“How the hell did you get out of your room?” he growled, clamping a hand on Caden’s bicep.
Caden jerked away. “Let go of me, goddamn it. Tennyson is sick and he needs you.”
That brought Quade up short. “Ten? Where did you—“ He sniffed the air. “Never mind.” Quade pulled out his phone, punched a button, and held it to his ear. “Desmond? Something’s wrong with Ten. Meet me in Caden’s room. No, I don’t know why he’s in there, just move your ass.”
Quade hung up and zipped ahead of Caden. Now would be the perfect time to look for a way out, but Tennyson had helped him, had trusted him. No way could he walk away when the boy needed him. Caden rushed after Quade. When he walked into the room, Quade knelt by Ten’s side, stroking his face.
“What did you do, you dumb bastard?”
“He was trying to help me. He said my dreams were hurting him.”
“Shit.” Quade scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, shit, shit. He’s never supposed to do things like that without having the doctor with him.”
Quade put his hands on Ten’s shoulders and shook him gently. Seeing the fear on his face, the desperation as he tried to wake Ten, Caden’s anger toward Quade melted. He honestly cared for the kid.
Images flashed in Caden’s mind: Quade and Ten sitting outside and staring up at the night sky. Ten moving a bit closer until his elbow touched Quade’s. How Ten put his head on Quade’s arm and sighed at the closeness.
More and more images rolled on like a movie. Quade buying Ten ice cream, then sitting together and enjoying it. Quade tossing stones onto a crystal-clear lake, with Ten laughing as they plopped into the water instead of skipping over the surface. Quade holding Ten in his arms as he carried him back into Sanctuary. Caden had thought Quade was an asshole. Still did, sort of. But now he was seeing him in a different light, one that showed how deeply he cared for Ten.
Loud voices echoed down the hall, and a moment later, three men burst into the room. They pushed Quade out of the way, picked Ten up, and placed him gently on the rolling table they brought with them. The doctor reached into a black bag and began to take out various implements. First he listened to Ten’s chest, thumped it twice, then took out a light and flashed it into his eyes.
“How long has he been like this?”
Quade looked to Caden, panic in his expression. “How long?”
“Five, maybe ten minutes.”
“And what happened right before he passed out?”
“He said he was helping me because my dreams were hurting him. I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to do things without someone else. I’m sorry.”
The doctor sighed. “It’s not your fault. Ten’s always been headstrong. He’s just a boy, but sometimes he forgets that the rules apply to him too. Especially to him.”
“Will he be okay?”
“If he’s not, I’ll kick his ass.” Quade leaned over Ten’s body, grabbed him by the shirt, and hauled him closer. “Do you hear me, kid? If you’re not okay, I’ll beat your ass so hard, you won’t sit down for a month.”
The voice was hard, but the words came out with a tremor to them. After what he’d seen, Caden knew the truth. Quade was terrified.
The doctor pulled the plug off a needle, inserted it into Ten’s arm, then hooked it up to some kind of IV drip.
“He’ll be fine. He overtaxed his abilities is all. He worked a full shift in the clinic, and instead of resting, came in here and kept pushing himself. Damn kid, always thinking he has to shoulder the weight of the world.” The doctor brushed a red hair from Ten’s forehead. “Get him down to the infirmary. Tell them I want a guard on him tonight, and if he wakes up, he’s not allowed to use his powers at all.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And tell them if he tries, to let me know and I’ll sedate him if I have to.”
“Let’s go,” Quade snarled.
“No, leave him rest. You know he’s going to sense your emotions, and he’ll try to do something about them.”
“But—”
“We have this, Quade. Let us take care of him.” He turned back to the others. “Go.”
The two men gave a brisk nod, then whisked Ten from the room, followed shortly after by the doctor.
Quade scrubbed a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh when the door closed. He turned to Caden and groaned. “I’m sorry I yelled, and I’m sorry I grabbed you.”
“No problem.”
“No, I shouldn’t have. My kind is… quick to anger. Ten’s been helping me with that for the last two years. You should have seen me back then. You looked at me funny and I might rip your throat out. Now I might say ‘nice shoes’ before I kill you.”
“God, you mean Ten’s been helping people since he was a little boy?”
“He was working with folks before I got here, so he’s probably been doing it since he was about six years old.”
“What about his parents?”
Quade’s chin dropped to his chest. “Murdered by someone we trusted. He threatened to hurt Ten, and the kid’s father went after him. The bastard shot him in the face. His mother shielded Ten with her body, and he put three bullets into her back.”
Caden couldn’t repress his shudder. He could understand why Quade was protective of Ten. He seemed so fragile, but at the same time, showed a strength Caden rarely saw in people twice his age.
“I’m sorry. Can I ask what happened to the guy?”
A look of rage came over Quade’s face that chilled Caden to the bone. “He’s never going to hurt anyone again, I can promise you that.” He slumped back and sighed. “Ten was lost. He couldn’t function at all. One day he did something to himself and removed the painful memories. We’re not sure how, but he became the Ten we know today. We all work hard to make him feel like he belongs. Still, none of us really understand how he does what he does.”
“He talks to the door.”
Quade waved a hand. “See? That’s what I mean.” He pointed to the seat that Ten had occupied. “May I?”
“Sure.”
Quade sat, and Caden took a moment to look him over. His ebony hair was cut to the scalp in a harsh buzz, his eyes were dark, almost black, and his skin reminded Caden of the sandy color he’d seen on the side of a cliff, and was almost as rough. He might not like Quade much, but Caden had to admit, he was a very handsome man.
“Most of us who live here have definable abilities. Mine is due to my lycan half. Jack, our director, is a half giant, and his wife is a brownie. But then we have people who have gifts that are psychic in nature, and we don’t really understand those.”
They sat quietly for a while, each lost in his own thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Quade said again, the words so soft, Caden wasn’t sure he’d heard them.
“Just for the record, what are you sorry for this time? Kidnapping me? Throwing me in here without so much as an explanation? What exactly are you sorry for, Quade?”
Quade winced. “I deserved that, I suppose. You have every right to be angry. Normally one of our counselors would talk with you to smooth your integration into Sanctuary, but maybe I should be the one who tells you.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Could I get a beer?”