But, as if reading my thoughts, he shifted his gaze to my throbbing forehead. He took the handkerchief—my muscles twitched when it left my hand, I’d forgotten it was clenched there—and wet it with the clear liquid from his medicine cabinet. Without warning he pressed it to my cut. I winced, closing my eyes briefly, my hand slapping on top of his to remove it from—

His hand … was at the back of my head. Cradling it. Me. I swallowed, taking a deep breath. His touch was comforting in a way I’d never felt before. Was I … allowed to like the feeling of my employer’s hand? Even if it didn’t mean anything—which it didn’t. He was just helping me. And he was only a year older. If he wasn’t my employer we would be peers.

He checked his work and then tore a small piece of gauze he’d brought out, applying a bit of sticky medicine to the back of it. I bit back a grin. His concentration face made him look sweet, like a young boy, as he laid the gauze over my cut, carefully smoothing it with his thumbs so that the medicine spread beneath it, making every corner stick in place. It was a nice change to his weary, annoyed countenance.

“Thank you,” I said.

He dabbed the edges with the handkerchief, removing excess medicine, and then his focus was on my eyes again. He blinked when I stepped back, as if waking from a trance. “Thank you for making me feel useful.”

A blush rose in his cheeks, extending through the tip of his nose. It made him look so sweet—God, stop, what was I thinking? I dropped my gaze quickly.

“Good night, sir,” I said, turning away.

“Magnus.”

I paused at the door to look at him, meeting his gaze. I should’ve told him to stop staring at me. It was socially rude. Odd, to be honest. But his look wasn’t invasive, wasn’t lewd. It was just a wordless request, a boy longing for connection.

And, after tonight, I think it was a connection I needed as much as he did.

“Good night…” I grabbed the doorknob, stepped out into the hall. “Magnus.”

CHAPTER 11

I awoke with a stomachache and a mind full of dread.

Not over the roomful of blood. No, I’d had hours to wrap my mind around the concept. Or the fact that my amulet had barely protected me from it. That was more concerning, but Jember was sure to know of a way to make my amulet stronger.

That is, if he was willing to help me.