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Blind Alley by Elenna Tylor

Dragged out into the night by his young lover, Devon Windsor discovers there are a hundred ways to be led blindly by the heart, and years of being a top-flight operative aren't always enough to see the danger waiting in a blind alley...


Tonight was supposed to be an early night. Stirring himself out of his slump in the window seat near the fire, he glanced across the room at the wall clock and saw it was ten-thirty. Jason should have been home by now. Worry was too strenuous an emotion to entertain at the moment, and he settled back down to stare blindly out the window.

Leaves flew at the glass, swept along in a suicidal rush by the force of blustering winds. The first of the rain began to patter against the pane, a promise of a deluge in the size of the droplets. Devon was almost asleep by the time he heard the key in the lock. "Thank God," he whispered, determined not to crawl between cold sheets tonight, alone and frustrated. He just hoped Jason wasn't in one of his 'animated' moods and wanting to talk, because Devon had every intention of dragging him into bed, bodily if necessary.

One bleary-eyed glance in Jason's direction told him animation was going to be the least of his problems tonight. Jason flung a duffel bag of books onto the couch and dropped the violin case beside it with a carelessness that Devon had never seen him use before. If anything was sacred, it was the violin. Now it lay discarded beside the battered bag and Jason was already launched into what was obviously a crisis, but at this point totally baffling.

"Devon, you gotta come with me. You gotta help Alan or they're going to kill him. He's set up the meeting and there's just no way to talk him out of it. I tried, but he's afraid not to go."

Windsor was dragged off the window seat and halfway through the living room before Jason paused for air and glanced around the room as if only then noticing where he was. His eyes wide and coloured with lingering panic, he stared at Devon in mild accusation.

"Get dressed."

Devon glanced down at the terry cloth robe he had wrapped around his body when he'd gotten out of the shower, then back up at the young man who was obviously expecting him to know what the hell was going on.

Jason had that 'why aren't we already on our way?' look written so clearly on his face that Devon actually asked, "On our way where?"