Twists and Turns

Twists and Turns by Stevie Woods

Torquere Press www.torquerepress.com

Copyright ©2009 by Stevie Woods First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2009 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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CONTENTS Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine ****

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Chapter One Crispin rested his chin in his hand as he let his gaze wash over Zeke. There was much to admire in his sparkling hazel eyes and gold streaked brown hair, his long neck and wide shoulders. Crispin had thoroughly enjoyed exploring the beautiful body that was presently hidden by Zeke's clothing. Though, watching Zeke across the breakfast table, Crispin couldn't help but be a little concerned by his new lover's distraction. New lover ... It was almost impossible to believe they had only met the night before, and a man who had been stranger when Crispin had found him under the wheels of his carriage, was now the most important person in his life. Yet, when they had awoken that morning, Crispin couldn't help that his first thought had been a very real fear, but Zeke had quickly dispelled Crispin's concern that their coupling of the night before would be only a one time event. Crispin had fallen fast and hard for the handsome stranger, and he couldn't bear the thought that Zeke might have wanted to continue his journey to meet the man his father wished him to marry. However, Zeke had convinced him in a most delicious way that Crispin was the only partner he wanted. So, why was Zeke so distracted now? With sudden insight, Crispin asked, "Is it your father that's worrying you?" Zeke glanced up at Crispin, and immediately he flushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Crispin. I was so busy thinking about my 4

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problem that I shut you out. I should have realized how it might be unsettling for you." Crispin shook his head. "I wonder if I'll ever get used to you knowing how I feel all the time," he said. Zeke smiled. "Clearly not all the time. And, to answer your question, yes I was thinking about how my father will react to my returning home instead of being half way across the county meeting my prospective partner." He reached out and took Crispin's hand. "Instead I'll be bringing home with me the man I shall share my life with." Crispin held on to Zeke, unable to help grimacing as he replied. "Yes, a nobody as opposed to the heir to a great fortune. I wish I had more to offer, something your father would approve of." "You're not a nobody, Crispin. You are the most important person in my life." He shrugged, cocking his head to one side, and added, "And if my father can't be happy for me, can't put my feelings above his avarice, then he doesn't care for me as much as you do." "Can't you read your family members as easily as you do me?" Crispin asked curiously. "I told you I've never been able to sense anyone as clearly as I do you." Zeke smiled. "I have to keep my barriers raised, or you would overwhelm me at the most inconvenient times." Crispin blushed as Zeke continued. "Most of my family I can sense as readily as most of the general population, but my father has always been something of a mystery to me. He is the only person who can shield his feelings from me. He has a similar ability to mine, in that his gift is linked to emotions, 5

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but while he cannot sense feelings to the extent I can, he does have the ability to affect others' emotions." "So you don't really know the strength of his feelings for you?" Crispin frowned but didn't say anything else, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't hide anything from Zeke. "Ask the question, Crispin," Zeke said gently. "What question?" Crispin prevaricated. "I don't know what question precisely; I only know there is something you are struggling not to ask me. We will have no secrets, Crispin. Agreed?" Crispin sighed. "You're going to make life so hard," he said. Zeke laughed. "The question." "Very well. So you don't really know how much your father cares about you?" Zeke's smile faded a little. "He seems to vacillate between being proud of me and frustrated. I know my sexual tastes disappointed him, not that he ever said anything unkind to me, but he seemed to withdraw somewhat, though as time passed, things returned to normal. Well, as normal as they ever were between us," he sighed. "And when the merger with Pergrill Industries was suggested?" "I've never been particularly interested in the family business, another point of contention between my father and me," Zeke admitted. "My interests lie in the world of art." Zeke stopped staring wide-eyed at Crispin. "Gods, I never even told you about that, did I?" 6

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Crispin smiled and shook his head. "I think we had other things to think about." Zeke smiled and leaned across the table to meet Crispin halfway where they shared an all-too quick kiss. "Now, don't distract me," Zeke said, sitting back in his chair. "I'm a sculptor. At least I like to think I am, and I guess others think I might be as I have my first exhibition shortly. I paint a little too." "Oh, how wonderful," Crispin enthused. "You must show me your work. I always wished I had talent, but I don't have an artistic bone in my body." "Oh, you have a very artistic body," Zeke said slowly. "The things I could do with paint and your body as a canvas." "Oh, gods," Crispin breathed. "You're so beautiful, Crispin. I really do want to paint you. All of you. Have you any idea how striking you are? That black hair flowing about your shoulders and those penetrating eyes. I don't think I've ever seen eyes such a dark gray before. They draw me in—" "Now who is sidetracking the conversation?" Zeke grinned. "Very well, but we must ... explore that subject again later." Crispin flushed as his heart rate sped up. Last night had been wonderful, but he sensed his future was going to get even more interesting. "But, what are we going to do about your father?" Crispin said pointedly. "Face the music," Zeke decided. "It won't do any good to put off the inevitable. The sooner I tell him I'm not going to 7

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marry Kiel Pergrill, the sooner he can find another way to pull off the merger." "But what if there is no other way? What if without the marriage the merger collapses?" "Then it collapses. Whatever happens, I'm not giving you up, Crispin. Not for anything or anyone." Crispin was up and moving around the table before he even realized it and Zeke met him halfway. Instantly they were wrapped in each other's arms, lips crushed together. Zeke's tongue brushed over Crispin's lower lip, and he willingly opened up to allow Zeke entrance. Crispin melted into his lover's embrace as Zeke's tongue tasted every surface in his mouth, and his body pressed even closer as they moved toward the bedroom. Zeke's erection rubbed against Crispin's thigh, and Crispin edged Zeke back against the dresser behind him. Crispin's hands were fumbling at the fastenings of Zeke's pants, and then he felt Zeke working at the opening of his pants, too. Almost simultaneously both garments slid down to pool at their feet, and Crispin reached for Zeke's erection, sighing as he felt the warm, silken flesh covering the hardness. Zeke grasped his length, too, and Crispin gasped as he felt Zeke bring their cocks together. Soon their hands worked in unison, sliding, twisting, and pulling. The pre-come leaking from each of them eased the movements, and Crispin leaned his forehead against Zeke's. They both watched as their hands moved together, driving them both higher and higher. 8

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Suddenly Zeke grabbed Crispin by the nape of his neck, pulling him close. Forcing his mouth open, Zeke's tongue darted inside to wrap around Crispin's, sliding and twisting in concert with their hands, faster and faster. They broke apart with a gasp and a cry as first Crispin, and then Zeke, climaxed, shooting over their joined hands and stomachs. "Oh, gods, Zeke, love you, love you," Crispin murmured against Zeke's neck where he'd collapsed. "I know," Zeke whispered against his hair. "I can feel it. I love you too, Crispin. So much." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Two A little over an hour later they were inside Crispin's carriage and heading back toward the city. Zeke's intention was to stop at the first village on the way to arrange for his damaged carriage to be collected and repaired, if possible, and for the body of his poor horse to be disposed of. Then they intended to keep going until they reached Zeke's home in the fashionable part of the city. Neither of them was much looking forward to the meeting with Zeke's father, but it wasn't something that could be avoided. Zeke hadn't told Crispin, but he believed it was a distinct possibility that his father would disown him. He knew how important his father felt this merger with Pergrill Industries was, and Zeke knew his father—whose own marriage to his Zeke's mother had been an arranged match—would view his decision to throw the merger over in favor of marriage with Crispin. "Zeke?" For a moment Zeke thought Crispin somehow knew what he was thinking, but then he sensed that Crispin was puzzled rather than upset or angry. "Yes?" "I'm still concerned why you were sent the wrong way to Mariton, and by whom." "It doesn't matter, it wouldn't have done much harm either way. The worse that would have happened is that I would've been delayed." "Maybe, but someone had a reason to misdirect you." 10

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"It was probably just a mistake." "You really think so?" "I do. I sensed no duplicity in the man. Look, Crispin, forget it. As far as I'm concerned it was fortuitous." "It was." Crispin's quick smile faded as he added, "Yet, something feels wrong." They were approaching the crossroads where the narrow road from Crispin's cottage joined the main road into the city and, though Crispin's attention appeared to be on driving, Zeke was suddenly overwhelmed by a rising sense of misgiving coming from his lover. Wanting to somehow calm Crispin, Zeke prepared to speak, but a sharp voice cut across him and a man suddenly appeared in the road a little way ahead. "Hold!" he shouted and, to emphasize his demand, the man snapped his fingers as a thunderclap of noise reverberated around the vehicle. The horses shied and reared at the sudden sound, and the situation wasn't helped by the abrupt appearance of two more men in the road, one on either side of the carriage. Crispin was forced to concentrate on the struggle to hold the animals steady, and Zeke tensed beside him, staring at the wellarmed men, one of whom had now grabbed the horses' reins. Zeke was hoping that, whoever these men were, the presumed leader's manipulation of sound waves was their only power. That was one of the frustrating things about energy control—there was no outward sign and, therefore, no way to tell if a person had such influence, or if they did, how their power was personified. Of course, that also meant that 11

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whoever these men were, they wouldn't know of his and Crispin's power—unless they knew exactly who they had stopped. Was it possible? Had Crispin been right all along? That it hadn't been a mistake, that someone had indeed been trying to stop him reaching his destination? Feeling something of a fool, Zeke spared a quick glance at Crispin, who instantly met his lover's eyes for a split second before facing front again. He sensed Crispin's unease and surreptitiously squeezed his hand on the seat beside him, silently reminding him that together they were strong. Crispin returned the gentle squeeze but, like Zeke, he didn't take his eyes from the men in their path. Silently Zeke reached out, searching for Crispin's energy so they could join and merge their not-inconsiderable power. Immediately he felt the surge within him, and with it came Crispin's certainty, in himself and in Zeke. His lover's faith washed over him in the same way the rush of power had, and it made Zeke feel stronger than he ever had at any time in his life. The leader stepped toward the carriage, his eyes darting from one man to the other, finally settling on Zeke. "Climb down, Van Zant. Your companion won't be harmed." "What do you want with him?" Crispin demanded. "None of your concern!" one of the other men snapped back. "Keep out of it if you don't want to get hurt," the leader said, his eyes still on Zeke. "Van Zant?"

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Zeke murmured to Crispin, "I've seen that one before, the one on the left." Crispin nodded but didn't reply. "And I'm damned if I know how he fooled me," Zeke added resentfully. "He's not going anywhere," Crispin declared. The man nearest to Crispin snarled and raised his long blade as if to swing it at Crispin. The fact that their attacker resorted to physical violence was a fair indication that he had no power on which to draw. Zeke felt his lover's control tighten, and a wash of emotion came through their link—relief swiftly followed by anger. Zeke knew Crispin was going to act, and he sent all his energy to join with Crispin's under his control. Crispin seized Zeke's hand at the same time as he sent out a jolt of energy in a sphere centering on their position. If the noise made by their attacker had been loud before, that was as nothing compared to the cacophony of sound that shattered the tranquility of the morning. Accompanying the noise was a rolling wave of motion, gathering speed as it spread out. All three assailants had no chance to escape and were sent flying across the road. Zeke and Crispin leapt out of the carriage and onto the road. It took no more than a second to understand that one of the men was dead. The shockwave had slammed him into a large tree and from the angle at which his head lay, he had broken his neck. While Crispin made for the downed leader, Zeke ran toward the third man, the man who had given him false directions. He had been catapulted over a low hedge into the plowed field beyond. He scrambled to his feet, fear 13

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written large over his features as he saw Zeke barreling toward him. "Leave him, Zeke," Crispin called harshly. "I have the one that matters." Zeke slid to a halt. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Crispin had an arm around the neck of the leader of the small group. By the look on his face, it was clear that Crispin would happily snap the man's neck. With one last look at the fleeing man, Zeke turned back to join Crispin. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Three Crispin forced himself to hold steady. He would not consider it amiss to destroy this man who had threatened his love. He sensed Zeke would not see matters in that simple a light. He couldn't help but wonder what Zeke would think if the man read his emotions at that moment. Raising his eyes, Crispin met his lover's gaze and thought perhaps it was too late. Yet he could not regret his protective streak. "Crispin?" Zeke queried, but Crispin cut off anything else he would have said. "I sense something, Zeke. Can you read him?" "Just a moment ... Yes, he is..." Zeke stopped speaking and his eyes narrowed as he stared at the prisoner. Crispin didn't know exactly what Zeke was doing; he realized that they hadn't really discussed their abilities in any great detail. They had been too busy falling in love. Zeke relaxed, taking a deep breath. He glanced at Crispin. "You were right. He was trying to draw on his energy. He is weak from our attack but still he was gathering his strength. I have blanketed it for the time being." Crispin decided he and Zeke would need to have a talk later. Right now they had more important things to do, beginning with immobilizing their prisoner as best they could. Zeke may be strong enough to keep the man controlled, but Crispin was in no position to trust that just yet. "Get me some rope, Zeke." Crispin dragged the struggling, snarling man toward the carriage. Zeke brought him a coil of 15

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rope and the prisoner was swiftly and efficiently tied up. The man's gaze flicked from Crispin and Zeke and back to Crispin again. It seemed he recognized that Crispin was the greatest threat. "What's your name?" Crispin asked the prisoner. "It doesn't matter," the man said stubbornly. "That isn't for you to decide." The man stubbornly kept his mouth shut and Crispin decided to let that go for now. "Who sent you after Van Zant, and why?" This time he didn't say anything, just shook his head. "You'd better answer. I'm at the end of my patience," Crispin said. He glanced at Zeke whose attention was wholly on the prisoner, probably ensuring whatever powers he had were tightly shielded. "You have seen only a fraction of our power and already one of your men is dead." Zeke raised his eyes at that, frowning a little. Crispin ignored him. If Zeke didn't know how far Crispin would go to protect him, then he was about to find out. "You will answer my questions, or I will demonstrate how I can make you talk." "He's trying ... to fight ... my control," Zeke muttered. Crispin glanced at him, but Zeke continued, "Don't worry, I can handle him." More determined than ever, Crispin lifted his hand and opened his closed fist. Floating just above his palm was a tiny ball of fire. His eyes gazing steadily on the captive, Crispin manipulated the fireball and it danced within the palm of his hand, spinning and flipping, all the time slowly growing in 16

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size. He was aware of Zeke's tension; all he'd seen Crispin do so far with flame was zap a fire and light a torch. This was something different. As the fireball reached the size of an apple, Crispin sent it zipping across to the other side of the road where it slammed into a tree, which promptly exploded in an impressive shower of sparks, flames licking at the trunk. Lazily, Crispin flicked his wrist and a blast of cold air whipped up around the tree blowing out the flames. The man watched, seemingly fascinated, yet not afraid. Abruptly the captive looked into Crispin's face and said, "You won't use something like that on me or you won't get any answers." Crispin opened his palm again and another small fireball appeared, but this time it didn't increase in size. "Depends what I decide to do with it," Crispin said coldly, his eyes shifting over the man's form as he half-sat, half-lay on the ground by the carriage wheel. "I need to know who wants to harm my friend and why. You have a count of ten to answer." Crispin began to count down steadily. The man stared at him belligerently, and Crispin recognized he doubted Crispin's resolve. He shouldn't have. As he reached zero, Crispin released the tiny fireball and it flew straight at the prisoner's upper right arm, igniting his clothing. A piercing scream rent the air. Simultaneously, Zeke shouted, "Crispin!" Crispin ignored his lover's call, but instantly extinguished the fire. "That could have been a lot worse; I was being reasonable," Crispin calmly told the prisoner, who was 17

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crouched over gasping in pain. He could do little else with his wrists tied behind his back. "Give me a name, and I will ease the pain," Crispin declared. "Simonston, Willard Simonston hired us," the man gasped. "Simonston?" Zeke sounded shocked. "Why would...?" He stopped, shaking his head. Zeke's reaction to the name helped to convince Crispin that the man was telling the truth, and he manipulated the heat in the prisoner's arm, cooling it down immediately. It would suffice for the time being; proper healing would have to wait. "Tell us everything," Crispin ordered. **** Zeke had been stunned at the lengths to which Crispin was prepared to go, but putting out a feeler into his lover's emotions, he understood. Crispin's anger was fueled by his fear and a need to protect, every emotion linked to his deep connection to Zeke. Zeke was not exactly sure how he felt about that. Of course he felt deep pleasure at Crispin's attachment to him, which began almost from the moment they had met, but still he was overwhelmed that the depth of Crispin's feelings resulted in how much he would risk on Zeke's behalf. As an upshot, Zeke felt responsible for the consequences—and ultimately responsible for Crispin's actions, though he knew Crispin would never accept that. However, Zeke couldn't deny that he desperately wanted to know what was going on, what would make Simonston goes to such lengths to hurt him. To take him captive. 18

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"My name is Givens, and Simonston hired me and my two mates to waylay Ezekial Van Zant," the captive began. "Waylay?" Crispin asked suspiciously. Givens looked up at Zeke and shrugged. "He wasn't specific, just said we were to do whatever it took to make sure he never reached the Pergrill estate at Mariton, so Barty gave you false directions." Zeke narrowed his eyes; sometimes it was too easy. "He's keeping stuff back, Crispin. There's more." Crispin gripped the man's injured arm and growled, "Everything, I said." Grumbling to himself about the stupidity of not being told when a mark was that gifted, Givens continued. "Simonston did emphasize the word never, and as he was paying us good, I was pretty certain what he really wanted. After Barty set Van Zant on the wrong path, we took a shortcut to make sure we got ahead of him and lay in wait for him." "You meant to kill him?" Crispin sounded calm, but Zeke could sense his churning emotions. Givens just shrugged. Zeke said, "It's just a job to him, he has no compunction about doing whatever he has to." "So what went wrong?" Crispin pushed. "He never arrived where we had set up our ambush," Givens said, looking at Zeke as he spoke to Crispin. "We waited long past the time he should have arrived, almost until dawn, then we back-tracked along the road and found signs of the accident. Thought at first he'd saved us the trouble, only he wasn't there. We found trace of another vehicle and 19

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followed it to your place. It wasn't clear how many might be inside, so we waited." "And planned another ambush," Crispin said. "Now what?" Givens asked. His voice was belligerent, but Zeke knew he was attempting to hide his fear. "You've told us the how; now we need to know the why," Crispin said. "You'd have to ask Simonston about that," Givens replied. Crispin didn't answer, but the intent look he gave had Givens squirming under the scrutiny. Crispin turned to Zeke. "You believe him?" "No," Zeke said intently, "he knows something more." "I think that even if Simonston didn't tell you his reason, you know it anyway," Crispin told Givens. "Do I need to give another demonstration?" "NO, no." Givens sighed. "You two are good. You ever need to make good money..." "Spit it out!" Crispin demanded. "I'm a professional; I learn everything I need to know about a job, even stuff that the principal doesn't want me to know. Simonston was pushing for a take-over of Pergrill Industries and things were going well. Then suddenly Van Zant was there proposing a full merger with Pergrill's, throwing his son into the mix to seal the deal with a marriage. Simonston couldn't match that if he wanted; his only child, a daughter, is already married, but then he didn't want just a merger, he wanted full control. He needed Van Zant out of the picture, but he couldn't fight the man squarely; he didn't have the clout so he wanted to force the man to withdraw. He 20

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wanted to hit Van Zant where it really hurt. Take out the son." "Bastard!" Crispin growled. Zeke should have been shocked, but instead he felt only rage. It took him a moment to understand it was Crispin's emotions he was feeling, so strong that they swamped his own. He pushed Crispin's feelings to one side, allowing his own free rein, and was almost surprised to discover he only felt numb. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Four Crispin laid his hand on Zeke's arm, and he was surprised when Zeke jumped at the touch, jerking away. "Zeke?" Zeke blew out a breath. "Sorry, I was sorting through ... the feelings." Crispin regarded him. "Whose feelings?" he asked gently. Zeke raised his eyebrows, and Crispin smiled. "I might not have your talent for sensing others' emotions, but I know you and you're trying to come to terms with what you've learned. And it's not easy for you to accept that someone would want you dead, not for something as trivial as financial gain." "And power, Crispin, don't forget the power. I think Simonston is more interested in power than anything. He's not unlike my father in that." Zeke frowned. Crispin edged Zeke away from the carriage, away from the prisoner. "Say it, Zeke," Crispin said quietly. "What?" Zeke queried. "Whatever it is that's really bothering you. I know it's not just Simonston." "You sure you can't read my mind?" Zeke groused. Crispin just waited. "It's what he said," Zeke continued, glancing back over his shoulder at Givens. "Hit Van Zant where it really hurts. 'Take out the son,'" he quoted.

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"And what?" Crispin frowned. "You don't think your father would really be hurt if anything happened to you?" Crispin asked, flabbergasted. "The truth is, I don't know. And isn't that an indictment in its own right?" he said sadly. Zeke shook himself as if to clear his mind of his disquieting thoughts. After a moment he asked Crispin, "What now?" "Now we continue our journey to see your father. I think it's past time you got some answers to your questions. All of them." "And him?" Zeke gestured toward Givens who had been sitting quietly watching them. "Him too. I think it only right that your father decides what should be done about him—and the authorities. I think he should take responsibility for this." "You blame him?" "No, I blame Simonston, but I find it hard to believe your father didn't know that Simonston was also after Pergrill's." "You're angry with my father." Zeke sounded worn out. "You're surprised? I can't help but think he must have known how far someone like Simonston might have been prepared to go. Did he even tell you that he had a competitor?" Zeke's eyes widened as he admitted, "No. He kept a very tight grip on his business empire and, as I said, I wasn't particularly interested anyway. He sent for me one day a couple of weeks ago and told me there was a way for me to make up for my—and I quote—lack of filial duty." Zeke laughed bitterly and grasped Crispin's hand. "He knew I had 23

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never found anyone that captured my heart and told me it was the way the gods had planned it, so I would be free to take a partner that would be of benefit to the family." Crispin understood that Zeke was considering for the first time, at least consciously, that his father's concern hadn't been for "the family" at all. It seemed his first concern was for the Van Zant Foundation, and his son came a poor second. Crispin wanted to take Zeke in his arms and show him how he would never be anything but first and foremost for Crispin, but it wasn't the time or place. Instead, Crispin gripped his lover's hand. "Whatever his reason, his actions sent you to me." Crispin leaned close and kissed Zeke's neck. "I'll show you later how grateful I am for that," he whispered. Zeke turned and swiftly captured Crispin's lips. Releasing him a moment later, he said, "I'll hold you to that. But let's get moving. I want this mess behind us." He smiled, but couldn't disguise the touch of sadness. "I want to go home with you." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Five There had always been a kind of polite distance between Zeke and his father. Miles Van Zant was not the kind of man to display his emotional need, not even to his family. It was something Zeke had become used to as he grew up, and yet now, for the first time, Zeke felt uncomfortable at the prospect of being in his father's presence. A presentiment that proved far too true. When he and Crispin arrived at his home dragging their prisoner in tow, Zeke's mother was shocked and upset at his hasty explanation of his accident the night before and then the morning's attack. His father, however, simply appeared angry. What really bothered Zeke was that it seemed his father's anger was directed at him, and not at their captive. As they had not yet had a chance to properly explain the situation, Zeke couldn't for the life of him understand why his father would be angry at him. Zeke could sense his mother's confusion and concern, as easily as he could Crispin's disquiet but, as usual, his father's mood was a complete mystery. The only guide he had to his father's state of mind was his manner and the expression on his face. For a man whose natural inclination was to trust his empathy with others, the very emptiness he felt from his father was very disconcerting. "Dimond!" Miles Van Zant called for his chevalier, and the man appeared instantly, presumably having been waiting outside for the order he knew would soon be forthcoming. 25

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Dimond had opened the door on their arrival, and his eyebrows had climbed dramatically at the sight of the firmlybound prisoner. Miles indicated Givens and ordered sharply, "Take charge of this man. He is to be kept under close guard until I decide what is to be done with him." Dimond nodded respectfully, grasped Givens' upper arm, and dragged him out of the room, the prisoner grumbling consistently. "You can't just lock me up; you don't have the right!" Givens shouted as he was ushered out the door. He shot a look at Zeke. "Don't leave me with him!" Anything else he might have said was cut off as the door closed. Without looking at his son, Miles strode away, tossing over his shoulder, "My office now, Ezekial, and bring your new friend." His tone left no doubt that it was an order. With a quick glance at Crispin, and the reassuring sense of his lover's belief in him, Zeke followed his father into the next room. Miles waited until they both walked in, and then closed the door firmly, shutting Zeke's mother out. Zeke caught sight of her troubled face just before the door separated them. His father never considered his office a fit place for his wife to attend, or his business dealings any concern of hers. Ignoring Zeke for a moment, Miles turned to Crispin, giving him a thorough once over that Zeke felt bordered on the insulting. His gaze lingered pointedly on the simple clothes and lack of jewelry. In comparison, Miles lit up the room as the sun caught the gold of his buttons and pins and the chain of his watch. 26

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Without a word to his son's guest, he leaned back against his desk and turned to Zeke. "If I understood that garbled explanation, you never reached Mariton. Tell me exactly what happened, full details please." Zeke indicated that Crispin should sit, and took the other chair facing his father's desk before he proceeded to do as his father wanted. He told him everything, except for the connection he had discovered with Crispin or the relationship that had developed so quickly. That would come later. It was obvious from Miles' changing expression during the description that he was angry and suspicious. Watching his father as he spoke, Zeke was curious as what his reaction was going to be, and he was most unsettled as he realized that his father was not surprised by Simonston's involvement with the whole affair. Abruptly, Miles turned to Crispin. "And who exactly are you and how was it you just happened to be on that road just at the right time?" "Father!" Zeke was appalled at the implication. He hadn't expected his father to turn on Crispin, but he supposed he ought to have. Crispin, however, kept calm and simply replied, "I am Crispin Valoir, and I am not anyone you would consider important. I just happened to be on that road because I was on my way to my cottage a few miles further on. I, for one, am grateful that my appearance was at, what you term, the right time." "As am I," Zeke added quietly. "I could have died there." 27

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Miles said nothing for what seemed a long time but couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Then he casually turned his back on Crispin, effectively dismissing him as he spoke to Zeke. "You need not worry about Simonston any more; he will be no further threat to you. I will deal with him. You may rest today, but you must recommence your interrupted journey and meet with Kiel Pergrill and his father tomorrow. I will send a messenger to explain the delay." He moved behind the large desk, sat down and reached for a sheet of thick paper. It was obvious that as far as he was concerned the interview was over. Zeke got up and stood behind Crispin's chair. The intensity of his lover's emotions washed over him, giving him the strength and confidence to speak. "No, father. I am not going to meet with Kiel Pergrill tomorrow or any other time. I'm sorry if it spoils your plans, but I have a different future in mind." He took a deep breath. "I am going to marry Crispin." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Six Crispin was proud of Zeke as he spoke firmly to his father. During their journey, considering Zeke's description of his father, Crispin had been doubtful about his reaction to the man and, almost immediately on entering the house, his worst fears had been confirmed. Miles Van Zant was overbearing and manipulative, and his attitude to, and treatment of, Zeke infuriated him. His opinion of Crispin was pretty obvious too, which from, Crispin's point of view, only proved how shallow the man's thinking actually was. He'd judged Crispin without any evidence whatever. While it was true there had been little in Zeke's story to give any hint of Crispin's background, what there had been should surely have been seen as positive to the Miles Van Zant? However, apparently not. So Miles' reaction to Zeke's declaration hardly came as a surprise. The man leapt to his feet, disbelief painted on his face. "You are what!" He moved around the desk to stand directly in front of Zeke, intimidation in every line of his stance. "I don't know how you dare make such a statement." His eyes flicked to Crispin. "You've only known this man for less than twentyfour hours, and you expect me to abandon all my plans for your future." "I don't expect you to do anything, Father. The decision is mine to make, and I have made it. It took a lot less than one hour for me to know this man and to recognize that he is my 29

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future. He loves me, and I love him. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him." It was hard for Crispin to keep his thoughts to himself, but he knew it was important for Zeke to handle his father. Important for both of them. However, Miles did not exercise any such restraint and twisted to face Crispin, anger making him appear ugly. "You are in the sway of Simonston, I knew it. Admit it! Tell me what you have used on my son. You knew of his gift and have somehow manipulated him." He advanced on Crispin, eyes hard as he stared down at him. "Whatever Simonston is paying you I will double it. Release him. Now." Crispin got to his feet and Zeke stepped closer to him, eyes full of contempt for his father. "I had never heard of Simonston until Givens' confession," Crispin protested. "The only power I have over your son is that I love him, and that I will never give up. Even if he were to send me away I would still love him." "You have no right to make such accusations," Zeke told his father. "If you have any trust in my gift, you should know I can sense deception immediately. And Crispin, more than anyone, could never fool me. I have never been able to read anyone the way I can read him." Miles looked disparagingly at his son. "I can fool you." "No, Father, you don't fool me, and neither can you influence my thinking, although I'm sure you have tried. You simply block me. And it makes me wonder what it is you are afraid I would be able to sense in you." There was a touch of 30

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disquiet in Zeke's voice, and Crispin wondered if that was the first time such a thought had occurred to Zeke. On the surface Miles didn't react to his son's statements, but Crispin noted the way his mouth thinned and his eyes hardened. This man didn't like being challenged, perhaps least of all by his own son. Slowly he straightened, turned and walked back to sit behind his desk. He raised his eyes and looked directly at Zeke. "If you go through with this you will receive no further support from me. You will be on your own, Ezekial." Miles turned to Crispin, an unpleasant smile on his face. "Everything he has is provided by me." There was a challenge in his expression as much as in his words. "Including the house where he lives. I offered him an opportunity to earn his own way by working with me, but he preferred his 'art'." His disparagement was evident as he turned back to his son. "You have nothing that you have earned with your own two hands. You turn your back on me now, and everything stops—today. You will no longer receive your allowance, and I will cease to pay your rent. You will have no income and nowhere to live." Zeke was flushed, and Crispin wasn't sure if it was anger or embarrassment. "It doesn't matter what you say, he is worth..." Crispin interrupted Zeke's declaration. "He will have somewhere to live, Mr. Van Zant: with me. I earn enough to support him while he builds his reputation as an artist."

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Miles laughed, and it was a harsh sound. "His reputation? Have you seen his art? Lumps of clay. Daubs on paper. He's wasted years of his life on his 'art'." "It's not been a waste!" Zeke was angry, upset. "I have an exhibition shortly..." His voice faded and he met Crispin's eyes, and Crispin saw need doubt and need in his expression. Taking hold of Zeke's hand and holding his gaze, Crispin spoke to Miles. "Where is your faith in your son? I trust Zeke's belief in himself a lot more than I trust his father's disparagement. That is love, Mr. Van Zant—something I don't think you've ever demonstrated to your son and something I intend to spend the rest of my life sharing with him." "How dare you tell me that I don't love my son! You don't know me and you hardly know my son." **** "Oh, but he does," Zeke said calmly. Crispin's words had bolstered him. "He knows me better than anyone. Time has nothing to do with it, I knew him the instant we met, father. I don't doubt you love me in your own way, but for you it has to be your way. You have never shown any concern for what matters to me. You would force me to marry a man I don't even know just to further your desires. You're threatening me now because I refuse to submit to your will. He," he said, smiling at Crispin, "will do what I want, what is right for me, because I'm more important to him than anything." He turned back to his father. "I knew even before I came home that you would probably disown me and, while I am sorry, mostly 32

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because of poor mother, it doesn't change a thing. I am sorry, father, but I am leaving with Crispin." Zeke took Crispin's hand again and turned toward the door. He couldn't help listening for some reaction from his father, though he didn't really expect one. It was with surprise therefore that he heard his name spoken softly from behind. He halted, looking over his shoulder at his father. Miles stared back at him and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again and slumped into his chair. Miles' eyes dropped and Zeke knew that was an end to it. Even if his father regretted his decision, he would never admit it. Zeke had it in his heart to feel sorry for him. Zeke turned to the door once more and, opening it, he came face to face with his mother. Zeke doubted that she would have actually heard any words spoken beyond the closed door, but she must have heard their raised voices and known something was amiss. She knew her own husband well enough to know the type of attitude he would most likely adopt. Elena Van Zant was a quiet woman, somewhat under the thumb of her strong-willed husband, but she had always doted on Zeke, and he dreaded her reaction to what he must now tell her. Drawing her away from Miles' study, Zeke gently told her that he was leaving with Crispin, that the marriage and merger with the Pergrill family would never take place because he loved another. And that his father refused to accept his partnership with Crispin. Elena listened carefully and her posture showed she understood only too well what that would mean. She took her 33

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son's hands and looked tenderly into his eyes. "Do you truly love this man?" "More than anything, Mother." She turned to Crispin, studying him for a moment before she spoke. "I trust my son's judgment. His peace of mind means everything to me. You will look after him?" Crispin smiled. "Yes, lady. And I will answer your unasked question. I love him with all that I am, his happiness is my joy." Smiling, she said, "Then I am content. Your father might forbid you to enter this house, but I would be happy if you would allow me to visit you in yours." "Oh, Mother, our door will always be open to you." He kissed his mother, holding her close against his chest. Smiling, he released her. "Not that I know where it is we shall live," Zeke added, with a raised eyebrow at his lover. Laughing, Crispin wrote down his town address and the directions to his cottage. "You are welcome in our home at any time, lady," he added as he handed her the paper. "Thank you; my mind is at rest," Elena said. "Now," Zeke said to Crispin, "show me where we will live in the city." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Seven In no time at all they were back in the carriage, driving at a fast clip down the road, moving to the outskirts of the city. "Goodness!" Zeke suddenly declared. "I just remembered ... Simeon. What about your ex-lover? Surely he could still be in the home you shared?" "Ah no," Crispin said, looking slightly abashed. "I suppose I should have realized long since that his refusal to move in with me permanently was more than just 'wanting his own quiet time'." "You mean you were together three years, but you lived separately?" Zeke was puzzled. "Not all the time. Simeon insisted on keeping his own abode. We always spent a few days each week at my house, but then he would go home for a couple of days. I told him I understood his needs, but the truth was that I didn't. I refused to acknowledge even to myself how much it hurt that he didn't want to spend all his time with me, the way I did with him. I was a fool for far too long," he admitted ruefully. "I'm sorry," Zeke said, his hand rubbing gently along Crispin's thigh. He still found it hard to believe just how much this man had come to mean to him in such a ridiculously short time, but he wouldn't change it for anything—or for anyone. His only regret was his forced separation from his mother. She was loyal to her husband and wouldn't openly cross him, but Zeke knew she would find a way to visit him whenever it was possible. He might have lost his father and 35

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his inheritance but what he had with Crispin outweighed any other consideration. For the first time in his life he was truly happy, and it was humbling to realize he had never even known how empty his life had really been before he had met Crispin. Turning now to the man he sacrificed everything for, he smiled and added, "No, I'm not sorry, not at all. I'm glad you finally realized what a ... an idiot Simeon was and that you chose yesterday to walk away from him." Laying his hand over Zeke's on his leg, Crispin replied, "Yes, me too." Trying to keep his eyes on the road ahead, Crispin still managed to flick a look at Zeke out of the corner of his eye, which had a distinct glint. "Right now all I want to think about is getting you indoors so I can feel the heat of your hand on my bare flesh." Zeke's heart beat a little faster and his fingers tingled where they twined with Crispin's on his leg. The emotions from Crispin were crashing over him in waves, it was exhilarating. "Gods, you make me feel ... I can't put into words ... there are no words for how I feel." "Don't need words, Zeke. I might not have your gift, but I don't need it to know how much you love me." He smiled. "Still, it would be nice if you wanted to show me." Zeke laughed, the pleasure filling every part of him. "I'll think about it." **** The door had hardly closed behind them when Zeke grabbed Crispin and whirled him around until his back was 36

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against the solid wood. He stood with one hand flat against the door either side of Crispin's head, eyes glittering as he stared at his lover. Laughing, Crispin said, "You thought about it, huh?" "Never thought about anything else all the way here," Zeke replied huskily, finally closing the distance between them to press his mouth firmly over Crispin's. Sighing into the kiss, Crispin gripped his shoulders, pulling Zeke's body flush with his. Zeke's cock leapt in appreciation. The kisses he shared with Crispin were so different to those he had shared with any other man. His blood rushed through his veins, making him feel light-headed. He swore he could feel each pulse beneath his skin as it winged its way to his heart, making him feel alive as never before. In the past he had only shared his body; with Crispin he shared his heart and soul. Breaking apart, gasping for breath, Zeke asked, "Where's your bedroom?" Crispin grabbed his hand and strode quickly along the narrow hallway that ran the length of the house, turning to climb the stairs at the end, and soon Crispin was drawing Zeke into his bedroom. Zeke glanced around the cozy room. It wasn't very large, but had a homey, lived-in atmosphere. Zeke liked the way the wood had been stained a dark color contrasting well with the pale yellow Crispin had used for the walls. Crispin went to open the window, allowing in the fresh air tinged with a hint of honeysuckle from somewhere nearby. Zeke couldn't help but smile as his gaze fell on the comfortable-looking large bed 37

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angled across the corner of the room, speckled with the late afternoon light spilling through the fluttering window drapery. Zeke turned to face Crispin to find he was placing a small bottle on the table by the bed. Catching Zeke watching him, Crispin smiled. "In case we need the oil." "Oh, we'll need it." He grinned. In silent accord both men undressed. They began slowly, as if to tease each other, but soon the need built until they all but tore their clothes off. Crispin pulled Zeke close and kissed him again, Zeke sighing in pleasure. Crispin pushed Zeke to fall on the bed behind him. His eyes raked all over his lover's body, and Crispin murmured, "Beautiful," before he clambered up to straddle Zeke, his own cock beginning to leak, the pre-come painting Zeke's belly as Crispin leaned over him. Starting at Zeke's neck, Crispin slowly drew his hands across each shoulder and down Zeke's arms, taking his time to caress each finger. Crispin's attention moved across to Zeke's chest where he laid the flat of his hand over Zeke's heart, feeling its tattoo beat. He flicked his eyes up at his lover's face, encouraged by the flush across his Zeke's cheeks and the flaring of his nostrils. Zeke's eyes were wide and dark as he returned the regard. Zeke gasped as Crispin abruptly mouthed a nipple, his tongue swirling around the hardening nub before he lightly bit it, making Zeke moan. Moving slowly down Zeke's body, Crispin licked and kissed his way to Zeke's navel. 38

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Zeke was trembling, his words panted out between breaths. "Gods, Crispin, don't stop, don't stop. I've never felt like this with anyone else, ever, and you haven't even..." "Not stopping, never stopping loving you," Crispin said gruffly as he smiled at his lover. "Hold on tight; here I come again." Zeke laughed then gasped when Crispin swallowed his cock in one smooth motion. His back arched off the bed, thrusting his length deeper into Crispin's mouth. Crispin pulled back a little, pushing Zeke to lie flat on the bed before again taking Zeke into his mouth. His tongue swirled around Zeke's cock, his teeth lightly grazing the underside as he slowly withdrew, sucking as he did so. "Crispin, Crispin," Zeke muttered over and over as his head tossed from side to side. Crispin continued to tease Zeke's cock with his mouth, while at the same time he palmed Zeke's balls, first one then the other. Zeke moaned, his hands scrabbling at the bedding, blindly reaching for Crispin when he abruptly released his cock. Zeke curled up to see what was happening, panting when Crispin took one of his balls into his mouth. Crispin was looking at Zeke, and their eyes met for a moment before Zeke collapsed back onto the pillows. **** Crispin smiled at the effect he was having on his lover; it was invigorating. He wanted more; gods, he wanted to make Zeke fly. His finger slid behind Zeke's balls, seeking out his tight pucker even as he swallowed Zeke's cock again. He 39

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could feel that Zeke was close—so close—so he stroked across his hole and then pushed one finger inside. Zeke bucked, crying out Crispin's name as he came. Crispin took it all, swallowing every drop and licking Zeke clean. He sat up, watching as Zeke came down from his high. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eight Zeke was drowning in emotion, swimming against the tide of his own bliss and Crispin's joy—and his pride. Zeke could sense just how wonderful Crispin felt at the pleasure he had given his lover. He let the feelings wash over him until he had the strength to build his walls a little higher. Zeke opened his eyes then, to find Crispin sitting back, watching, a wide smile on his face, a heavy cock thrusting from between his legs. Smiling back at him, Zeke said, "You really enjoyed driving me crazy." Crispin grinned, and Zeke added, "You can drive me even more crazy by putting that inside me." He stroked a finger along Crispin's cock. "My pleasure—and I do mean that. I have never experienced such ... Making love with you is the most incredible feeling I have ever had." He pulled Zeke close. "And it is something I want to share with you forever." Their lips met, and Zeke held on tightly. He opened his walls and let himself feel it all and let it seep into his link with his lover. Crispin gasped and pulled back, his eyes wide. Zeke smiled. "I wanted you to feel it, too." "Oh gods, yes. Last night, when I took you, it was as if I could feel an echo of what you were feeling. It's amazing; thank you for sharing it with me ... And you, what must it be like for you?" Crispin's voice had dropped to a whisper. Zeke caressed Crispin's face. "The best part is that I can sense how you feel and it feeds into my emotions and I soar, and then..." He laughed. "You get the idea." 41

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"Oh yeah. Let me show you how I feel." Crispin rolled Zeke over onto his back and, nudging his legs apart, Crispin settled in between them. Mirroring Zeke's actions of earlier, Crispin began by caressing Zeke's shoulders and arms, giving particular attention to Zeke's hands before he lifted one and kissed the palm. Then he licked each finger before sucking it into his mouth, mimicking what he would soon do to his lover's ass. Zeke's breathing sped up, and Crispin stared into Zeke's eyes and he repeated the action with the other hand. "Gods, Crispin," Zeke murmured. "I can sense so much, it's like I'm caught in an endless loop. I ... feel as ... as if I'm going to shatter like a pane of glass." "And I will draw you back together," Crispin answered, leaning down to capture Zeke's lips and slide his tongue inside. Zeke moaned low in his throat. His arms came up to grasp Crispin to him as the kiss deepened. Breaking for air, Zeke gasped, "Now. Show me now." Crispin reached for the small bottle of oil, pouring a little of thick, viscous liquid onto his fingers. Keeping his eyes on Zeke's face, Crispin stroked the inside of his thighs, moving to slide under his balls and along the strip of skin leading to his small pucker. Zeke lifted his hips, giving Crispin better access, sucking in his breath as Crispin pressed one finger inside. As Crispin continued to prepare him, pressing in a second finger to stroke the special spot deep inside, Zeke tossed his head from side to side and gripped the sheets beneath him as the sensations built and 42

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built within him. His own emotions multiplied by Crispin's until he thought he would fly apart. Then suddenly the fingers were gone, and he felt terribly empty. His eyes flew open, searching for his lover just as Crispin pressed his thick cock into his opening. Zeke cried out, his arms reaching for Crispin as he curled up. "Gods, Zeke, oh gods," Crispin murmured as he moved in and out of Zeke. "I thought I remembered ... what it was like ... how it felt the first time." He gripped Zeke's hips as he thrust harder and deeper, and Zeke could feel every single cell in Crispin's fingers as if the contact seared the nerves in his flesh, even as his cock set his insides alight. Zeke's head fell back onto the pillow, his mouth open wide on a silent scream. Zeke knew Crispin was still talking, and struggled to hear him. He didn't want to miss a single second of the experience. "It's so ... much more ... I ... I..." Crispin gasped as his thrusts sped up. Zeke knew Crispin was almost there, the sense echo of Crispin's impending climax was shattering and Zeke just had to see how he looked. He raised his head to see his lover, and the look on Crispin's face took his breath away—eyes tightly closed, mouth slightly open as he panted for breath, his expression so close to ecstasy he looked to be in pain. Abruptly his eyes flew open, mouth wide, tendons like rope in his neck as he released his seed to flood Zeke's insides. Zeke flew apart.

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When he was aware again, he was enclosed in Crispin's arms, head on his lover's chest. He could feel Crispin's heartbeat was still too fast, and he kissed his neck. "You made me whole," he whispered. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Nine A short time later, they were still lying together, basking in the afterglow. "You're positive you don't regret your choice?" Crispin asked softly, his hands as gentle against Zeke's skin as he caressed his back while Zeke lay alongside him. Zeke had given up so much for him, and Crispin couldn't help the tinge of guilt he felt. Zeke raised his head from Crispin's shoulder to meet his lover's gaze. "Choosing you? Gods, no. It was the best decision I ever made. I'll make it good for us, I promise. I ... I know you'll have to support me for a time, but..." "But nothing. I want you by my side and I don't give a damn about money or anything like that. I don't know how I know, I just trust my ... Your work is going to be appreciated Zeke, I know it. And you don't have to make it good, it is good." "Yes, it is," Zeke agreed. "And if I ever meet that Barty again I'll give him a reward," he added with a grin. "Barty?" "The villain who sent me on the wrong path," Zeke explained. "I still don't understand why I didn't see through him," he added pensively. He sat bolt upright. "Unless, of course, I wasn't meant to! As I told you last night, I wasn't on the wrong path at all." He grinned. "Ah. The twists and turns of life, my love. Who knows where they will lead?" 45

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"Where they may still lead," Zeke said thoughtfully. "I hear wheels turning. Come on, spill." Zeke laughed. "You sure you can't read my thoughts?" "No," Crispin said seriously, "but I think the link between us is getting stronger and I am perhaps becoming more attuned to your moods." "I like that," Zeke murmured, turning toward Crispin and snuggling against him. After a moment, he continued, "I was just regretting the loss of my house. It wasn't particularly big, nor as inviting as your home, I think. My father always thought I could've done better, but I chose it because of its location on Simver Hill, high above the city facing south. I had the upper half of the rear wall removed and replaced with large windows. It had wonderful views, but more importantly, the light was just wonderful for my artwork." His voice was wistful. Crispin smiled. "Who knows where they lead indeed," he said cryptically. "Come, my love, I have something to show you. Grab my robe, I'll get another one." Zeke frowned, but did as he was bid. "What are you up to? I can sense a distinct mischievousness in you, Crispin Valoir." Crispin laughed. "Ah, but trust me, it's a nice mischief." Crispin led the way out of his bedroom and back out into the hall. He walked the opposite way to where the stairs were, and at the end there was a ladder affixed to the wall. Above the ladder there was a large, covered opening, with a pull cord to one side. Crispin turned to Zeke, smiled and began to climb. "What's up there?" Zeke asked. 46

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"Come up and see." "What's with the mystery?" Zeke pushed, but Crispin just laughed. When he got near the top Crispin reached out and pulled the cord and the covering moved. He reached inside, and immediately the space was dimly illuminated. He climbed inside and as Zeke followed him, Crispin said thoughtfully, "Have to make it easier to get up here." **** Puzzled and not a little frustrated, Zeke clambered through the opening, wondering what all the mystery was about. He stood, looking around to find himself in a large open area that was apparently between the eaves of the house. He couldn't see too well, but the light source was not very bright. There was enough illumination, though, to see that the place was covered in a layer of dust. Crispin was moving across to the far side of the space, and abruptly he reached up and pulled aside what turned out to be some kind of drapery. Immediately the space brightened. More dust filled the area as Crispin kept walking toward Zeke, pulling away draperies at regular intervals, until Zeke gasped when he finally stopped. The room was flooded with light as almost one full side of the roof was revealed to have been replaced with glass panels. Zeke spun in a circle, admiring the way light filled every corner, hardly believing what he was seeing. Wonderful, it was everything he could possibly need. 47

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"Oh, Crispin, this is delightful; the equal, if not better even, than my old place." "It never occurred to me before, until you described the room in your house. When I bought this place I wondered why anyone had gone to the expense of converting the roof like that. I had no idea what it could have been used for. I never once thought it could have been made that way for an artist." Zeke looked around thoughtfully again, his eyes narrowing as he planned how he would use the space. "There's enough room in this half so I can have an area for my sculpture and another over there for painting." He grinned at Crispin. "I've been nursing this idea for painting you, nude against a dark blue background." Crispin flushed, then he smiled. "Hmmm, have to see first just how good you are before I allow you to exhibit my luscious body." Zeke laughed. "I have a special affinity for naked men." "Yes, I kind of noticed that," Crispin grinned. After a moment he added, "First thing in the morning we need to go to your house and get all your stuff. I don't know how long you'll have access to the place now that your father has stopped covering the rent." "You're right. I must get my sculptures. I have arranged for six of them to be displayed next month; my chance to be recognized. And my paintings, I have ten years of ... daubs I'm pretty proud of. I should probably have thought of that sooner, but I was somewhat distracted." Zeke smiled. He spun around looking again at the attic space. The light was 48

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fading now as twilight slipped into dusk, but it didn't hide what a wonderful studio it would make. "It's perfect, Crispin. It could have been designed for me," Zeke enthused. "Perhaps it was," Crispin said softly. "The more we are together, the more convinced I am it was meant to be. The twists and turns of life, Zeke. The twists and turns that brought us to our destination—together."

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