Page 123 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“Most every night.”
Suuzu fussed at the edges of their bed with a long, slender beak, warbling softly.
Argent batted away feathers, for Suuzu’s trailing tail threatened to billow over the bed. The phoenix made a soft clucking sound, which could have been scolding or birdlike laughter.
Akira grinned at Argent. “You could get comfy, too, you know.”
“He wouldn’t fit,” said Tsumiko.
But Argent’s tails appeared in a flourish of white-tipped silver.
Her little brother whistled appreciatively, and Suuzu trilled.
“Show off,” whispered Tsumiko.
Argent’s brows arched, and he said, “Sleep. Now.”
Tsumiko did try. But a jittery, chattering restlessness kept her from relaxing enough to drift off. No one else seemed to be having the same trouble. Surrounded by the hush of steady breathing, she reached from the bed to brush Argent’s shoulder.
He turned and caught her hand. “What do you need?” he asked softly.
She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know what to ask for.”
“Then allow me to be generous.” Argent spared a glance for the boys and their nest, then eased up onto the bed with her, the baby between. “Your light has ebbed and needs tending. Take strength from me.”
He was offering to tend her? The way Brynn Fallowfield had tended Kyoko? Was that really what she needed right now? Tsumiko was intrigued, but an even more basic question remained. “How?”
Argent slid closer, pulling her against his shoulder, his free hand resting lightly on the baby. He asked, “How do you tend to me?”
“When we touch, there’s a tug,” she said. “Then I flow into your empty places until they’re full.”
“Well then,” he said. “When we touch, pull me into your empty places until you are satisfied.”
Tsumiko asked, “Am I empty?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m … not sure,” she admitted.
“You have spent much of yourself.” Argent stroked her hair. “You shone brightly so this child could live. You have been tending him, and you sustained me during our escape. You may be a beacon, but your reserves are not fathomless.”
So there was an end to the reservoir.
“Take from me.” Argent took her hand and moved it to his blaze. “Let me tend you, for my reserves are teeming over, and your lack displeases me.”
Once again, she asked, “How?”
“If you cannot figure it out, I daresay none will.”
She pressed her palm to his chest, much as she had done the day they were bound. Only this time, Argent’s hand covered hers, and she responded to his warmth with an overflow of affection.
“Tsk. Generosity will be the end of you.” He tapped her nose as if she were a naughty puppy. “Thatwas giving. Nowtake.”
She struggled to understand what to do with the vast store of power laid before her. If she were thirsty, she would drink. If she were hungry, she would eat. Those things were so basic, they came naturally to anyone, even to a suckling child. But how did an Amaranthine take when a reaver tended?
“Argent, I think I need to … umm.” Her gaze fixed on his lips.
“How very traditional of you,” he said, nestling closer. “As you like, my lady.”
