"Don't I always?" Bull asked, voice warm and deep. He held onto Dorian as long as he could, until the mage's feet were on the ground.

The odd race back to the apartment made Bull laugh; he could remember lumbering through the rain, he could remember trudging. The only times he'd ever run in the rain, he'd been running at something to kill it, or he'd been trying to get out of the way of a flash flood.

When they got back to the Bramford, Bull grabbed Dorian and picked him up, tossing the mage right over his shoulder on his way to the stairs.