Page 40 of A Thousand Cuts

Cyrus:That is the general consensus, yes.

Fix:He really is in danger, Cyrus.

Cyrus:Black?

Fix:No, Liam.

Cyrus:I said I’d check the prints. I really can’t justify the protective detail. Sorry.

Fix:Let me know what you find.

Cyrus:Will do.

Cyrus:And tell Black to answer his damn phone. We have a case.

Fix:He’s asleep. He found a new obsession and stayed up all night.

Cyrus:The glassblowers?

Fix:He says the unfinished shapes remind him of demon organs.

Cyrus:Fucking hell, I’m eating.

Fix:Yeah well, I’ll let him tell you all about it in person.

Cyrus:Can’t wait.

Fix put his phone down and picked his coffee cup back up, pushing himself on the swing on their front porch. He sent the flowerbox to PUMA with a note to Cyrus explaining in short what was going on and asking him to dust the box for prints. He didn’t have much hope for anything, but he also didn’t want to be sitting on his ass doing nothing to help.

There had to be a way to find this jackass. If he was even responsible for Liam’s curses. Often or not, Liam did run in shady circles, and that kind of company sometimes led to nasty outcomes.

“You didn’t sleep at home last night.”

Wren settled onto the swing next to him silently, his slight weight hardly rocking it at all as he drew his feet onto the bench. His gaze was fixed straight ahead on the tree line, his messy black hair wayward and the white lock falling into his eye. He was wearing his signature ripped jeans and drowning in what looked like one of Fix’s fleeces that had gone missing months ago.

“How do you know?” Fix asked softly, frowning at the dark circles under Wren’s eyes. “Insomnia again?”

Wren shrugged, blunted and bitten fingernails pulling at the loose denim threads at his knees. “I’m fine. Nothing I’m not used to.”

Fix could see a sliver of that sealed envelope in his pocket. It looked even more worn than before, like Wren had been worrying it in his hands over and over.

Fix debated with himself before saying softly, “But it’s gotten worse lately.”

Wren’s fingers froze and he looked like he stopped breathing for a second.

“Wren—”

“Did you keep him safe?” Wren asked.

Fix accepted the silent request to drop it.

“I don’t think I did much. I broke the curses, but I’m no closer to figuring out where they’re coming from,” Fix said honestly. “I didn’t want to be too far away if something happened to him, so I stayed close by.”

“I’m glad he has you. I think he hasn’t had much kindness in his life.”

“I think so too.” And it killed him.

“You’re the kindest. So he’s lucky.”