Tree Fingers Read Online Free PDF Page B

rid of his obsession to know at any cost. Still, he hoped with his every fiber that the cost wouldn’t be this high. Graham was right; he’d gone too far.
    His powers weren’t developed enough to attempt such a conjuring. But great discovery never came without risk. Last night he’d glimpsed something: the first, fuzzy outline of an undiscovered land, still far in the distance but calling out to be explored. He had to make his lover understand.
    “Until I met you,” Alan said, taking a step nearer and winding his arms around Graham’s waist, holding on to him like he could be snatched away, “I was completely content to be alone. Do my research. The lonely scholar, the mystic in his cave in the mountains, I guess.” He forced a chuckle. “It never bothered me.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I want, need , you in my life, Graham. I love you. I want you to love me. Everything about me.”
    Graham rested his head against Alan’s shoulder and turned his face, so that Alan could feel Graham’s lips moving against his cheek as he spoke. His breath smelled of tea and bergamot. “I do, of course, love. I’m sorry. I have to admit, that haunted look of yours was what first attracted me to you.”
    Alan laughed, a real laugh of both amusement and relief, and squeezed Graham’s ribs. “Haunted, huh?”
    “Pale, half-starved, looking like you hadn’t slept in a week.”
    “So that’s a good look then?”
    “On you. You put me in mind of one of those tortured poets. I could imagine painting a portrait of you in a frilly shirt.”
    “Not gonna happen,” Alan said.
    “No?”
    Alan felt Graham smiling, felt his cheek contract and round against his face. “You can paint me in the nude,” he offered.
    “Now that’s a painting that would go unfinished.”
    “Didn’t you tell me that the artistic process is just as important as the end result?”
    Graham laughed and shook his head.
    “It’s the same with spells,” Alan said. “Calling things into being. Shaping them with concentration and will. Making your vision manifest. Altering a piece of the world into what you want it to be.”
    “I suppose,” Graham conceded. “Art just isn’t as dangerous.”
    “Art is more dangerous,” Alan said, laughing out loud. “Art starts revolutions. Changes the way entire societies think. Stuff that’s way beyond my skill!”
    “Still, I want you to be more careful.”
    “Agreed.”
    “And no more going behind my back.”
    Unable to resist, Alan reached up and pinched Graham’s nipple. “Never?” he whispered mischievously.
    “Well, maybe.”
    “Maybe now?” Alan asked, his fingers skimming down Graham’s chest and grazing the growing swell in his pants.
    “I have to go out and buy some sweets for the trick-or-treaters,” Graham argued half-heartedly. “Some pumpkins and candles for the front porch. Something for supper.”
    “Jack-o-lanterns?” Alan asked, circling his hips ever so slightly, so that Graham could feel his erection. “Sounds like fun. I’d like to come with you.”
    “Sounds lovely.”
    “But I need a shower. Wash out my cut before it gets infected. I’d love some company.”
    Graham took Alan’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the inside of Alan’s wrist. Then he knotted their fingers together and led Alan into the house.

    Alan and Graham spent many more hours at the local farmer’s market than they’d intended, enjoying the rich hues of the harvest produce, so they decided to stop for Chinese rather than cook and made it home just as the first of the neighborhood children ventured out in their costumes. Alan remained on the front porch while Graham went inside to put away the things they’d purchased: a bag of apples, some local honey and a bottle of wine for later. Even as an adult, Halloween excited Alan. He smiled as groups of witches, ghosts and vampires shuffled through the fallen leaves with their sacks. It satisfied him to know that many of the older ones