Page 75 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

Visually, Ellery traced the scars he’d been there for, and then the ones that had happened before Ellery had arrived in his life, and he wondered, as he always did, about the scars within.

And at the same time, he gave thanks.

How this amazing creation, this stunning human being, had become the perfect lover, the perfect friend, the perfect mateforhim, plain and practical, awkward and meticulous Ellery Cramer, was really one of the wonders of the world.

It was a miracle.

Ellery didn’t need to have passed his Bar Mitzvah to understand that miracles didn’t always last. Sometimes they were transient. They should be celebrated.

Jackson could be—and almost had been—taken from him at any time. He was trying so hard—witness his half-intelligiblestory of a four-thirty snack—to make their time together as long as possible.

Ellery would cherish absolutely every quiet moment.

“Shwhyruwookingadme,” Jackson mumbled, and Ellery could tell he was trying to open his eyes and failing.

“Sweats on or off?” Ellery asked crisply, moving into the room.

“’Weats?” Jackson mumbled.

“That’s off, then,” Ellery decided, putting a warm hand on Jackson’s thigh before stripping the pant leg off.

“In’t your mom here?” Jackson asked.

“Yes, but she understands you need to sleep.”

“So do you.” It was the most articulate thing he’d said.

“I’ll be in shortly,” Ellery told him, his own yawn working its way up from his toes.

From the dining room, his mother’s clear call came. “Ellery, I’ll clean up. You two get some sleep.”

“Heh heh heh—ears like abat.Prolly turns into a bat at night. Lucy Satan Bat in the Satan Bat trees.”

While he was speaking, he helped Ellery by pulling his foot out of the pantleg and rolling onto the comforter curled up into a little ball, probably cold.

“Jackson, stand up,” Ellery ordered, and like a surprised cat, Jackson’s long body uncoiled. He rose to his feet in a giant splang and windmilled his arms with his eyes at half-mast.

Ellery ripped the covers back. “Now lie down again.”

He collapsed like a marionette with a cut string, resuming his curl with disgruntled, catlike movements until he gradually grew still.

Ellery tucked the blanket around his chin, relieved to see his eyes had gone back to fully closed.

“Evil man,” Jackson mumbled. “I’ve got a heart condition, you know.”

“It was either that or go out and get extra blankets so we could cuddle,” Ellery told him, smoothing his hair from his forehead. “I need to hold you tonight.”

Jackson’s eyes finally opened naturally, the sleep still solid under the lids, and he smiled.

“And just like that, my heart is fine.”

Ellery smiled and stood, stripped Mike’s clothes off, and laid them on the dresser to wash in the morning. Outside their bedroom he heard his mother loading the dishwasher and talking to the cats, something about how Billy BobforcedLucifer to run into walls, which Ellery thought was flat-out favoritism. In Jackson’s words, Lucifer did that shit all by himself.

He slid into bed behind Jackson, shuddering as he pulled that miraculous, healing body against his own. He was dimly aware of the door opening, and there was one plop on the bed and then three unsuccessful tries before Ellery reached down with one hand and scooped Lucifer onto the bed as well. Most days he made it fine on his own, but sometimes he needed help.

Just like sometimes even Jackson needed sleep. Ellery tucked his arm under Jackson’s so he could hold him closer, and Jackson laced their fingers together.

“I love you,” Jackson whispered. “So very, very much.”

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