Dance Only For Me

by Megan Derr

  The smell of coffee and bacon woke him, and Jackie grunted sleepily into the hollow of Ned's throat. Ned made a rough, instinct noise and shifted, fumbling awkwardly—and then tumbled off the sofa, head cracking against the coffee table. He swore loudly and half-curled on the floor, holding the back of his head. Jackie rolled off the couch to crouch over him, straddling him. "You all right?"

  "I've had worse," Ned said sourly. He turned so he was lying on his back, hips pressing against Jackie's knees. "Good morning again, Sheriff."

  Jackie groaned. "Ya'll need to knock that off. I ain't never been and ain't never gonna be a damn sheriff. I'm just a sorcerer for hire. Come on, if your head is more or less intact then I want breakfast and more coffee." He stood up and hauled Ned to his feet, grunting in surprise when Ned wrapped around him like a damned cat and kissed him. Not that he was complaining, Ned's mouth was quickly moving to number one on his list of 'highly distracting things'. Reluctantly pulling away, Jackie said, "Let's go, demon. I'm already gonna catch hell; don't need you giving them more ammo."

  He kept hold of Ned's wrist and led him into the kitchen, rolling his eyes at the look on Wyatt's face. He poured two cups of coffee, topped off Wyatt's by the stove, then handed one cup to Ned before he sat at the table. "How's Emma?"

  "Still asleep, but I snuck in there earlier to get you clothes and stuff so you can use the other shower."

  "Thanks," Jackie said. His stomach growled as Wyatt set a plate of scrambled eggs, grits, and bacon in front of him.

  Ned grinned as he accepted the plate Wyatt handed him. "You're a good little wife."

  Wyatt just grinned back. "What does that make you then? The other woman I need to throw out?"

  "Sounds like too much work this early," Ned replied. "Can't remember the last time I bothered to have a breakfast like this."

  "We don't always get a chance to eat, so best to take advantage when the opportunity wanders ny," Jackie said and made quick work of the eggs before he started in on the grits, drowning them in butter, salt, and pepper. "When did Phoenix say he'd be back?"

  "Probably soon," Wyatt said around a strip of bacon. They lapsed into silence after that and finished breakfast quickly. Jackie cleaned up the kitchen then slipped away to finally get a shower.

  He wasn't really surprised when he found his shower came with a demon. "You're all or nothing, ain't you? Gone or stuck like a leech."

  Ned wrapped a hand around his cock, nibbled at spot where jaw met neck. "Leech, huh? You saying you want me to suck the life right out of you?"

  Jackie huffed out a laugh. "Life, not so much. But I think you done already taken away my brains."

  Leaving a throbbing mark on his throat, Ned let go of his cock and maneuvered Jackie around so he was pressed up against the wall, hot water pouring down on them, steam taking up the remaining space as Ned sank to his knees and put his mouth where his hand had been. Fuck. Jackie hoped he wasn't gonna be expected to do a whole lot of thinking later, 'cause that ability was just done gone.

  Seventy years old and he'd never been the object of such focus and energy. Ned acted like they'd done this a thousand times or more, with another couple thousand still to go. It went straight to Jackie's head in ways he'd sworn nothing else would ever again.

  He ran his fingers over Ned's bare head, the runes carved even there, and for a moment something flickered—

  But it was impossible to think, let alone about something as complicated as magic, when a talented mouth was wrapped around his cock. He muffled his cries with his free hand as he came, drew shuddering breaths as he calmed down, and fumbled briefly as he tried to get a grip on Ned's wet-slick skin before he finally succeeded in hauling him up to make a feast of his mouth.

  Ned chuckled into the kiss, hands stroking and petting Jackie like he was a colt in need of calming. Drawing back, he murmured, "I really want to fuck you."

  "I'm pretty damn sure you'll get the chance, just might be later rather than sooner," Jackie said and took another quick kiss before he pushed Ned under the spray and got down to the cleaning they were supposed to be doing. By the time they were done and dressed—and Jackie hadn't a clue where Ned had gotten new clothes—Phoenix was in the kitchen talking to Wyatt. "Howdy."

  Phoenix looked up, frowning faintly when his gaze fell on Ned. "What are you doing here?"

  "Sticking around since you damn fools won't stay out of it," Ned replied.

  "You're waiting for us to get you to Firebrand again and after you get rid of him once and for all you'll probably kill the rest of us," Phoenix said.

  "If I wanted you dead, vampire, you would be."

  Phoenix sneered, but before he could reply Jackie stepped between them and gave Ned a nudge back. "Behave, the both of you. One problem at a time—we need to know the man behind all this. I'm about tired of hunting shadows. Can't you tell us anything? After all these years, surely you must know something, Ned."

  Ned shrugged. "I was summoned into a broken mind and subjected to magic experiments that nearly broke my mind. I'm old enough I should need a territory, but I never will." If Jackie hadn't been watching him so intently, he never would have noticed the amounts of pain that filled Ned's eyes as he said the words should need a territory, but I never will. "Every time I'm near people too long Firebrand comes out and they all start dying. I'm willing to kill to keep anyone from making another one of me, but even that's a last resort. You obviously don't have to believe me—"

  "Good, because we don't," Phoenix said.

  "I do," Wyatt said, ignoring the disgusted look that earned him from Phoenix. "Demons are only mindless killers when people force them to be. The worst demons in history were those still under control of their summoner. Most of them have been banished back to hell, or are locked up in some way. Otherwise, demons only kill to protect their territories and their consorts—and only when they're in danger. Demons like to reign and it's hard to reign over corpses."

  Ned reached out and ruffled Wyatt's hair, snickering when Wyatt swatted his hands away. "You really are a good little Sheriff's wife, awww."

  Wyatt lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm not his wife, I'm his deputy."

  "I ain't no sheriff," Jackie interjected, though he was resigned to the matter being a lost cause. He'd just have to hope they'd eventually get bored with it. "What can you tell us, Ned?"

  Ned shook his head. "The last time I got even slightly close to finding the bastard Firebrand works alongside, an entire house burned down and a lot of people with it. I'd gone there to speak with a man named Elmore. Never did figure out if that was a first or last name, and by the time I got to Willow House he was long gone and I walked right into a trap."

  "Elmore?" Jackie and Wyatt said at the same time, sharing a look. "Not Elmore Barrington? Sorcerer, has a fondness for summoning djinn?"

  "Djinn part sounds right," Ned replied. "You know him? He's still alive? I haven't heard of him in years and I keep an ear out."

  "He was killed a few decades ago by a man named Jed; he's the last remaining descendent of Solomon," Wyatt said quietly. "He lives in Brennus territory now. Elmore was part of a cult … but surely the Kings aren't behind all of this. They haven't been around that long."

  Jackie shook his head, suddenly feeling cold. "As to that, ain't no telling how long that cult has been around, how many times it's changed masters and members and what-all. If it was them, that would make a lot of sense with what they've been doing with all those experiments—just think how much worse it all coulda gotten if they ever got hold of the Ring of Solomon."

  Phoenix and Ned stared at them as if they were speaking an unknown language. "What in the devil are the Kings?" Phoenix asked. "I feel this is something I should have heard about, but I do not know the name."

  "Be glad you don't," Jackie said. "Nothing but trouble, that lot. They come and go over the years. Every time we start to think they're finally gone for good, they pop up again. Like Wyatt said: they're a cult, a group of abnormal humans who
think they're superior to normals and meant to rule them. Only the fact they ain't strong enough to go against the rest of abnormal society has kept them from revealing themselves to normals. That and there's rumors some of them are crazy enough to think abnormal humans should rule over everyone, normals and abnormals alike, since they're the bridge between the two and therefore superior."

  "How charming," Phoenix drawled. "I would like to see any human tell me he is superior to me when I am draining him dry."

  Ned laughed. Jackie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I don't need to explain to you why they call themselves the Kings. They've gone to pretty crazy lengths to gain more power—and that's only the stuff we've noticed. They're a quiet, secretive bunch. We know less about them than normals know about abnormals."

  "That's embarrassing," Ned said.

  "Yeah, hoss, cause you're just a fount of information on those what made you," Jackie said.

  Ned made a face but didn't argue.

  "They're bad," Wyatt said quietly. "I think my—my grandfather did stuff for them. I was never sure, but some of the people he killed …" He shook his head, looking haunted, hunted. "Solomon's line had plenty of people left, but the Kings massacred them all just to get to his ring. I think we're all lucky they underestimated Jed and his angel."

  Jackie nodded. "Ayah."

  "So we need to go speak with Jed," Phoenix said.

  "Nah," Jackie replied. "He won't do us any good. Jed has always stayed out of such things as best he can. He killed Elmore, but that was about all he knew of the Kings and he's had nothing to do with them since. If they still have plans for the Ring of Solomon, they ain't put them into motion yet. Sad to say, Barlett was probably our best bet. He's the type of scum that would know about the Kings, though he didn't mention it before."

  Wyatt snorted. "That doesn't mean anything. You should talk to His Highness. The dragon clans keep tabs on that sort of thing. They're even less amused by a group arrogant enough to declare themselves Kings than most of us."

  Jackie scratched at his chin then dropped his hand with a grunt. "I suppose they would be, at that." He sighed. "I guess we're off to see Prince Amr, then. Wyatt, call and arrange it. I'm gonna get my guns." He didn't wait for any of them to reply, just went to the living room and retrieved his revolvers, buckling the belt into place and meticulously looking over each gun before sliding them back into their holsters. Moving to the front door, he pulled down his duster—then scowled when he remembered his hat hadn't survived the encounter with Firebrand. "Damn it." He slipped quiet as he could into his bedroom and opened the closet, pulling down the box on the top shelf. Sneaking back out, he pulled out the spare hat he'd bought and fussed with it a bit before settling it on his head. Damn it all, he'd just broken in the other one.

  "You do cut a fine figure, gunslinger," Ned drawled from behind him.

  "Ain't a chore to look at yourself, demon," Jackie replied, happy to look his fill even if he hadn't the slightest clue what was happening between them—why Ned seemed obsessed with him when Jackie was pretty sure he wasn't Ned's consort. Demons weren't shy. If he was Ned's consort, Ned would have already said.

  Stupid to feel disappointed. Didn't make a lick of sense, so he pushed it away and put his mind on business, no matter how distracting Ned looked in worn, well-fitted jeans, a dark red t-shirt, and a black corduroy jacket.

  Ned stepped in close, curled his fingers into the edges of Jackie's duster, and tugged him down into a brief, but full-of-fire kiss.

  "You need to stop being distracting, demon."

  "I ain't the one who's distracting," Ned replied quietly, but let him go.

  Jackie resettled his skewed hat, stepping back to give himself room to breathe as the others joined them. "What did Prince Amr have to say?"

  "He said to come on over, his morning is mostly free. They'll be expecting us, so we can just go straight up. The guards will have an access card for us."

  "Let me leave a note for Emma, then, and we'll get going," Jackie replied going over to the small desk by the door to jot a quick note before heading into his bedroom. Emma was still fast asleep, morning sun making her shimmer ever so faintly. Jackie pulled a pen and paper out of his nightstand, then curled the note into her hand so she'd be sure to find it when she woke. Settling the blankets around her, he closed the door quietly behind him and rejoined the others. "Let's go."

  Twenty or so minutes later they were riding the elevator up to the penthouse of Prince Amr, and Jackie wasn't quite sure what to make of the fact he was running with damn near a posse. He generally worked alone, minus a bit of help every now and again where the job required it. He couldn't begin to figure out how he'd wound up with an alchemist, a vampire, an angel, and a demon. It sounded like the start of a bad joke or an awful movie.

  The elevator doors chimed softly before sliding open, and Wyatt led the way into the penthouse, eyes only for the dragons lying in pools of sunlight pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows. "Wow, a Pendragon!"

  Standing by the sofa, a tall, broad man with brown skin and amber eyes cast Wyatt an amused look—a look to which Wyatt was oblivious, his back turned as he focused completely on the dragons—one gold, the other two silver. Shifting his gaze, the man quirked a brow at Jackie. Holding up his hands, Jackie said, "He followed me home, Highness. Seems to know a lot about you folks, by way of someone named Oliver?"

  "Ah," the man replied. "Who is the demon? Phoenix Fairchild I know, by reputation if not in fact. An honor to meet you, Master Fairchild."

  "The honor is mine, Highness," Phoenix demurred.

  Jackie gestured to Ned. "This is Ned. He has to do with that matter I'm investigating. Ned, Prince Amr of Clan Mordred and ruler of the territory."

  Ned shook Amr's hand when he offered it. "I'd heard Clan Mordred had resurfaced, that you'd thrown out the Rust Syndicate and taken over, but I admit I found it hard to believe. Only Clan Mordred I knew was broken up into pieces and didn't stay in any place too long, except for a rumor of a central location somewhere in Canada."

  "That was our home until recently, yes," Amr said as he gestured to the sofa and recliners. "Please, sit. I am told you have some pressing questions and you believe Mordred may be able to provide the answers."

  "If'n you're willing to indulge, Highness. It's come to our attention that the men responsible for Holliday's death, along with a long list of other evil deeds, might in fact be the Kings."

  Amr's face clouded and over by the window, his dragon growled. "I'm fine," Amr murmured, but did not object when the gold dragon rose and padded over to him, climbing up onto the sofa to stretch out across his lap. "Yes, the Kings—Mordred has had more than a few run-ins with that lot. They seem to think that because Clan Pendragon exiled us and declared us an enemy that we would side with the Kings. Everyone tends to forget that the clans, exiled or not, always put the dragons first. Siding with that lot would only bring the dragons to harm. The Kings did not accept no for an answer until a few decades ago, when they abruptly withdrew from everything and went into hiding. I was beginning to think perhaps they had finally disbanded. I suppose it was too good to be true."

  "You got any way of contacting them? Anything you can tell us about them?" Jackie asked.

  "I do not," Amr said. "My father was still in charge when they cut ties with us once and for all, and he threw out anything that was connected to them." He frowned thoughtfully. "However, I believe I know someone who might have come into contact with them, though I cannot say for certain. There was a man, Alec, exiled several years ago from Clan le Savage. He lives in Georgia now, with a sorcerer, though I believe they are currently helping St. George resettle after deposing the syndicate boss. They are close allies of Clan Mordred. I would not be surprised if Alec was, at some point, approached by the Kings. It cannot hurt to ask. Would you like me to contact him for you?"

  Jackie nodded. "Be much obliged, Highness."

  "Wait just one moment." He rose and went into the kitchen, picking
up the phone on the large bar that formed one edge of it, and then moved further away as he quietly conversed with someone.

  "Think we should try to find Barlett?" Wyatt asked.

  "He's dead," Ned replied. "I went to find him last night after I left your place. Firebrand didn't leave much of him."

  Jackie sighed. "That bastard needs to be stopped, but hell if I know how. Immortals are damned hard to beat and he's powerful enough to be a demon himself. If you ain't been able to do it …"

  "If we can just find his partner, we'll have something," Ned replied. "I've never been able to find him, though granted I can't look too hard because it would give me away to them. This is the first time I've come out of hiding—" He broke off, annoyance flickering across his face.

  "Now that you mention it," Jackie said pensively, meeting his eyes, momentarily distracted by the brilliant scarlet-gold of them. "Why did you suddenly start showing up? What drew you back out?"

  Ned shrugged. "I heard about Robin. I wanted to find out more."

  He was lying, but Jackie wasn't quite sure how because his explanation made perfect sense. Before he could press the matter further, however, Amr returned and resumed his seat. "Alec said that he was bothered by some men about a year or so after he was thrown out. They never said who they were, but they seemed particularly keen to hire him for work they would not give much detail on. He said they were very much in line with syndicate-style thinking, which just sealed the deal for him. He threw them out and told them not to come back. All he remembers is that it was three men, one a sorcerer and the other two alchemists. The sorcerer went by the name of Finn, he thinks, though he could not be absolutely certain…" Amr trailed off. "That name seems to interest you."

  "Finn—that's gotta be Finn Wayland, the guy Barlett mentioned," Wyatt said, all but vibrating. "I wish we knew more about him, but I don't know the name."