Dark's Lover

By Emily Carrington

A Singer draws energy from within to work what others would consider miracles: soothing the sufferer, tending the grief-stricken, and defeating enemies.

When Blagden, a Night Wanderer-Singer, meets Caleb, he is drawn to the Grand Fae’s struggle to accept his new life as a member of SearchLight. Caleb’s son is blind and the grand Fae have cast out all disabled children… and those who support them.

But Blagden has a terrible secret. He inadvertently steals energy from those he loves. When SearchLight is attacked, Blagden must choose between the Fae he loves and his resolve never to steal energy again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Feb 12, 2021

Book preview

Chapter One

Caleb was one horny bastard. Not to mention exhausted. And that was not the right way to start this interview. Sure, the potential teacher sitting across from him was easy on the eyes. Tall, muscular, and big like a football player, his face showed intelligence instead of… Well, what exactly had Caleb been expecting? Something dopey?

No, but he hadn’t expected to feel like he was being studied in return. Not by a totally blind Night Wanderer.

His compatriot cleared her throat. Welcome to Mojave Valley, Mr. Graywolf.

Thank you, Mrs. Pennyworth. Blagden Graywolf smiled, and even though his eyes remained closed, the honest pleasure shone in every plane of his face. If he was nervous, he hid it well.

To my right is Caleb Cartwright, the head of our program for the visually impaired.

Blagden extended his hand after touching the side of the desk discreetly. He held his hand higher than was usual, but Caleb assumed that was because he wasn’t sure what obstacles he might bump.

He grasped Blagden’s hand and found the other magical creature’s grip strong and dry. Pleased to meet you, he murmured, embarrassed by how gruff he sounded.

Tell us a little about yourself, Mrs. Pennyworth invited.

The Night Wanderer settled back in the chair, clasping his hands in his lap. He turned his head toward her voice, but occasionally… He wasn’t actually glancing at Caleb to keep him in the conversation, but the tilt of his head gave that impression.

That’s something I need to teach Nat. His son had a tendency to address a random corner of whatever room he sat in or sometimes his shoes or his hands. Blagden Graywolf looked thoroughly invested in this interview.

He told them about growing up on a reservation in Utah, about being born totally blind, and how he’d decided to pursue being a teacher of the visually impaired because he loved all the tricks he’d been taught over the years.

I thought the reservations didn’t have as ready access to teachers of the visually impaired as most schools, Caleb put in. It was his understanding that Native American children weren’t given the same advantages. They were often overlooked or underserved. Of course, Night Wanderers weren’t exactly Native Americans, although their appearance had fooled many over the centuries. But since he’d been living on a reservation, he would have been subject to the same prejudices.

My grandmother, uncle, and older brother are all blind, Blagden said comfortably. My grandmother went to the Perkins School for the Blind. She made sure we were all braille readers. And I attended a public school in Salt Lake City to make sure I got all the vision services I needed. His dark eyebrows rose over his closed eyes. They were feathery and narrow, those brows. Elegant. I had a series of three great TVI instructors during my school years. Then he returned his attention to Mrs. Pennyworth. His focus was a little off to her left, but not tremendously so. Ma’am, before I ramble too much, is there anything you’d specifically like to know?

What made you leave the human sector and seek a job with SearchLight?

Blagden tensed. His hands in his lap, formerly folded together, knotted into a tight ball. I’d prefer not to say.

We received glowing reports from your former colleagues and principals, Mrs. Pennyworth said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just refused to answer a question during an interview. As she progressed into familiar territory, including asking what Blagden’s greatest strengths and weaknesses were, Caleb found himself daydreaming about his head teacher-to-be. Despite his refusal to answer a basic question, he was years more qualified than any of the other magical creatures they’d interviewed. Many of those would find jobs here, but as paraeducators and other instructional aides, not as the lead teacher.

The man began talking with his hands as well as his voice at one point, and Caleb interrupted a nice fantasy about kissing the Night Wanderer to ask, Are you actually using tactile sign language?

Blagden smiled. It’s a nervous habit, he admitted. It helps me focus.

So, you’ve taught the deafblind? Caleb asked.

Mrs. Pennyworth shot him an annoyed look that Blagden couldn’t see. She tapped on her desk, pointing out the skills listed on Blagden’s resume. There was the skill, tactile and protactile sign language, and no corresponding work experience.

I’ve only studied sign, Blagden was saying.

Mrs. Pennyworth mouthed, Pay attention. Then she asked, Do you have lodging until we make our decision at the end of the week?

Yes, ma’am. The local alpha, Afon Donald, has agreed to let me stay.

He’s our main therapist, Mrs. Pennyworth said, nodding. I’m glad you found a good place in the area.

After the interview, Caleb walked Blagden out. He resisted the urge to say, You’re hired or Very impressive. Instead, he shook Blagden’s hand one more time, noting with approval the way his own hand disappeared into the larger grip. He liked a male with big fingers.

He felt himself blush and stepped back. Do you know your way from here?

I believe my ride is waiting for me. Blagden flashed him a smile. Thank you for your hospitality. And he strode down the hall, cane sweeping the floor.

Caleb?

He turned back toward Mrs. Pennyworth’s office. He stepped in. I’m sorry, he said. My mind drifted.

Clearly. Should we put off our last interview until tomorrow? Are you tired?

He shook his head.

She asked, Nat isn’t keeping you up at night, is he?

Caleb rubbed a hand over his face. I’ll be all right, he said, purposely not answering the question.

I suggest you get a cup of coffee before we interview our last applicant.

* * *

When Blagden was in the car, he let out a long breath. He’d been so sure the Grand Fae, Caleb Cartwright, was going to say they didn’t want him because he was blind. The way the Grand Fae had called him out for using tactile sign language, which he’d been doing only half consciously and low on his lap so it wouldn’t draw attention, had made Blagden nervous. He thought he’d carried off his explanation well, but who could tell? Not him, at least not from Cartwright’s voice. And since he couldn’t read facial expressions at all…

Are you all right? Xavier asked. He was one of Afon Donald’s lovers. A basilisk and the campus’s parapsychology professor, he was weirdly approachable. He spoke quietly almost always, and he had a dissimulating air. Or, let me put that differently, he went on. What’s wrong?

Blagden chuckled. It’s that obvious, is it? Well, you’re right. I’m tense.

Did the interview go badly?

I have no idea, Blagden replied honestly. They didn’t ask me much beyond my greatest strength, which is empathizing with my students, I guess, and my greatest weakness, although they called it my challenge.

What’s that? Xavier backed them out of the parking spot.

Blagden hesitated. I know when you’re asked that question in an interview, you’re supposed to turn it into a strength. Something like, ‘I work too hard.’ He snorted. But unable to think of that at the moment, I had to give the truth. Sometimes my desire to empathize means I get fooled by other people.

A strength that is also a weakness. That’s actually not bad. He was out of the echoing parking garage and soon Blagden lost track of where they were because all the roads felt the same. But that’s not why you’re stressed, is it?

No, Blagden admitted. I… I guess I’m prejudiced. Which really sucks ass because I’ve never considered myself a bigot before.

Before you go judging yourself too harshly, tell me what you’re thinking. Maybe I can help you resolve it.

I’m nervous about working with Caleb Cartwright because he’s a Grand Fae, and the Grand Fae were the ones who condemned their disabled children for so long. What’s to stop him seeing me as just another disabled, unworthy person?

"First, having a blind son he’s sheltered