Page 10 of Guiding Desire
It did the trick too. Orrey lowered his chin in subtle submission, turned, and hurried out of the office so fast not even Senlas had to measure his longer strides.
“This is all a misunderstanding, and I’m really sorry, but I’m sure we can clear it all up,” Orrey said once they were out of earshot of the others.
“Everything’ll clear up. We’re going to take another drive now. Do you mind?”
Orrey’s jaw tightened as he looked up at Senlas. “To the protector branch?”
“Not exactly.” Senlas wanted to pinch his nose, but forced the urge down. “But it’s the first day of Covenant Week, and my appearance at the parade was cut short. Do you think you can indulge me for now?”
Treats. Senlas’s aunt had liked using treats and gentle coaxing to manage horn cats. Not that indirectly saying Orrey had ruined some stupid parade was a treat, but Senlas had learned to make do with what he had at his disposal.
“Of course, Guardian Warrak,” the former protector said.
Maybe he really thinks this was all a prank, Senlas said. His aunt had also used mild sedatives for some of the more difficult pets, but Senlas absolutely didn’t want that.
He glanced at the back of his hand, unmarked now thanks to his S-classer healing. He was bracing, just in case.
4
ORREY
Orreytriedtowatchthe Guardian in the vehicle’s driver seat without appearing to watch him. The man had an intensity about him Orrey didn’t know what to do with, and the more he looked at those blue eyes, the more he felt they saw everything, and in much too sharp focus.
Of course some of that might have been Orrey’s imagination, brought on by his pounding headache he tried to endure without groaning, or his neck, which stung as if fire beetles had built a nest there. The headache was starting to radiate to the rest of his body too, and Orrey was looking forward to the day being over, to being back home, lying down on his bed and streaming something with mild sound effects and minimal plot.
This had to be something Guardians did sometimes, pick people up, tell them their abilities awakened late, drag them off, give them the runaround. Orrey wondered if he’d get treated to a meal, not that his headache made him eager for food.
Guardians did take regulars out for meals though. They dated regulars, even built family unions with them. It wasn’t a very frequent occurrence, but it happened. Orrey told himself that this kind of thing was in all likelihood a Guardian Parade type of hijinks he’d gotten on the receiving end of by his sheer inability to handle a parasol thrust at him.
“You okay over there?” the Guardian asked.
“Fine, thank you,” Orrey said, meaning none of it.
“We’re nearly there.”
Orrey looked out the windshield, which incidentally showed a newsflicker about today turning out to be the hottest day of the month. When they parted ways, Orrey would have to thank the Guardian for saving him from having to stand out there in that heat for any longer than he already had.
The Guardian turned the wheel, and they went down into the garage of a residential building.
Sun shadows spun patterns in front of Orrey’s eyes as he slowly, slowly adjusted to the darkness. G&C Central had been very brightly lit. This place was much tamer, less official and important looking. Of course it wasn’t on the Grounds.
“Pardon my asking, but where are we?” Orrey said.
The Guardian very neatly pulled into a parking spot without having to make any adjustments. If his head hadn’t been pounding, Orrey would have admired that. As a protector, he’d learned to drive a vehicle, but he’d never gotten to that level of parking skill.
The Guardian hit the center dash’s control to turn the engine off, though the windscreen remained active while the passengers were still in their seats. Orrey’s uniform felt very tight all of a sudden, and when the Guardian turned his head and looked at Orrey, the intense gaze made Orrey sweat as if he were right back outside, standing under the burning sun and watching Guardian chasers with their weapons-grade parasols.
“I don’t want you to panic,” the Guardian said.
“They teach us not to say that when someone is injured or distressed. It’s covered in the first lesson of Victim Interaction,” Orrey said, remembered who he was speaking to, and added, “Sorry, Guardian.”
The Guardian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Call me Senlas. Sen if you want. Never took that Victim Interaction class, but point taken. This is my place. We’re at my place. We’ll go up now, get you hydrated, have a chat.”
Orrey had only been doing his job for a little over a year, meaning he lacked experience. He was aware of that, which was why he’d read old case reports, had learned about cases older colleagues remembered and had told him about. He was good at studying and memorizing facts.
Which was why this reminded him of scammers who’d invited wealthy and influential youths to “Guardian Parties.” Guardian Senlas was a Guardian, Orrey didn’t doubt that, but maybe there was another kind of fun Guardians wanted, maybe picking up protectors and random strangers during Covenant Week was a way to celebrate for them. Maybe they kept score.
Orrey wouldn’t begrudge that, but he wasn’t up for it, so he said, “I’m not really interested in having sex with you, Guardian Senlas. Even if you ask nicely. If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll check in with my supervisor now.”
