by R Phoenix
Kolt jumped back to get away from his assailant, nearly tripping over Barsum’s foot and stumbling once more, much like Bambi on fucking ice. Instinctively, he veered in Leandro’s direction, who caught him infallibly. Leandro’s arms wrapped around him, tight and protective.
The silence was excruciatingly loud in the aftermath, and he touched one of his ears with a wince, fearing he might’ve gone deaf. His fingers came away with blood, but he was standing.
Barsum was not.
Kolt could hear his own heartbeat thundering loudly in his ears now. He realized he wasn’t deaf, as he heard Leandro’s as well — and the fae’s was steady as a fucking metronome.
He looked back at Barsum — at Barsum’s corpse, rather — down on the ground behind him. His mouth was already dry, but now it felt like there was sawdust in it as he tried to swallow, and he wet his lips.
Leandro had just fucking executed the guy.
“Gideon, Arla,” Leandro said, his voice sounding like it came from across the room rather than right in front of him.
Gideon nodded, and the bartender’s head and shoulders slowly came up from behind the bar, her face pale as she came out of hiding.
“Get this cleaned up,” the fae directed, before turning away from the dead body, dragging Kolt along and keeping him from looking at it any longer. “Are you hurt?” he asked, and the concern in his voice was almost as terrifying as… whatever the fuck had just happened.
Kolt realized he was shaking, and his fingers clutched at Leandro’s shirt like his life depended on it. “You killed him,” he muttered, and his own voice sounded just as fucking distant. Again, he touched his ears with one hand, rubbing at the blood and shaking his head in disbelief.
Leandro took his hand, looking down at the blood on Kolt’s fingertips. “My control wasn’t what it should’ve been.” He sighed, like he hadn’t just contained that freezing whirlwind to keep it from completely tearing the interior of the casino apart. “Air pressure. If it doesn’t heal quickly, I’ll send for a doctor. Did he hurt you?”
He barely followed all of those concerned words as his attention drifted to Gideon moving behind Leandro, reaching down and taking Barsum’s hands. Kolt sucked in a breath. “No,” he said vaguely. “He didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted sex,” Kolt explained a little hopelessly.
He shuddered as he saw the way the big body reacted to being dragged like only a lifeless thing could. No resistance, no muscle tension… It was disturbing.
Leandro touched his face, gently urging him to look away from the body even though he felt that ripple of anger threaten to emerge from the fae again. “Come,” he said. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
Kolt swallowed again. There was still that dry feeling in his mouth and he slowly let go of the death grip he had on Leandro’s shirt. “Okay,” he agreed with a slow nod.
Leandro kissed his forehead then started toward the stairs leading up to his home — their home. The fae guided him straight to the bedroom, though his lips pursed as he looked at Kolt again. “Let’s get this off of you. It stinks of him.”
He didn’t argue, the shock of it all descending over him. He let Leandro undo the buttons of the shirt and push it off of his shoulders. “They all still think I’m your whore,” he said quietly, not looking up at the fae, but staring hard at the center of his chest instead.
Leandro gently tugged the shirt from around him, balling it up and tossing it out of the room before beginning on his pants. “They won’t make that mistake again after tonight,” he said. A small smile curved onto his lips, something almost gleeful, a childlike pleasure he’d come to associate with the fae’s better moods.
“And if they do?” Kolt asked cautiously. “Will you kill all of them?”
“If I have to.” Leandro helped Kolt take off his pants. “I doubt I’ll need to,” he said, sighing, and there was a little too much disappointment in the fae’s voice as he said it.
Kolt swallowed, sagging down on the bed. “What if you’re not there when they do, like just now?”
“Then they won’t die as cleanly as Barsum when I get to them.”
It wasn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear. Kolt exhaled with a shaky breath as Leandro sat down next to him, pulling him into his lap. He leaned against the fae, sliding his arms around the man’s neck as he did. Leandro nuzzled his throat and kissed lightly along the skin.
“Don’t leave me alone…” Kolt said softly, letting his fingers slide into Leandro’s hair as he tilted his own head to the side to give the fae free access to his neck.
Leandro placed another kiss against his jugular, then pulled back to claim a kiss. It was deep and firm, reassuring him and claiming him all at the same time. “If you leave this room, you’ll be with Gideon or myself at all times,” he promised against his lips. The fae ran a warm hand down Kolt’s bare back. “No one will touch you but me, my pet. No one.”
Chapter Eighteen
Whatever case file Emma had her head buried in could wait. Besides, her door was always open, anyway. He rapped his fingers on the frame.
“Tell me about slaves,” Bryce said as he let himself in. Without waiting for an answer, he went on, “How do you get one, and how do you lose one?” He wondered how important context was for this conversation a little too late, but instead of offering an explanation, he flopped down in the chair next to her desk and leaned back. “I asked Percy, but he got all twitchy and nervous on me.”
“Might have something to do with the fact that it’s illegal for humans to own them,” the resident legal guru slash agent slash whatever she was replied, arching a brow as she looked up at him. “And no, I’m not going to help you find a loophole, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she added bluntly.
He drew breath to tell her he didn’t need help finding loopholes. That was kind of his thing. But it seemed unwise to keep bringing up the transgressions that had landed him in the Organization with every new cop he met, and Emma was the closest thing to a cop out of everyone he liked at the Organization.
“I’m asking for a friend,” he said with a vague hand gesture, offering her a casual smirk.
She didn’t look amused.
“No, I’m serious,” Bryce said. “Theoretically, if I were fae, how would I acquire a slave without bringing them from my own realm?” He already knew about that particular loophole. “I mean, it’s illegal for otherkin to enslave humans or otherkin, yet there’s slaves fucking everywhere, and they didn’t all come from the fae realm,” he decided, shaking his head.
“The fae love games, bets, and deals,” she told him. “Not everyone is careful when they’re dealing with them, and their contracts are binding. Most of their slaves are there…” She hesitated. “Not willingly, exactly, but they’re legally bound.” Emma eyed him, then seemed to realize she wasn’t going to get rid of him quickly. She saved and closed the case file on her computer. “Why?”
“Morbid fascination,” he lied effortlessly, not missing a beat. “Can you get out of a contract?” he added the question too quickly, and he realized that this was how rumors started.
“Liar,” Emma said. “I didn’t get this far without learning how to call bullshit, Ackerman.”
“Oh, come on,” he said with a scoff. “Two weeks ago, I wasn’t aware of the existence of elves and dragons and talking trees. I’m going for a crash course here, Emma, please?” he begged. “Don’t make me ask Tobias. He’ll never let me go again.”
“Maybe he shouldn’t,” she muttered. “Does this have something to do with the fact that you pissed off the fae who owns the Lucky Blight?” She looked at him, tensing abruptly. “Please don’t tell me you got yourself involved in a deal with Leandro.”
“What? No! I’m not a complete moron. I did learn a thing or two since I started here.”
Unfortunately, the deal he’d gotten himself involved in had started the fucking night before he started there, but Emma didn’t need to know that.
“It’s— Have you ever been? T
o Leandro’s casino?” Bryce asked, not sure how much hands-on experience everyone at the Organization had. A lot of them seemed to be pure desk jockeys who rarely got fresh air.
Emma was looking at him a little too hard, but he’d always been a good liar. “A few times. Not a huge fan of gambling, though.”
“It’s a ride, right? I mean from the get go, it’s all—” He made a hand gesture of mind-blowing-ness. “It’s so easy to forget reality there, and everything is just—” Another hand gesture. “You know?” he tried, shaking his head.
“That’s the point,” Emma replied dryly. “It’s what they’re good at.”
They. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but he noticed it then. Wasn’t she some kind of fae?
“So, in light of all that, I… may have led his slave to believe that I could… help,” he said. Plain as fucking day.
Emma stared at him. He couldn’t read her expression, but she wasn’t exactly jumping for joy. His heroic promise was more suitable to a vigilante than a jaded and bitter detective.
“I figured it would be easy. The slave is an incubus, and a slave. But I’m finding it’s really… not easy.”
Emma barked out a laugh. “Not easy,” she repeated, shaking her head. “Even if you somehow circumvent the contract, you still have to deal with the fae, and they don’t like it when someone outmaneuvers them.” She paused then added, “And that’s about as much of an understatement as it not being easy.”
“Right,” Bryce said, feeling a bit miffed. Maybe he’d gotten a bit ahead of himself, but surely it wasn’t something to laugh about. There had to be some way. “But if, say, Leandro got arrested, all his belongings in this realm would be forfeit, right? I’m just looking for intel. I don’t know nearly enough about this stuff, so can you just… tell me the ways to lose a slave?”
“You’re in way over your head, Ackerman,” Emma told him. “You’re a rookie. No one’s going to arrest him.”
“I’m not a fucking rookie, and people need to stop saying that,” he muttered. “Just… can you tell me about the slavery thing or not?”
Emma was quiet for several long moments, then she sighed and slumped back in her chair. She looked tired all of a sudden. “In the highly unlikely event he got arrested, his belongings would be confiscated. Not permanently, so no slaves would be freed unless he was convicted. It wouldn’t be fast, and the slave might even end up in a worse situation in the meantime because there isn’t much precedent for it.” Her brow furrowed. “Sometimes contracts have flaws, but they’re usually pretty solid when the fae do them. They make good lawyers for a reason,” she said in her usual dry way, but there was no humor in her voice. “Does he want out, or are you just on a crusade?”
“Bit of both,” Bryce muttered noncommittally. “What if the fae died?”
“Don’t get any bright ideas,” Emma warned him. “In most cases, the slave would be freed when their master died. Not all the time, though. Sometimes they just go to someone of the master’s choosing. Some slaves end up serving an entire family line for generations.”
“This is insane,” he muttered. “Isn’t this insane? I mean… I can’t keep a slave, so why should the fae?” he continued, not altogether missing the fact that he sounded almost disgruntled over his lack of a slave.
Emma glared at him.
“I mean— you know what I mean. This ain’t right, is what I’m saying,” he clarified. “What trumps a contract?”
“Not much. Slavery falls under cultural freedom and protections for the fae,” Emma replied. “Since most of the enslaved signed contracts, there’s not a whole lot that can get them out.” She drummed her fingers along the edge of her desk.
“Inhumane treatment?” he tried feebly. “It works for dogs and cats…”
Emma snorted. “I’m not sure the fae are capable of humane treatment. Other species have some moral code, some form of humanity, but fae are from a different realm. The cultural freedom laws were designed to take that into account.”
“What about the cultural freedom of the slave?” Bryce asked, not even entirely sure where he was going with the question. It just seemed insanely ironic that a law on freedom was what made slavery legal for otherkin. Well, legal to an extent, but it seemed to be a pretty broad subject.
“Once they agree to a deal with the fae, they lose their freedom,” Emma said bluntly. “The only time we can intervene is if we suspect a fae of mind control. They can trick and deceive, but they can’t force someone into slavery.”
Bryce sighed, looking up at the ceiling. He wasn’t exactly getting the answer he wanted there — maybe because it didn’t exist. “So basically,” he considered, looking tiredly at Emma, “there’s nothing I can do?”
“Unless there’s something wrong with the contract or something happens to Leandro, no.” Emma paused, then said more quietly, “There are otherkin trying to get slavery stricken from the list of supposed freedoms, but it’s an ongoing battle.”
“It fucking should be,” Bryce grumbled. “How can people condone that shit? Or otherkin, for that matter? I mean—” He shook his head, baffled.
“Because it’s the law, and that’s the way it’s always been,” Emma replied as though she was quoting something she’d heard countless times. “And no one wants to be the one to tell the fae ‘no.’”
Bryce scoffed. He had no problem telling them ‘no.’ If he had even half a chance of getting Kolt out of there, he’d be on it, but he didn’t like where this conversation was going or how it seemed to insist that — well, that there was nothing he could do. “I kind of told him it could be done,” he said slowly. He glanced at Emma, realizing this was more of his own moral dilemma than hers, but he didn’t want to be alone in this.
Again that incredulous look that made him feel like he’d just told her the sky was green. If that was her poker face, it was no wonder she didn’t like gambling.
“No one will believe me when I say this, because I accidentally fucked an incubus,” he muttered irritably. “But I think he really needs to get out of there. It’s not healthy for an incubus. It’s— What if something preventable happens?” he prompted her, hoping to finally get her thinking in solutions rather than problems.
“An incubus having a willing crowd to feed on every night?” Emma asked, arching a brow. “We don’t know much about them, but we know they need to feed on sexual energy. Where else is he going to go? Even if you got him out from under Leandro, he wouldn’t have a place to go, and he’d still have to eat. It’s probably more dangerous to get him out.”
Bryce stared at her, not sure he was hearing this right, or the implications behind it. “Excuse you?” he said with a frown. “So, we’re just assuming that he’s going to be a danger to humankind, even though we have no reason to believe he — or his kind — is?” he recapped. “So it’s better to leave him enslaved to a fae? Because at least then he’s not a potential risk? Is… is that the racist bullshit you want to go with? Why don’t we just get rid of all the otherkin, hmm? Round them up, all Salem and McCarthy?”
Emma gave him a look. “I’m all for ending slavery, Ackerman,” she said, her voice hardening. “But there’s a right way and a wrong way. You’re so focused on getting him out that you’re not thinking of what comes next. Let’s say we do get him freed. What comes after that? You planning on taking responsibility for him while he transitions into society?”
“He’s already in society,” he remarked with a scoff. “It’s not like Leandro keeps him in a cage. He’s more socially competent than most people in the Organization,” he added, deadpan.
“So he has a place to live, a steady income, a wardrobe of his own, and every other basic necessity?” Emma retorted. “Social skills aren’t the only ones he’s going to need.”
Okay, so maybe he hadn’t thought it all through.
“Well why can’t he get a job like anyone else? I don’t see a problem with that. And fuck, if that’s the biggest issue, you bet your fucking ass he
can sleep on my couch until he’s on his feet,” he said, not sure if that was making things better or worse.
“You know damn well that isn’t the biggest issue, but you need to use the brain that has to be in there somewhere,” Emma said sharply. “You’re not the first person to try to get someone out of slavery. Friends, family members…” She shook her head. “The fae are powerful. Some people think they have too much influence on politics, and they might be right. Even if you managed to get him out, we,” she emphasized the word, “would be the ones responsible for finding him and bringing him back to Leandro.”
Bryce knew he couldn’t just bust Kolt out by any means. It had to be done right, or he would only make things more difficult for himself.
“Well, that’s why I’m here, Emma,” he said imploringly. “There has to be a legal way to get him out and away from that jackass.” He was starting to sound like a broken record, even to himself.
“There isn’t one,” Emma said, her eyes searching his expression. “There’s nothing you can do to get him out. Maybe if you could get your hands on a copy of their contract, I could find something, but it’s doubtful. I’m sorry, Ackerman, but it’s the law. Only thing you can do is work with the people trying to get it changed or hope that Leandro fucks up.”
“Fucks up how?” he asked shortly. He was aware that everyone had to know about his fucking escapades on the police force; it wasn’t like his file was closed. Someone like Emma had surely scoured it and read all about his penchant for tampering with evidence.
But she had to have a fucking example, some precedent he could replicate, somehow — legal or otherwise.
“The unlikely event someone manages to find cause to arrest and convict him, or he gets himself in debt. Don’t get any ideas about trying to set him up or kill him, because it’ll backfire on you hard,” she added. “I’ll see if I can find anything, but most of the cases against fae contracts lose.”
Emma was starting to look impatient, but he ignored it. “Get himself in debt?” Bryce questioned. After all his badgering and asking she hadn’t mentioned that yet. “How would that help?”
