by TJ Nichols
The screen on his cell dimmed. He needed to reply, but he didn’t want to meet Tendric anywhere public. He didn’t want to be seen socializing with a mytho. Although he passed pretty well, people might notice Tendric wasn’t human. Then he hated that he was even thinking like that. He’d been on the other side of that behavior growing up. He wasn’t a bigot. He thought mythos were people—or at least the ones capable of speech were people. But if word trickled back to the captain that he was friendly with mythos and arresting humans, he could kiss his career goodbye.
He started typing, but deleted it. He didn’t want Tendric at his place either.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust himself. There was something about the way Tendric looked at him… spoke to him… knew entirely too much about him.
Fuck. Jordan ran his fingers through his hair. Either way he was screwed.
Better here, in private. He glanced down at his black slip. He’d throw a T-shirt on. It would be fine. They could talk like colleagues. That’s all they were, but his mouth was dry as he typed the invitation. Come to my place.
He added the Mission district address and waited for the reply. He’d finished his beer before it came.
On my way—not on wings.
What? Oh. He hadn’t even thought of that. Having a dragon land out front would be tough to explain, and he didn’t think his neighbors would appreciate a mytho turning up in what was still a very human neighborhood.
He threw on a dark gray T-shirt, dumped food in Sinner’s bowl, and went out the back to call the cat in. She slinked out of the shadows to glare at him for spoiling her fun.
“If you don’t come in now, you’ll be out all night, and if you get into a fight, you’ll have to go to the vet. You don’t want that.” And he didn’t want to have to deal with her bad mood for the week after a vet visit.
She flicked her tail as though annoyed by the reminder, but she followed him up the stairs and only tried to trip him twice. He wasn’t going to save any more cats. They didn’t seem to appreciate it. On the other hand, a dog would be too needy. At least Sinner didn’t care that his hours weren’t always regular or sensible.
She jumped onto her favorite place on the back of the sofa and proceeded to knead the cloth while she watched him, daring him to tell her to stop. He ran his hand down her back and got a swipe with extended claws for the effort.
“You are such a bitch.”
Sinner turned and headbutted him, purring as though he’d just complimented her.
The doorbell buzzed. “We have a visitor. Try to be nice.”
And he’d try to be professional. But the satin rubbing against his skin beneath his T-shirt whispered its betrayal.
Chapter 9
KELLS LIVED in a nice suburb and had an even nicer apartment. Edra followed him upstairs and tried to pay more attention to the building than the ass in front of him. Kells smelled different this evening—nicer. Edra flicked his tongue and tried to work out what it was. Jasmine? Kells opened the door and ushered him into a very modern apartment full of sleek lines and silvery appliances.
A hissing made him jump. It wasn’t a basilisk ready to strike, but a black cat that was fluffed up and arched like a bridge.
Cats didn’t like him, but he didn’t mind them. They were quite nice if cooked slowly, a bit chewy when raw. Edra hissed back, which sent the cat scrambling off the sofa and deeper into the apartment.
Kells let the door close with a click and stared at him.
“She hissed first,” Edra said, knowing he probably shouldn’t have responded. A human wouldn’t have hissed at a cat.
Kells blinked, and lowered his gaze to Edra’s chest. “You’re… umm….”
That was when Edra realized his skin was cold. Dammit. He shivered and tried to shake off the scare that had caused him to lose visibility. His fingers gleamed silver. “It happens. I’ll be fine in a minute or two.”
He was glad Kells couldn’t see the embarrassment burning his cheeks. This was not the impression he wanted to make when he visited Kells at home for the first time.
“Cat allergy?” Kells asked, giving him an out.
Edra laughed and considered taking it, but he decided on the truth. “No.” His face tingled as warmth returned. “Collapse-related issue.”
“Oh.” Kells frowned. “But you can shift, unlike werewolves?”
“Yeah.” Werewolves had been able to shift in the mytho world. Now they were part human and part wolf. “We were all affected differently.”
“And you can disappear.”
How honest should he be? He didn’t want it getting out that invisibility was one of his skills, so he settled for a little white lie. “I can’t control it. I’m not a thief or criminal using my mytho skills for evil.” He only used his skills to help mythos, but there was a little too much snap in his words.
“I didn’t think you were.” Kells was still studying him. Then pink blossomed on his cheeks, and he looked away as though that could hide what he’d been thinking. “Did you want a beer?”
Edra checked his hands. He was visible again. “Thanks. Your cat?”
Kells nodded as he opened the fridge. He pulled out two beers, flipped the caps off both, and handed one over. “She’s not friendly.”
“No shit.” He hadn’t tried to be nice either. He probably should’ve, but he’d been unprepared.
“I should’ve warned you.” Kells picked at the label instead of meeting his gaze. “I didn’t know cats were an issue for dragons.”
“It’s fine.” Now they were standing around being awkward because he’d been rude to the cat. He hadn’t known what to expect from the invitation to drop around, but it wasn’t this. This was a glimpse beyond what he already knew about Kells. But was it a friendly gesture or the start of more? “Can I sit?”
“Yes, sorry.” Kells sat in the armchair to the side and indicated for Edra to take the sofa.
Kells kept sneaking glances.
Edra wasn’t that subtle. He looked and liked what he saw. He liked the scent of lust on the air even better, but they weren’t even on a first-name basis yet. “So, about this den visit.” That was what he was there to discuss. “What do you need to do at your end to make it happen?”
“Find officers willing to take the tour. Get the captain to approve.” He took a sip of beer. “They keep raiding the dens because they’re hoping for an illegal drug bust.”
Edra frowned. “It’s been ten years. No drug beyond Bliss has ever been found in a den. We don’t dabble in your poisons.” Which was mostly true. Some mythos had been caught using meth—not a good drug for a werewolf—and a few elves had overdosed on heroin, but that was in the early days when they were seeking an escape. They all wanted to go home and didn’t want to believe it was gone… destroyed.
Human scientists had tried to find Tariko, and the Strega had tried to reopen the portals at standing stones—mythos and humans had once used them to cross between worlds—but there was no world on the other side.
Edra studied his beer. “They do it because they want to catch humans there, don’t they? This was timed because of the election. It makes us look bad, even if nothing is found.”
“The satyrs have to keep the humans out,” Kells said without looking at him. “If they find one….” He sighed.
“How often?” Edra asked softly.
Kells leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, the neck of his T-shirt hanging open. The black strap of something beneath the T-shirt was revealed against his collarbone. Edra let his gaze follow the black strap into the T-shirt where a little lace showed. His lips curved, but he smothered the smile by taking a sip of beer.
His lingerie in the den had been red.
Kells didn’t look at Edra. He studied his beer as though expecting it to bite him on the hand. “Not that often. Once a month. It’s dangerous.”
“If you’d been there—”
Kells shot him a look. “I know. I won’t go back.”
“You want to.” Edra could see the need in Kells’s eyes.
“It’s easy.” Kells ground the words out as though admitting the truth hurt.
That was the same reason Edra went—there was no pretense, no games. He could get what he wanted and leave. “It would be beneficial if I knew when the raids would be.”
Kells shook his head. “I won’t get that info. I’m too much of a mytho sympathizer after I arrested the teen Francis caught.”
“Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure. But don’t expect the charges to stick, even though we have the footage.”
“I won’t, but it’s a start.” When humans like the mob at the temple still thought they could terrorize mythos for just existing, there was a long way to go. “No charges from tonight?”
“No, but the mayor’s son is involved in that group.”
“Ah.” The beer was bitter on his tongue. “So let’s start educating the cops. The invitation is for ten officers. We’ll show them exactly what happens out front and back and show that some humans use forged mytho cards and that they’re confiscated if the satyrs realize.”
“Forged ID cards are a police matter.”
“I believe a box of them was dropped at the station three years ago, and nothing happened. Human drug dealers have tried to take Bliss, first by payment and then, when the satyrs refused, by stealing. The cops did nothing. It’s only a crime when the satyrs sell to humans, not when humans use it or steal it.”
Kells stared at him. “What do you want out of this?”
“I want the cops to stop harassing us, to catch those who go after us.”
“I’m not a miracle worker.”
“No one is. That magic is dead.” Mostly, the Strega were unreliable now, and their magic was more limited.
A crease formed on Kells’s forehead. “I’m not sure if you’re joking or serious.”
“Serious.”
That only deepened the frown. “I’ll talk to the captain tomorrow. In how much detail are you going to show the cops what happens?”
“Not that much.” Edra smiled. “Have you been out back to watch?”
Kells took a swig of beer. “I don’t need to see to know.”
“I wasn’t talking about knowing, I was meaning for fun?”
Kells lifted his gaze and held Edra’s. “You go out the back.”
Edra shrugged. “Yes.”
“You were there one night and saw me.”
He nodded. There was no point in hiding it.
“Did you know I was human?”
“Not at first glance. They called you ‘the Elf,’ and maybe, with your hair longer, it might’ve been a believable lie.” Edra leaned forward, and his tongue darted over his lip and captured Kells’s attention. “You seemed to be very… happy.”
Kells pressed his lips together. “We aren’t here to discuss what I do… did… but how to get the cops to be more cooperative. You won’t always be dealing with me.”
“Why not? Why isn’t there an investigator for me to deal with?”
“I’m supposed to be in homicide, and we don’t have a mytho department.”
Edra leaned back and considered Kells for a moment. “You wouldn’t need a mytho department if we were treated like humans.”
“Even the UN can’t work out where to draw that line.”
Edra narrowed his gaze. “I think it’s pretty simple. If a person can talk and argue for their humanity, then they should be treated like one, regardless of what they look like.”
That was the consensus the UN seemed to be reaching, but many countries wanted exemptions for werewolves and vampires and mermaids and anything else that didn’t look human enough. There was always an “out” clause. As a result, mytho rights were a mess and varied from country to country and state to state. In the United States, only the Constitution protected religious practices, and even that had been argued for three years.
“But you’re never going to be human. Christ, there are people who don’t accept humans who look different.” Kells peeled the label off his beer bottle and scrunched it up. “I’ll contact you tomorrow about the walk-through. But can you give me the paperwork for the dragon flyover?”
“First thing.” Edra finished his beer and stood. “I’d rather work with you.”
“We don’t get to pick and choose our cases.”
“Well, it was good luck that it was you and not some asshole who thinks all mythos are animals.” He put the bottle on the table. “Sorry I scared your cat.”
“Sinner will be fine, though she may not forgive you.” Kells got up to see him out.
He wasn’t scared of a little cat. It was barely a snack, though Kells wouldn’t appreciate that. He shouldn’t have come around, but he’d been invited and he was curious. Now the black strap that peeked out from the shoulder of the T-shirt and the scent of jasmine would haunt his sleep.
Kells’s teeth worried at his lower lip—a move that made Edra want to step closer. His toes curled in his shoes, but he didn’t move. He waited for Kells to speak.
“What did you mean by ‘the feeling is mutual’?”
“Exactly that.” Edra swallowed hard, unwilling to say more. He had to work with Kells, and while he’d never let sex get in the way of work, he knew that humans sometimes did. They were odd, and in his gut, he knew that even admitting he was attracted to the wrong human could end in trouble.
“That’s not an answer.” Kells held his gaze.
“That’s all the answer you’re getting.” The gap between them was more than just a few feet—there was still a whole world of lies and distrust.
“Okay. It’s for the best that nothing more is said about it.”
Edra gave a single nod. That was possibly the smartest thing Kells had ever said to him. “But I will miss working with you.”
“You’re stuck with me for the moment.” Kells smiled, his brown eyes bright. “Thanks for stopping by, Tendric.”
“No trouble.” He wanted to ask why Kells had bothered to invite him, but they weren’t talking about that. “You can call me Edra.”
“Edra.” Kells didn’t roll the r, but it was good enough, and he liked the way it sounded on his human lips.
“Jordan.” He put his hand out as though they were just meeting.
Edra shook his hand. Perhaps they were meeting for the first time as equals. But he wasn’t going to get his hopes up.
Jordan’s skin was cool against his palm. The touch lingered for a moment too long, and Edra was happy to let his fingers glide over Jordan’s palm as his hand was released. The musky scent of lust coated his tongue, and he wished they were doing much more than not talking about it. Humans didn’t have sex with mythos—unless it was on a dare.
This wasn’t a dare, and he’d never know what it actually was, because they’d agreed to ignore the desire between them. That had been a dumb thing to agree to. Although there was still plenty they could do, even if they weren’t talking about it. He pressed his luck and took a step closer.
Jordan didn’t step back. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“Maybe we could get together again.”
“For work.”
“Yeah, before you move on to corpses.”
“Homicide.” But there was a curve to Jordan’s lips.
“The dead shouldn’t take priority over the living.”
“The dead still need justice, and families need closure.”
Edra bit back his retort that dead humans got more justice than living mythos. At the moment Jordan was the only cop he had on his side, and pissing him off would be a bad move.
“Can I ask a question?”
Edra doubted it would be anything he wanted to answer if Jordan was asking permission first. “You can.”
“But you may not answer.”
“Something like that.” Or Jordan wouldn’t like the answer.
“I loved reading about mythology when I was at school. How true were the stori
es? What was your world like?”
Edra closed his eyes for a moment. That wasn’t one question. It was a lifetime and nothing more than mytho and memories. How could he explain that what had survived was only a fraction of the civilizations from Tariko that had overlapped and existed symbiotically or antagonistically, depending on the mythos and the leaders at the time, or that humans had come across for centuries to raid their world for treasures and magic fleeces? How could he describe the beauty and the harshness, the bite of loss that still woke him and left him aching?
He closed the remaining distance and lifted his hand, expecting Jordan to flinch away, but he didn’t. Edra ran a finger under the black satin strap and carefully tucked it beneath the T-shirt. “That falls under things we don’t talk about.”
He let his fingers linger on Jordan’s chest for a moment longer and then stepped back. He wanted to know what was under the T-shirt and beneath the jeans. He knew that the scent of jasmine would be gone tomorrow, and this Jordan was not the cop he was used to dealing with. This was the Elf from the den, wearing satin and lace beneath his clothes and dabbling in dangerous lust.
Edra preferred the Elf.
Chapter 10
EDRA LAY facedown on the massage table. His back and arms and neck ached from his recent flight. This morning he’d barely been able to put his shirt on. Typing all the paperwork had been excruciating.
Tatiana smoothed her hand over his back and gave the muscles a prod with her stubby fingers. “Hmm. You’re very tight.”
“I know.” He turned his head to glance at her. “It wasn’t a planned flight.” It had been longer and more frantic than usual. He hadn’t taken a pleasure flight in a while, and his own laziness had come around to bite him on the ass.
Her long black hair swished about her waist as she prepared a heat pack. She’d dyed the ends bright green, a color similar to her eyes. “You don’t do much flying these days.”
He sighed. “No.” He wanted to—the urge was there—but there was never time, and he didn’t want to go from the local park or leap off a roof. He didn’t want people staring. Then there was the whole naked thing. Humans got really weird about that. They liked to pretend that beneath the clothes they wore there was no body, and they were shocked when they saw one, especially if that person was comfortable being naked. Not that nudity had been standard in Tariko, but it certainly hadn’t been shocking or uncommon. Shifters had to shift, and satyrs… well, they had never been much for clothing, even in battle.
