The Green's Hill Novellas Read Free Page B

He wouldn’t be here for Charlie to shed more tears. Not if he held true to the pattern of his butterfly mind.
    “We only have Litha,” he said with soft regret. “But if it’s any comfort for you, I will be sorry to see the dawn.”
    Charlie didn’t have anything to say to that, and he didn’t question why Whim would only be there for one night. Whim was grateful. Suddenly, his policy of only mingling with the humans one night a year sounded… artificial, artificial and cowardly, a shield between him and the censure of someone who might not understand the nature of Whim. Especially by the end of the night, when Whim had learned so much about Charlie, and everything about him was real and brave.
    Charlie had just finished his senior year in high school. He had earned scholarships to a performing arts school—a full ride, in fact—but his father wanted him to join the military. Charlie didn’t want to go. He planned to tell his father the next morning that he couldn’t join the military. For one thing, the military did not appear to approve of specific ways of sharing flesh, and Charlie was gay.
    “I never understood that word,” Whim said, frowning.
    “You’re not gay?” Charlie asked, clearly disappointed.
    “I’m sidhe,” Whim told him. “Most of us are pansexual. We don’t discriminate among genders or species.” Whim especially had no trouble with that. He tended to bed whomever he wanted, depending on… well, his whim.
    Charlie raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word “species” with some appreciation, but then Whim asked him what he intended to do with his art scholarships and his family life, and he moved on to the answer.
    “I guess now I’m going to have to really live up to all that bullshit I was just spouting and tell them,” he answered obliquely.
    Whim blinked. “You didn’t mean it when you said it?” He was puzzled and let it show. Charlie flashed a crooked grin.
    “What—you mean everything you say?” he asked snidely.
    Whim nodded, his eyes open very wide. “I have to. I forget that humans and vampires and were-folk can lie, but we cannot. I did not realize you were lying.” Whim pulled his head back, a little disappointed.
    “I’m not lying now,” Charlie said, his voice firm. Surprising Whim, he caught Whim’s chin with his fingers and made the taller man look down, into his eyes. “I mean every word I said, I swear. And I’ll never bullshit you again.”
    Whim nodded, touched yet again. Maybe it was the boy’s youth that touched him, he thought optimistically. Youth would pass. But he did not think that was the reason this boy seemed to yank at his heart.
    “You are a very good person, Charlie,” he said gravely. “This night is much more exciting than I had anticipated.”
    “Even though you’re not getting laid?” Charlie asked, incredulous. “Because having not been laid yet, I can only tell you, I was really hoping you were up for it!”
    Whim took a deep, deep breath and exhaled through his nose. The problem, he thought crossly, was that human young were so beautiful at this age. There was an aching softness to even the strongest jaw, and a terrible vulnerability to simple things, like clavicles and biceps and limpid eyes that spoke of an awful, stomach-churning need to be cared for.
    “I do not think so,” Whim said, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. They trembled underneath the old ratty trench coat, and Charlie tucked right into him as though his slight frame was made to fit. “I think I’m up to good company and comfort tonight, if you don’t mind.”
    They had reached a stand of woods by now, also carved by the cold iron of the railroad track, and Whim, with Charlie at his side, ventured into it. It was not too terribly deep or thick, but in the darkness it would have been daunting to a human, especially since the moon was not full and the light was poor. Charlie followed Whim’s footsteps without hesitation, and Whim turned