly, Tenn had forgotten that tomorrow was his birthday. There didn’t seem to be a point in keeping track anymore. It’s not like there was ever anyone around—or any reason—to celebrate. Every day he managed to stay alive was celebration enough. Or curse enough, depending on how depressed Water was making him.

  “I don’t want—“

  “Blah blah,” Jarrett said. He cupped his hand over Tenn’s mouth, sil
encing him. “You don’t celebrate your birthday. Yeah, I know. Probably because at heart, you don’t think you’re worth celebrating.”

  The statement was a spear to Tenn’s heart. If only because it was entirely true.

  Jarrett shifted, tilted Tenn’s head to look him in the eyes. Those pale blue eyes, often so fierce, now were soft.

  “You are worth it, Tenn. Please. Let me show you that.”

  Jarrett kissed Tenn again, and it made the pain in Tenn’s heart multiply and melt, flooding his veins with a terrified sort of hope. That tomorrow, he would have a reason to be happy he was alive. A reason to celebrate.

  And, perhaps more importantly, someone important to celebrate with.

  A small part of Tenn wanted to fight it off. Wanted to prevent Jarrett from doing something for him. But he knew Jarrett well—denying Jarrett this opportunity would only hurt both of them. Frustrating though it was, he knew that Jarrett wanted nothing more than to take care of him, even if Tenn felt like it should always be the other way around.

  “I’m a firm believer in birthdays starting early,” Jarrett said, his loving gaze turning…sly.

  “Oh?” Tenn said again. This entire conversation had him lost for words.

  “Yes,” Jarrett said. “Though I’m afraid I wasn’t able to get to the store in time. I’m going to have to be your present.”

  The heat in Tenn’s veins changed, became a simmer that rattled his heart. Instantly, all thoughts of the Dark Lady and prophecies faded as a new, almost-unexpected aspect of their relationship burned through his awareness.

  “I don’t see any gift wrap,” Tenn said.

  Jarrett’s grin widened.

  “Oh, it’s there. Half the fun is in the unwrapping, after all.”

  Jarrett leaned over to press his lips against Tenn’s cheek. His earlobe. Each kiss sent a wave of heat and electricity through Tenn, and when Jarrett’s hand slid to cusp the back of his head, Tenn practically purred.

  He kissed the notch between Tenn’s clavicles, used his free hand to pull aside the collar of Tenn’s shirt. And when he bit into Tenn’s collarbone, Tenn finally let himself focus on the guy he had, rather than the ones who were getting away.

  †

  The world cracked around them.

  Lightning streamed through the fissures of the sky, pulsing as fast as Tenn’s heart. Water boiled in his stomach, made thick rain drops dance and whorl as he ran. The storm above them raged, and so did the soil. Shafts of red light that struck up like spears, pressed from the deepest recesses of the earth. Tremors that rattled Tenn to his bones.

  Bones that rattled from the ground.

  Broke from tombstones.

  Poured from mausoleums.

  Bones danced, too.

  And on the other side of the cemetery, the boy Tenn was cursed to find stood, fists clenched and flames raging around him. Fire burned so bright in his chest that Tenn couldn’t see the guy’s face. Only the tattoos on his fisted knuckles, flames licking between his fingers: BURN THEM. Around his feet, red and cursed against the soil, were runes glowing against the dark.

  Tenn didn’t know why he was running.

  Only knew he had to stop him.

  “Wait!” Tenn called.

  The boy didn’t wait. But as Tenn neared, he heard him speaking. Muttering to himself. His voice nearly lost in the din of the storm and the crush of toppling bones.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, his words thick with accent. “I’ll save you. I swear I’ll save you.”

  The boy dropped to his knees. The ground shuddered again.

  “Don’t!” Tenn yelled.

  The boy pressed his hands to the ground before him. Beside the smooth tombstone. Runes and power arced over the ground, and the black soil breathed.

  “Please!” Tenn yelled. He couldn’t run faster. Every step, and the distance grew. Every step, and the boy was further away. “Stop!”

  The ground rumbled.

  A hand scratched to the surface.

  The boy looked up. Crimson flecked his eyes.

  “It is too late, Tenn,” the boy growled. But not his words. The low, oceanic lilt of the Dark Lady. “He is mine.”

  Fire flared.

  The boy lashed out.

  Tenn poured all of his magic, all of his strength, into the shield of water he thrust before him.

  Fire hit water. Tenn shielded his eyes against the light, against the sizzle and steam.

  And when his shield faltered, when black flame consumed him, all he heard was the boy’s laughter.

  †

  “No!” Tenn yelled out.

  He woke, covered in sweat, the sheets tangled around him. Jarrett was there in a heartbeat, his hands on Tenn’s shoulders and his lips on the back of Tenn’s neck.

  “It’s okay,” Jarrett whispered, over and over, until Tenn could finally hear the words over his own heartbeat.

  Despite the fear running through his veins, that touch was enough to bring him back into his body, to make the world seem like it wasn’t necessarily crumbling.

  He had Jarrett. To whatever degree, in Jarrett’s arms, he was safe.

  “She has him,” Tenn gasped.

  “What? Who?”

  “The Dark Lady.” Tenn leaned back against Jarrett’s naked chest. Let Jarrett wraps his arms around him and squeeze him tight. “She has him. I don’t— I don’t know—“

  “Shh,” Jarrett whispered. He nuzzled Tenn’s ear. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”

  But Tenn knew it was more than a dream. Ever since Matthias had stepped into his dreams and torn his world to shreds, he knew the difference between a nightmare and a premonition or vision or whatever they were. This was no night terror.

  The Dark Lady wasn’t just seeking the same guy he was. She’d captured him. And Tenn knew that if he didn’t act fast, he would lose the guy entirely.

  For a while, the two of them sat there, the covers wrapped around their waists and Jarrett kissing Tenn’s neck, running his hands soothingly up and down Tenn’s arms. Unlike the other rooms in the Guild, this one wasn’t below-ground. Instead, they’d gotten a refurbished office on the upper floor. Maybe because the major threat from the Howls was over. Maybe it was another perk of killing the Kin. In any case, it meant the room wasn’t sunken in shadow like those Tenn was used to. The faint light of morning filtered through thin windows along the wall, orange and reminding Tenn way too much of the flickering purgatory of his dream.

  Guilt instantly flooded through him. Here he was, curled up against the love of his life, while somewhere, out there, the guy he was supposed to help was struggling against a terrible darkness.

  “You can’t do anything about that right now,” Jarrett said.

  “What?” Tenn asked. Had he spoken aloud?

  Jarrett shifted, awkwardly moved around so he was straddling Tenn on his knees, facing him. Tenn’s eyes flickered down the full length of Jarrett’s torso, once more overwhelmed with desire and the sheer amazement that Jarrett was, for lack of a better word, his.

  “I can feel it,” Jarrett said, pressing his hand to Tenn’s thudding heart. “This isn’t your fault or responsibility. Your first responsibility is to yourself.”

  “I can’t expect you to understand,” Tenn began, looking away, but Jarrett gently guided Tenn’s gaze back to his.

  “But I do,” Jarrett whispered. “Ever since you brought me back, I’ve felt it. Everything you feel, everything you worry about. I can feel it. Like your emotions are my own. I thought I was going crazy at first. Thought maybe I was just overtired or something. But then I spoke with Dreya, and she said…she said that what you did, bringing me back to life, it bonded us. Deeper than magic.” He pressed a little on Tenn’s chest. “I know what you feel, Tenn. Because I feel it too. And this guilt…it’s not helping anyone. We will go find him. But we have to be smart about it.” He sighed, and maybe it was Tenn’s imagination, but he could have sworn he felt something in his own chest, a flick
er of Jarrett’s own resolve. And something else.

  Fear.

  “If the Dark Lady is talking to you in your dreams,” Jarrett said, “there’s a chance she’s just using you. Hoping you’ll make a rash decision. There’s a good chance this guy is fine. The Dark Lady might just be trying to lure you into danger.”

  Tenn didn’t know what was worse—the fact that Jarrett believed his dream was more than a nightmare, or the idea that the Dark Lady was actually trying to manipulate him. He’d known for a while that she had been targeting him. At least, through her minions. Never so directly.

  “It’s okay,” Jarrett continued. He moved his hand. Took Tenn’s face in his warm palms. “I’ve got you. And I’m going to protect you. I promise.”

  Tears welled behind Tenn’s eyes as a sob choked the back of his chest.

  He knew, looking into Jarrett’s pale eyes, that his lover meant it. He knew that no matter what, Jarrett would be there. Always his partner. Always his protector.

  He wouldn’t have to be alone. Not like he’d been all this time.

  “Thank you,” Tenn whispered.

  “Thank you,” Jarrett said, for what felt like the thousandth time. “I love you, Tenn. Never forget that.”

  “I’ll fight death itself for you.”

  Jarrett smiled. “You already have.”

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Tenn’s. Tenn let his eyes flutter shut. Let the warm morning light melt away the dreams of darkness. Let Jarrett’s kiss assuage the fear.

  He was safe. Safe.

  They would find this stranger soon. In the meantime, he would try to convince himself that he deserved this much love.

  That he deserved to feel like maybe, somehow, things would be okay.

  †

  They didn’t fall back asleep, and not for fear of further dreams. Jarrett’s body was a dream unto itself, and they spent the soft hours of the morning twined in each other’s arms, the only words their muffled whispers, pulses racing from desire rather than fear. And when the sun rose fully and Tenn was ready to fall back asleep, Jarrett slid from the bed and stretched before a window, muted sunlight washing across the chiseled planes of his chest, the grooves of his hips, the strong arcs of his thighs.