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Peter snorted gently. “I have seen mad things.”He had seen things in the sands that he could not comprehend. He had seen things that would make a man doubt everything he knew.

Peter was certain that without his companions he would never have survived.

And at the count’s castle, all that he had heard…

“I hope your friends still there in London know about these things.”

“If anyone does, it’s Clark.” And Jeb had experienced afreets in the desert sands long before their trip to Egypt together.

“The count is a beast—violent and soulless.” Yvgeny sounded so sad.

“Well, then, we must remove him from the world.” That was all there was to it. The count could not be.

Yvgeny touched his shoulder. “Yes. Now.”

He nodded, watching Don sleep. Somehow, he knew this was their destiny, and he wondered, not for the first time, if the mysterious benefactor Grant had something to do with their involvement. It wouldn’t surprise him.

Of all of them, Clark probably knew Grant best. Don hadn’t ever met him and wasn’t clear about whether Douglas had.

Jeb swore he’d never seen the man, and to Peter, he was a shadowy figure of myth. Maybe he was a figment of Clark’s imagination. It was plausible.

The letters and more could come from Clark. He would advance the theory to Don and Douglas and see if they laughed or frowned.

He wasn’t sure which way he hoped he saw, to be honest.

“Rest, Peter. Sit with your Donnie and sleep. We’re sheltered here. I’ll wake you when the carts are coming around.”

“Thank you, Yvgeny. You’re a comfort.”

“I am your friend. We are brothers now.”

“We are.” He pressed a hand to Yvgeny’s arm, then moved to sit by Don, on the opposite side from Douglas. He pulled his coats tight around him. He had been through the nighttime and come out with little but his own clothes.

Still, he was alive and whole and with the man he loved.

Things could definitely be worse.

Thirteen

Donnie woke to find Peter talking to that new man again, like they were close. He didn’t like it. He didn’t understand it. At all.

Yvgeny seemed fine, but Peter was his. His lover. He wasn’t going to give him up.

The burst of angry jealousy surprised him, and he blinked. Peter might have left him to find his fortune, but he was not untrue, and Donnie knew it.

In fact, Peter never touched Yvgeny, never seemed to break outside the circle that surrounded Peter’s heart.

He took one deep breath, then another. “Where are we?”

“About to dock. Then we just have to go by rail from Dover?”

“Yes.” He groaned, so stiff.

Peter met his eyes. “I regretted leaving from the moment I did it. I will make it up to you.”

Donnie blinked, the sting of tears needing to be pushed away. His emotions were all over the place. “Thank you, love. I think I needed you to say it.”

“Well, there I have.” Peter gave him a smile that only trembled a bit.