Shadowbound by Dianne Sylvan Page A

lightly, then ran his fingers along the sword’s spine, and that touch made Deven feel like his own spine was melting. What the hell is wrong with me?
    “This carving is lovely,” Nico said. “Gaelic, is it not?”
    “Yes. It’s her name: Ghostlight.”
    Their eyes met, the Elf’s gaze penetrating. “It suits you.”
    Unsure whether that was a compliment, Deven resheathed the sword.
    Nico looked at Deven, eyes troubled. “How do you do it?”
    “Do what?”
    “Reconcile who you are with what you do.”
    “I don’t,” he replied. “I think of my healing ability as just another attribute, not a sign that I’m part of anything bigger.”
    Nico lowered his voice to where the nearest guards wouldn’t overhear. “And the Red Shadow? How do you reconcile contract killing with being a healer?”
    “How did you—”
    “I have spent three nights inside your mind, my Lord,” Nico said. “I know a lot more about you than you probably want me to.”
    Deven turned away, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “I was born with this blood, and I suffered for it. Your people fled the human world; I was left here alone to fend for myself, and I chose to become powerful enough that no one else could hurt me. Once you’ve lived the life I have, in the world I’ve had to live in, then you can judge my decisions.”
    “I meant no offense,” the Elf said, taken aback by the coldness in his words. “I only want to understand. This world is . . . I was unprepared for what I would see here.”
    “It’s easy to see nothing but ugliness.” Deven took hold of the Elf’s arm and drew him along by the wrist, down the hall to one of the back doors of the Haven. “Let me show you something.”
    The Haven was situated to the west of Sacramento proper, and its primary residence was designed to mimic a Mediterranean villa; it had courtyards and fountains that flooded in moonlight, all of which closed up tight at dawn. His favorite feature, however, was a wraparound terrace that stretched along the entire back length of the building, allowing access from any adjacent room. The terrace looked out over a wildlife refuge where the trees seemed to go on forever.
    He led the Elf out onto the balcony, up to the wall that surrounded it where the view was finest.
    Nico smiled, eyes sweeping out over the valley. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Deven had done the same thing many times over the years; something about looking out over the forest and breathing its air felt like sustenance, assuaging a different hunger than did blood.
    They stood there for a while in companionable silence, Deven leaning on his elbows on the wall, Nico with his arms crossed. Overhead the sky was ablaze with stars in the black bowl of the night; distantly he could hear the city, but facing west, all was peaceful, the noise blending into the night symphony of crickets, frogs, and wind through leaf-laden trees.
    “This is beautiful,” Nico said.
    Dev nodded. “One day I’ll have to take you to the giant redwoods. You’d love it there—it’s like a living cathedral. Sometimes I sneak off for a night and go listen to them talk.”
    Nico gave him a slightly surprised, speculative look. “You can hear them?”
    “Well . . . I . . .” Deven cursed himself mentally for saying anything. There were parts of him he never revealed to anyone, not even Jonathan—and yet in the course of a ten-minute conversation with Nico he’d already let something slip that no one on this earth had ever known about him. “Never mind.”
    Sensing his discomfort, Nico turned his gaze back to the view and let the matter drop.
    It occurred to Deven that this was the first time he’d really been alone with the Elf, at least when he was coherent. The thought actually made his stomach twist around itself with uncharacteristic nervousness. Meanwhile, the part of his mind that was able to think rationally was flabbergasted that of all the attractive males he’d ever