Page 73 of Prohibited
They helped Lindsay up the stairs, one step at a time, and Malcolm held the door open with an air of impatience. “Come on, come on, haven’t got all night.” But itwas a note of impatience that seemed to be hiding the concern he had for his younger brother.
In the bright light of the lanterns glowing on the porch and in the house, Malcolm’s features came into sharp relief. And he did, indeed, bear a striking resemblance to his younger brother. With the exception that he had a mass of curly hair that was so dark red that it looked nearly mahogany and that in place of his left eye, he wore a facial prosthetic that covered his temple, part of his forehead, his eye socket and half of his cheek. Instead of the more sophisticated metal prosthetics she had seen that were carefully painted to match the patient’s face, his was a beautiful polished wood that was carved to resemble the features of a face. It gave him a strange, godlike quality. Some Pan or Cernunnos out in Green Country, tending to his apples. He had the same spill of freckles as Lindsay, but his eye was a jeweled hazel. His features were stronger, his face more intense, and the lower half of his face was covered by a somewhat managed beard. The biggest difference between the brothers was the nature of their expression. Where Lindsay had a good, open face with an easy smile, Malcolm had a scowl and a cynical glint in his eye.
Evie smiled at him sadly, thinking of all of the mangled faces she’s seen on the battlefield. She had worried for those men, wondering what would become of them once they’d returned home. The world was not kind to people who were different, no matter the reason.
Malcolm, for his part, was handsome. The damage to his face took nothing away from the authority of his presence in the room or his very evident and powerful sense of self.
Malcolm looked back at her, as if daring her to stare. She nodded at him slightly and allowed herself to be herded into the house.
Lindsay looked nearly green by the time they got him in the door.
“Down the hall,” Malcolm said in a tone of voice that made it clear that he was accustomed to being in charge. It seemed like a given quality in the eldest sibling of a family, but Evelyn wouldn’t have known. She didn’t have any siblings of her own.
“At the end of the hall,” Lindsay said. The door was open and a candle washed the room with warm, spare light. A simple, clean room with two large windows, open to let the night breeze into the room. Though it was hot outside, it was hotter still in the house, and the air that moved into the room, fluttering the curtains, was welcome.
“Who is Saoirse?” Evie asked Lindsay softly.
“Our younger sister.” Lindsay winced as Alex helped to settle him into a more comfortable position on the bed, fluffing the pillows and fussing with the blankets.
“Pain in the ass,” Alex interjected with a narrowing of his eyes.
“Not to say the half of it,” Malcolm said as he turned away. “Y'all can have the room above thecarriage house, too.” And under his breath, “If you weren’t all planning to sleep in the same bed.”
A statement that made Evie turn bright red. She hoped Alex didn’t notice.
“How many siblings do you have?” Evie said, to direct the conversation anywhere but the topic of Malcolm speculating on their relationship. Relationships?
“I had six.” Lindsay shifted, grimacing a little.
“Six?” Incomprehensible. “Had? You mean–”
“It’s only me and Mal and Saoirse now,” Lindsay said, voice heavy and strained from pain. “Mona died from polio when she was a child. Callum, Sean, and Liam all died in the War. My parents both died from the Spanish Flu last year.”
“I’m so–” she stared to say, reaching forward to touch his shoulder.
But he smiled at her tiredly and shook his head. “It’s in the past,” he said. “I think they’re probably in a better place now.”
Evie swallowed. “Is your shoulder paining you? Would you like some laudanum?”
Lindsay shook his head, eyelids growing heavy. He’d said before that it made him nauseated, but she couldn’t help but want to do what she could for him. “I’ll be alright. I just need to sleep.”
She met Alex’s eyes as she ran her fingers along the covers, making sure they were tucked in just right, and immediately wished that she hadn’t. It was rare, she realized, for them to look directly at one another and now sheremembered why. That look he had, like he could crack open even the smallest atoms in her body and draw out the shadows he found there.
“Good night,” she said to Lindsay. And then she leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. It felt good to do it, and it put such a sweet smile on Lindsay’s face that it made her already fluttering stomach explode with butterflies. He caught her hand as she moved away and pressed it to his lips. His gorgeous, talented lips.
“Good night, sweet lady.” His hand was warm and held hers with such reverence that it made her blush. Which was ridiculous. As if she’d never had her hand held by a man.
“Don’t get distracted,” she said, half laughing, and extracted her hand from his weak grasp. “Go to sleep.”
“Mmhmm.” But his eyes were already closing.
“How sweet,” Alex drawled, causing her to blush again. She glanced up at him, searching for an indication of jealousy, but there wasn’t any. On the contrast, his eyes glittered with amusement. Perhaps even fascination.
The quick witted reply she would have liked to have shot back seemed somehow beyond her reach. Something about him was mesmerizing. Terrible and beautiful at the same time. Something she wanted to run away from, but also something she was also drawn to. The thought made her shudder. After all of the terrible things he’d done to her.
His hand brushed Lindsay’s hair back from his head, and Alex never took his eyes off of her as he leaned to press a kiss to Lindsay’s forehead as well.
Luckily, Ryan spared her from having to summon a reply by walking into the room and looking around with disgust. “Please tell me this isn’t the only room he gave us.”