by R Phoenix
Gideon tensed, but all he said was, “Get on the task force, Detective, and soon.”
Bryce didn’t dignify that with a response, instead tearing the page out of his notepad and offered it to Gideon. “Whatever his fae-ness desires,” he said pleasantly.
Gideon scoffed. “You really are an arrogant fuck,” he muttered. “You’ll be dead within a year at this rate.” Without taking the paper, he headed in the direction of the shiny Mustang Shelby parked at the curb.
“Hey asshole,” Bryce interrupted him. “How about you don’t tell me how to do my job, and I won’t tell you how to do yours, hmm? Maybe then you and your boss can just unclench and get rid of all that bullshit that’s clogging you up?”
Gideon didn’t turn to face him. Instead, he flipped Bryce off and got into the car, closing the door with more force than necessary.
Chapter Thirteen
Gideon didn’t consider himself a good person. He’d hurt people more times than he could count, and he hadn’t batted an eye over it. He was just doing what he was told. It was Leandro who was accountable.
He didn’t lose sleep over it. People like Detective Ackerman were passing nuisances that kept him employed.
Kolt, on the other hand… Kolt had him restless. Not quite losing sleep, but he wasn’t at ease. For fuck’s sake, he was Leandro’s personal security. He didn’t have time to waste worrying about a single slave. There was nothing he could do, anyway; Kol’tso was Leandro’s property.
But how could he do nothing when he’d seen just how haunted the incubus was beneath the mask he always wore?
When the words free will kept getting thrown around, as casually as though they meant nothing at all?
This was different than the shit he usually turned a blind eye to. Slavery was worse than a beating. It took a toll that went far beyond the physical, and if he’d been wrong, if the things Leandro was doing to Kolt weren’t what the incubus wanted…
If he really couldn’t escape the image that pervaded otherkin society about incubi to the point where it overrode his choice, that was something he might lose sleep over — assuming Kolt hadn’t just been fucking with him.
His visions were unclear, indistinct, but there had always been too many paths Kolt could take for him to see the reality before it happened.
Gideon had been waiting for the incubus, seated at the bar and drinking until he’d spotted Kolt at last. He intercepted Kolt as he was on his way to the high rollers room, stepping into his path and forcing him to stop. His eyes flicked over the incubus when he reeled back a little dramatically, as though he was really going to hurt Leandro’s favorite toy. He didn’t see any damage, but that didn’t mean anything. He had never seen any damage, and he’d heard about how resilient the incubi were.
The bracelet was gone from Kolt’s wrist, and it briefly caught Gideon off guard. He hadn’t expected that. “Kolt,” he said as he recovered, nodding in greeting.
“Gideon,” Kolt answered, sizing him up the same way he’d been sizing Kolt up.
Gideon didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? He’d planned on talking to the detective… but on account of Ackerman being a complete asshole, this was plan B. Unfortunately, he was still conceptualizing.
“He took it off,” Gideon said, like that wasn’t obvious. “I’m glad,” he added flimsily.
Kolt touched his wrist practically on cue and shrugged, looking back up at him. “Yeah,” he said. “Since when do you care?”
Gideon’s jaw tightened. Since he’d found out the incubus wasn’t what he’d thought, but he didn’t want to say that. “What if I do?”
Kolt regarded him, narrowing his eyes. “What do you want, Gideon?” he asked instead of answering the question.
“I don’t fucking know,” Gideon said. Helping Kolt had never been this hard, but then he’d never gone off half-cocked either. He usually had a plan. “To check on you.” He sighed. With all plans failing him, Gideon took a step to the side, getting out of Kolt’s way and admitting defeat. He was out of his depth here.
The incubus didn’t move, staring him down instead like he hadn’t been trying to get away from Gideon until then.
Kolt’s stare didn’t measure up to Leandro’s icy looks, but he was a fucking contender. Gideon found the sharp-eyed look a little unnerving — like the incubus was seeing right through him and his weak intentions.
“I’m being good,” Kolt said with a casual shrug.
“Never said you weren’t,” Gideon responded, sharper than intended. But those were the roles they played. Kolt was just a high-end sex doll, and Gideon was just an extension of Leandro. “You should know Barsum is in there,” he said, lowering his voice.
Kolt hesitated then, something grim setting his jaw. “Great!” he said sarcastically, shoulders slumping.
He’d have felt that way too. He couldn’t imagine Barsum was going to be overly thrilled with Kolt. “I’m on duty in there all night,” he added, just as quietly. “Okay?” He wanted to say something more, but really, what could he say? He wasn’t good at shit like this.
The incubus snorted. “Fat lot of good that did me last time.”
Gideon’s face went stony. If Kolt knew half the shit he did to protect him—
And he had helped as much as he could last time. If Kolt hadn’t been such an ungrateful little—
“I’ll be there anyway,” he said flatly. He gestured toward the door. “After you.”
Kolt clearly didn't want to go, but after a last dark look in his direction, he squared his shoulders, tilted his head up, and strode in like he owned the place instead of the place owning him.
Gideon followed him in. He didn’t know what else he could do, but he could at least keep an eye on Barsum — properly this time.
He kept an eye on Kolt, even as Darcy came up to him to give him the lay of the land.
“Davenport has been waving his magic around. Nero is armed. He's got a gun, but he's behaving, and it's not like it can actually hurt those ‘wolves,” she told him, nodding at each table in turn. He heard her, and he even took in the information she provided him with, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the incubus.
It was easy to put wards in place to curb magic. Bullets — as human as they were — were harder to protect against. If this wasn’t the high-rollers room, the gun never would have been acceptable.
It took a moment, but eventually Barsum spotted Kolt. Before he could act, Nero caught Kolt by the wrist and drew him in close — the lesser of evils, but not much of an improvement.
“Oh, Leandro will love that,” Darcy said with a smirk, echoing his sentiments. She patted him on the shoulder to wish him good luck.
He grunted, acknowledging the words but not responding as she left for the front room. He didn’t know if Leandro was going to be interested in the high rollers tonight, but he had a suspicion he would be if he heard about Nero taking an interest in Kolt.
He crossed over to stand closer without giving off the impression he was actually surveilling anyone in particular. As far as anyone knew, he was just looking out for Leandro’s property.
If they even noticed at all.
By now Kolt was leaning against Nero, an arm casually around the fae’s neck as he smiled indulgently at the guy. “I guess I am lucky,” the incubus crooned. “But you seem to be doing fine without me,” he added sweetly, gesturing at the chips before them.
“But I could do better, no?” Nero grinned.
Gideon and the dealer both stared hard at the fae when he blatantly placed his gun on the table to free up a hand. Kolt didn't blink or flinch at all, not even when the man reached up to twist the long blond braid around his fingers.
“You can always do better. Isn't that the American dream?” Nero laughed. “C'mon, I don't see enough of you, and Leandro…” Nero had the decency to cast a quick look around before finishing that sentence. “He just lets you wander off all alone. He clearly wants to lose you to a contender…”
&nb
sp; Kolt drew in a breath but went slack right after. He leaned closer, eventually sliding into Nero's lap complacently and offering him a winning smile.
Now all Gideon could think about was whether or not Kolt really wanted to sit on the lap of every Santa in the house.
Maybe he was a hypocrite, seeing as how part of his job was making sure people did what Leandro wanted. But paying a debt wasn't the same as having to play whore for men like Nero and the increasingly impatient Barsum, who watched Kolt hungrily still.
“I'm a terrible liar. I suck at poker,” Kolt warned with a grin, looking careless as ever and disproving the point he was making.
“I'll teach you. I'm a great liar.” Nero responded with a laugh.
It might have been cute, the two of them together, flirting and laughing, if there hadn’t been a gun on the table and a choke collar resting against Kolt’s clavicle.
Gideon was far too aware of the nuances of Kolt’s interactions now, just as he was well aware of how Leandro would feel about Kolt in the lap of a fae who waved a gun around like it was a toy.
It was as good an excuse as any to step in, really.
He strode forward, his voice quiet but confident as he ordered, “Put the gun away or get out.” Others in the place might've wielded deadly magic or boasted the ability to shift into predators, but those things were rarely a threat to Leandro or Kolt.
Nero and Kolt looked at him. The incubus had the gall to look annoyed, but Nero just looked confused.
Gideon looked pointedly at the Glock on the table.
Nero’s gaze drifted back to the gun slowly. The fae broke into a grin, as if he’d only just realized the weapon was even there. “Of course,” he said, startlingly forthcoming. “Here, hold this,” he told Kolt. He picked the gun up, exactly as if it was a fucking toy, and handed it to the incubus.
Gideon noticed the safety wasn’t even fucking on as Nero passed the thing off. Kolt didn’t respond right away, eying the gun and casting a sidelong look at Gideon, as if asking for permission, or daring him to stop him. Gideon wasn’t sure which.
Kolt’s fingers curled around the gun, and he eyed it with no small measure of awe.
Gideon was acutely aware of the fact that the normals of the world frequently dealt with mass shootings, probably because of people like Kolt. A little on edge, a lot bitter, suddenly handed some opportunity. He wasn’t going to take any fucking risks, especially not with what could happen bleeding into his mind.
“Put the safety on and hand it to me, Kolt,” Gideon commanded. It earned him an offended look from the incubus.
“Why?” Kolt challenged. “Afraid I’ll hurt someone?” He pointedly lifted the muzzle of the gun up to just under his chin, staring Gideon dead in the eye. “Or myself?”
Fuck, that possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind, Leandro would have his hide if Kolt hurt himself.
Nero burst out into delighted laughter, clapping his hand down hard on Kolt’s back in a show of hilarity.
Gideon didn’t experience the unfolding event the same way at all, and the way that hand clapped down between Kolt’s shoulders made his jaw clench a little tighter. “Yes,” he finally answered Kolt. He hadn't exactly been the epitome of stability lately, and saying no very well could have led to him wanting to prove a point. “Now, Kolt.”
“I’m not a fucking child,” Kolt said, still resisting him.
“I gave it to him, Orion, what’s the problem?” Nero pointed out, leaning back in his seat and casting him a challenging look to match Kolt’s attitude.
“It’s Gideon,” Kolt corrected mildly.
“Whatever,” Nero said with a hand wave. “Are you more worried about a human gun than little old me?” he asked pointedly.
The ice he was skating on suddenly becoming very thin. The ways in which this all could end badly blurred his vision. Nero was not to be taken lightly. He was borderline insane with a penchant for bloodshed, and Kolt—
He stopped himself before he got lost on possibilities that might keep him from dealing with reality. “No. Kol’tso, the gun.” He didn’t feel the need to explain himself. Too many words would only get distracting and create more variety in the futures he could see.
Kolt wavered, meeting his eyes and lowering the gun at least.
“Full name and everything,” Nero crooned with a smirk, twisting his fingers in and out of Kolt’s hair. “You really are worried.” the fae concluded.
Worried, yes — but not about Nero.
“Tell you what though.” There was a ripple of magic in the air as Nero continued, “You take that gun from him, and I will pluck out your left eye and skull fuck you with it. Nice and slow…”
The threats rolled off of him. If the fae attacked him when he was defending Kolt, and if Nero happened to get the drop on him, Leandro would fuck Nero’s world up, and they all knew it.
“It’s fine,” Kolt cut in before anything else could be said. “I should probably have both my hands free for you anyway,” He offered an indolent smile at Nero, who looked back at Kolt with a stony and cold expression.
“It’s my gun,” Nero said childishly.
“I’ll take the gun, or I’ll take Kolt,” Gideon said flatly. “I’ll let you choose which.”
Another bubble of laughter welled up from Nero, and to Gideon’s relief, he saw Kolt slide the safety back on the gun.
“You’re really worried I’ll hurt Leandro’s little incubus?” Nero asked, running his hand along Kolt’s hair. “I can do that in oh so many ways. Where’s the harm in a little human fun, hmm? The werewolves aren’t nervous. Are you, guys?” he asked, turning to his fellow players.
“We just want to fucking play,” one of them responded darkly.
“Get out.” Gideon had had enough. He held out his hand to Kolt, looking expectantly at him. It was his chance to get him away from Nero, Barsum, everyone, for at least a few minutes, but Kolt didn’t fucking move. The incubus looked like a deer in the headlights.
“Nah, forget it,” Nero said, suddenly dismissive. “Take him then.” The fae took the gun from Kolt’s hand and nudged him up gently. “I’ll see you later, cutie,” he promised Kolt, who seemed a bit bewildered as the fae simply turned back to his game.
And still the incubus didn’t take the hand that was outstretched for him.
As mercurial as fae could be, the sudden shift didn’t bode well — and Gideon sure as fuck didn’t like it. If this hadn’t been the room for Leandro’s wealthiest guests, he would’ve cleared it out for less.
“I said to get out, Nero,” Gideon said flatly. “That isn’t negotiable.”
Nero leaned back in his chair, looking up at him with a smirk. “I’m making your boss a lot of money, I let his toy go, so why don’t you fluff your feathers somewhere else, bible school?” he challenged.
Gideon moved forward to grab the man and bodily toss him out if need be, but Kolt intercepted him before he could get that far. The incubus’ hand caught Gideon on his abdomen, just above the button on his slacks, and slid smoothly up to rest square in the middle of his chest.
It patted him there a moment, while Kolt leaned in close to him. “Let it go, please?” the incubus murmured quietly enough that Gideon had to strain to hear him. “Nero’s not a bad guy. He’ll behave, I promise.”
The touch was more distracting than he wanted it to be, and he hesitated. As it was, this scene was undermining his authority a whole hell of a lot already.
Gideon could stay firm and kick Nero out, reminding the others that they still had to listen when he spoke up, but it meant leaving Kolt alone in a room with Barsum — which was one of the things he’d hoped to avoid.
His fingers closed around Kolt’s wrist, and he urged the incubus’ hand away from his chest. It wasn’t a big improvement, as his fingers lingered on Kolt’s bare skin for a beat longer than he’d have liked. He released him quickly, his attention snapping back to Nero.
“Kolt really wants you to stay,” Gideon explaine
d dryly. “And I’d hate to upset Leandro’s pet by forcing you to leave. But don’t push me again. I wasn’t hired to take anyone’s shit.”
Yet there he was, doing it anyway.
The relief in Kolt’s eyes was reason enough to take some shit though, even if it meant working a little harder to remind people he had no problem kicking their asses. The incubus didn’t say anything else to him, just offered him a small smile before turning back to Nero. He slid the same hand that had been on Gideon’s chest along the fae’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper something in his ear.
He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he couldn’t miss the way Kolt nipped at the shell of the man’s ear. That hand slipped down, along the front of the man’s chest — so fucking far down! Kolt dropped a brief, practically chaste kiss on the side of Nero’s neck, doting on him, smoothing ruffled feathers, and likely making promises for later, in private.
The whole thing made Gideon’s stomach turn.
The display didn’t take long. It was a matter of seconds before Kolt straightened up again, cast him a sidelong look, and moved along to the next person vying for his fucking attention.
Gideon’s jaw was tight, and his mind went again to Kolt’s bitterness the night they’d spoken.
How had he never realized?
Chapter Fourteen
As energized as Kolt felt physically, that didn’t account from the mental and emotional fatigue he was suffering. He was tired, and it was affecting his performance.
He gagged involuntarily, but before he could pull back, he felt fingers tighten on the back of his head. The man groaned as he pushed his cock a little farther down Kolt’s throat — which only made him gag harder. His body tried to jerk away, but it didn’t help. He still tasted the come on his tongue and felt it in the back of his throat. He had tears in his eyes, threatening to spill, but at least it was done now.
Once Seth Davenport released him to pull his pants back up, Kolt fell back on his hand. He blinked away the excess moisture in his eyes and wiped his mouth with one hand. His jaw was sore, and he flexed it twice, feeling the joint complain as he did.
