“Thank you, Renner.” Ollie crouched down. “Let me help you get him in the wagon.”
Together they lifted Quintus up and placed him as gingerly as they could in the back of the cart. It was used to move dirt and supplies around the farm, and therefore filthy, but it was the best they had. Concerned for his comfort, Renner climbed into the cart after him, placing his head right back in his lap.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Quintus smiled up at him, but when the cart jerked forward, he grimaced. “Who knew slingshots could be so damn dangerous?”
“I’m just glad we got to you in time.”
“Me, too.” Quintus clung to Renner’s leg as Ollie turned the cart around.
His hand felt cold against the heat of Renner’s body. “Your hand is freezing.” He reached down and grabbed his hand, but just as quickly he let go. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
Tentatively, Renner reached out and took Quintus’s hand in his again. Despite the coldness, Renner liked what he felt when he touched Quintus. He had alternating shivers and tingles all the way along his body. Renner did his best to simply be kind and not indulge in any dirty daydreams. That wasn’t too difficult to avoid since Quintus was injured. He couldn’t be the tough but tender master Renner craved if he was wounded. Maybe when he was better they could—no. When he was better, and probably before then, he would be in McBride’s bed, not Renner’s.
“I didn’t know about McBride.” Quintus had turned his head so that he could look out the back of the wagon toward the men who were following them.
“Know? Oh, that he wasn’t really with Jonas?” Renner kept his voice down since Jonas was sitting up front next to Ollie. “I didn’t know, either.”
“Are you upset about it?”
“Me? No. I guess if they’re happy that’s all that really matters.”
Quintus made a face. “But he’s a landed gentryman and is—was—the sheriff.”
“Even though my brother is a slammer it doesn’t mean he’s some kind of trash like the men who were chasing you.”
“I didn’t say—I didn’t mean—never mind.” Quintus shut his mouth and looked away.
Trailing behind their cart were the rest of his brothers, two thralls, and McBride.
“I suppose you
are
here to become McBride’s mate.” Renner tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but he failed miserably. Given that the slammers who’d been pursuing Quintus had undoubtedly captured all the thralls left in town, Renner realized the odds of him getting a mate were just about as likely as Caleb getting one.
Quintus didn’t answer.
Lifting his attention, Renner gazed back at Caleb. He was dressed in layers of clothing despite the heat of the day. Moreover, he had a pack on his back and his heaviest work boots on his feet.
“Caleb wasn’t coming out to meet you, was he?” It was a guess, but Renner was starting to learn to trust his gut.
“I have no idea what he was doing out on the road. I’m only glad he was there.” Quintus adjusted his torn shirt, but in covering up the center of his chest, he exposed his nipple. It was high, tight, and dark brown. Dozens of lusty thoughts sprang to life in Renner’s brain. “When they saw him, they stopped and stared in awe. I thought for certain I’d gone from the frying pan to the fire, but he actually stepped in front of me to protect me.”
That was his brother. Caleb alternated between being the hero and being a total ass. “What did the slammers want you for?”
“Blood. Sex. Revenge.” Quintus shrugged and then winced. “They acted as if I had personally enslaved them.”
“What happened to your slammers?”
“I didn’t have any.” Quintus moved up into Renner’s lap a little bit more. Excited at first, Renner quickly realized he was only shifting position so that he could use Renner’s shadow to block the sun.
“How did you feed if you didn’t have slammers?”
“That’s hardly any of your business.”
Renner realized Quintus was right, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. From what he understood, gentrymen had to feed daily and sometimes several times a day. Most gentrymen had at least three slammers, but then again, Renner had only known two gentrymen, both of them landed. Quintus wasn’t landed as far as Renner knew, but both Jonas and McBride were. Still, even though they both owned land, they were about as different as night and day in terms of personality. Beyond land, the other commonality they had was both of them fed a lot. Or Jonas had when he’d been giving his neck up to McBride’s father. Since Jonas and McBride, the son, faked their bonding ceremony, Jonas hadn’t come to Renner once to feed. Come to think of it, McBride hadn’t been feeding from him much lately, either.
It was obvious now that Jonas had been feeding from Ollie, but if Jonas was bloodbonded to Ollie, then who was McBride feeding from? The last time Renner had seen McBride crossing the yard with what looked like thirst, he’d been going to Caleb’s house.
Renner watched McBride and Caleb as they walked behind the cart. Even if the sun wasn’t glaring down, he’d be able to easily make out the two men since they were the exact same size and shape. Oddly, they were matched in strides. When McBride strode forward with his right leg, so did Caleb. They were pacing one another perfectly.
“That’s why he did that.”
“Sorry?” Quintus asked.
“Nothing.” Renner wasn’t about to be like Caleb and spew out private information. Part of him thought he had more discretion, but the truth was if he was wrong, he didn’t want to look like an idiot. McBride could have called Quintus here to ask him to be his mate in an effort to stop himself from becoming any more entangled with Caleb than he was. Or maybe Renner was only seeing what he wanted to see. If McBride had a thing for Caleb that meant Renner had a shot with Quintus. The more he thought about the two powerful men together, the less likely it became.
McBride was a man of morals. He was the sheriff for all of Woven Spire County, or at least he had been before the blood madness came. Would a man whose job it was to uphold the law break it? He might, given the major lie he’d told to cover up Jonas’s relationship with Ollie. But when Renner looked at his brother and his former master, he thought they belonged together. They seemed very well suited in temperament. However, McBride and Caleb didn’t seem to be so in tune. He sighed. Maybe he was only seeing something between them because it would be a benefit to him if they were involved.
“Tell me about him.”
“Him?” Renner asked.
“McBride.” Quintus glanced back and then lowered his voice. “I’ve only worked a few crime scenes with him, so I don’t really know anything about him personally. What does he enjoy doing in his off hours?”
Just about the last thing Renner wanted to do was play matchmaker between a man he was attracted to and his master. But then a new and very sneaky thought came to Renner. Maybe he could play the opposite of a matchmaker and ensure the two men had nothing in common.
“I’m sure you had imagined a much more hospitable greeting.” McBride slipped one hand under Quintus’s knees and the other behind his back.
“I can help.” Renner was up and out of the cart so fast he made it bounce.
“I’ve got him.”
“But I’ve got medical training.”
McBride frowned at Renner’s eagerness but then softened. “Go and get supplies then meet me upstairs. I’m going to put him in the room adjacent to mine.”
Renner nodded and ran off.
Quintus didn’t think McBride was going to be able to carry him into the big house by himself, but McBride managed without even breaking a sweat.
“But, sir, I have Ollie’s house arranged for our guest.” The butler kept his voice low but insistent.
“It’s pointless to quarantine him when we’ve all been exposed anyway.” McBride kept right on going through the main door and right up the sweeping staircase.
“You were going to quarantine me?” Quintus felt like he was in a romantic movie and his powerful lover was whisking him away for a night of passion. That notion was cut short by a bolt of agony ripping up his leg.
“I thought you’d be coming under your own steam.” McBride looked down at him briefly then away. “I’m sorry. I know it sounds dreadful, but I thought you would understand, given your specialty.”
“I probably would have suggested it if not for being chased by a gang of brutal slammers.” Just remembering the hunger in their eyes and their intense determination to get their hands on him made him shiver. “Thanks for saving me.”
“You’re welcome.” McBride grinned. “But I did have ulterior motives.”
“Oh?” Quintus wondered if Caleb had been accurate that McBride brought him out here in the hopes of making him his mate. Flattered by the idea, Quintus was nonetheless a little surprised because he’d never gotten one flash of interest from McBride before. But then again, he was a very circumspect man. He didn’t seem the type to announce his longings in an overt way. As a classically reserved gentryman of the strong and silent type, McBride would be more subtle in his pursuit. Quintus wasn’t so certain how he felt. He’d had a flash of longing when he looked at Renner, but that was only because he’d been so kind and tried to assist him.
“We could really use some help out here.”
“You invited me out here to work on your farm?” It wasn’t at all the romantic wooing Quintus had been picturing.
“Well, not work, per se, but we need someone who understands the blood disease and can help us develop effective strategies for fighting it.”
“Oh.” Quintus felt a little let down. He thought he was going to be relentlessly pursued by the most handsome man in the county, but it turned out he only wanted him for his mind. “I will certainly do all I can.”
“That would be wonderful.” McBride eased a door open and found his way in the dark to a bed, which he carefully placed Quintus on. It was incredibly soft and smelled lightly of lavender.
Once he was settled, McBride returned to the door and flipped on the light. The room was spacious and decorated in shades of green. It was reminiscent of the one and only time Quintus had been in a boat. He couldn’t remember the name of the body of water, but it seemed to him it was made from every shade of green on the planet.
“It shares a bathroom with the bedroom next door, which is my room.” McBride pointed to a doorway that was near the foot of the bed. “If you want privacy, simply lock the door. I’ll try to remember to knock before I enter the bathroom, but sometimes I’m not all the way awake.” McBride’s sky-blue gaze traveled down Quintus’s body, coming to rest on his leg. “But with that injury, I don’t think you’re going to be getting out of bed on your own for a while.”
Quintus was now thoroughly confused. The fact that McBride had put him in a room near his implied certain things, especially since they would be sharing a bathroom. That said intimacy without saying a word. But then again, McBride could only be wanting to keep Quintus close so he could assist him if he needed help. Confused about the entire situation, Quintus decided he would just have to wait and see what happened. The last thing he wanted to do was assume McBride wanted him and then look like a fool when he didn’t. Also, there was that curious attraction to the slammer who’d given him comfort. Maybe his injury was just making him a little desperate for a protector.
“I’ve brought some bandages.” The man who had offered out his lap for Quintus was back with a basket full of items.
McBride nodded and then looked down at Quintus. “This might be easier without your pants on.”
For a moment, Quintus thought McBride was going to bend over and help him remove his pants, but he turned and went into the bathroom. After a moment, he was back with a crimson towel.
“To protect the bed.” McBride slid that under his leg and then assisted him in sliding his trousers down.
Quintus felt oddly vulnerable to be wearing his ripped shirt and clinging underwear in front of two men he really didn’t know. The only saving grace was that his underwear wasn’t all tattered like everything else he was wearing. When he looked up, he discovered that both McBride and the slammer were looking at him, but there was a marked difference in
how
they were looking at him. McBride was staring intently at the wound, his gaze seeming to assess it, while the slammer—damn that he didn’t know his name—was considering the wound, but he was also darting surreptitious glances along Quintus’s entire body.
Feeling oddly vindicated that the slammer’s interest in him went beyond merely tending to his injuries, Quintus acknowledged a perverse kind of reciprocated interest. The slammer was tall and very strong. His black hair was short and shiny, his brown eyes wide and somehow innocent. Something about him interested Quintus, but he wasn’t certain exactly what. He was handsome, there was that, but there was something beyond the outer display. Something inside, a hidden element, that was calling to him in far stronger terms. Their little verbal tussle in the back of the cart came back to Quintus. The slammer had bristled at Quintus’s comments about the situation with his brother and Jonas. What Quintus hadn’t explained was that he wasn’t shocked about a landed gentryman selecting a slammer as a mate. Not at all. Even before the world changed so drastically, Quintus imagined there were plenty of gentrymen who had inappropriate relations with their slammers. What had surprised Quintus was that McBride had not only condoned the relationship but helped the wayward lovers be together by offering them the protection of his name and his home.