by J L Aarne
“It goes out,” Crewes said immediately.
“Right, because this is not the movies,” Ezekiel said. “Stand over a large pool of gas and light it and what would happen?”
Crewes smiled. “Well, you’ll likely burn your face off.”
Ezekiel smiled back at her and walked away from the wall again. “He threw the kidney at the wall,” he told Parker.
She stared at him, looked behind him at the wall, then back at him. “Seriously?”
Ezekiel very carefully did not let his amusement show on his face. “Yep. There’s a spot a little below the ceiling. Looks like he had himself a fit and chunked the thing.”
“What, like picked up the nearest thing to hand and threw it?” she said. She laughed incredulously and ran a hand through her hair. “Jesus Christ. What the hell kind of whack-job is this?”
“Free-range psychopath,” Ezekiel said before he thought about it.
They both stared at him. In his head, the documentary narrator said, Our psychopaths are 100% organic, they contain no hormones, antibiotics or GMOs. Apparently he also did TV commercial voice-over.
Ezekiel realized he was smiling and made himself stop. “Why don’t you walk me through it from the beginning?” he asked Parker.
“Well, you’ve seen the files? I sent them over—”
“Yes. But let’s pretend for now that I haven’t seen them and take it from the top,” Ezekiel said.
She sighed and looked stumped for a minute. Then she nodded and started talking as she walked around the room. Ezekiel and Crewes walked with her, listening.
Chapter 13
It was early evening when Ezekiel got home. Jacob was on the phone in the living room and the Mark Lanegan Band was on the stereo. He hadn’t cooked, but he had ordered Chinese takeout from a place they liked and the food was still warm, so Ezekiel ate while he waited for Jacob to finish his phone call. He ate fast when he didn’t have work in front of him to distract him, so he finished and Jacob was still on the phone.
It sounded work related and he wondered about that. Jacob was doing better these days, but he still wasn’t well enough to go back in the field. He might never be.
He went upstairs and took a shower. When he returned downstairs, Jacob was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette. He smiled when he saw Ezekiel and offered him the cigarette without being asked.
“Who was on the phone?” Ezekiel took a drag off the cigarette and gave it back to him.
“Bruce Stirling,” Jacob said. He tapped ash into a clay ashtray by his arm. “They’ve got a girl in Salt Lake City. She’s been missing a year. She escaped, ran out into traffic and nearly got hit by a truck. They want me to talk to her and see if I can make any sense out of what she’s saying.”
Jacob had worked with Agent Stirling in Virginia. It was Stirling who had stopped him from killing their suspect the last case Jacob had worked in the field. Jacob owed him a lot for that.
Ezekiel sat down at the table beside him. “Why? Is she speaking in tongues?”
Jacob shrugged. “No. It’s English far as I know, she’s just not making any sense.”
“You think you can help her?” Ezekiel asked.
“Maybe,” Jacob said. He sighed and rubbed over his eyebrow. It was a gesture that usually meant the stress was getting to him. “Probably,” he said. “There are more girls, they understand that much from her babbling, so I think I’ve got to try.”
“Jake if you’re not okay, you don’t have to do anything,” Ezekiel said.
Jacob tamped out his cigarette and gave Ezekiel a rueful look. “You know that’s not true,” he said.
Jacob had unique insight into what it was like and what it meant to be abducted, which was both a benefit in his line of work and a curse in his personal life. He empathized with the victims, sometimes too much.
Ezekiel understood it better than anyone and he still didn’t totally get it. He had lost Jacob once and it had thereafter shaped his entire life. It was still behind a lot of what he did, behind what drove him and made him drive himself so hard. It was why he sometimes pursued the monsters to their lairs and slew them. He knew what it was to be the family of the lost children, but not what it was like to be the lost child the way Jacob did.
“You’re going,” Ezekiel said. It was not a question. “When?”
“As soon as possible,” Jacob said. “Tomorrow.”
Ezekiel leaned over and cupped Jacob’s cheek in one hand, they touched noses and Jacob tilted his head to kiss him. It started soft as goodbye kisses are, but it deepened when Jacob pushed toward him and slipped his tongue past Ezekiel’s teeth. Ezekiel slid his fingers through Jacob’s hair and held him as he kissed him back.
Jacob turned his head to break the kiss and laughed softly when Ezekiel merely moved his kisses to the curve of his jaw and the pale slope of his neck. “I seem to recall promising you a reward for coming home,” he said, tilting his head back as Ezekiel licked over his pulse. “And here you are.”
“Mhmm, full to bursting with bad juju,” Ezekiel murmured, smiling against his skin.
Jacob laughed, put his arms around Ezekiel’s neck and moved from his chair into his brother’s lap. “Seems only right then that you spill it in honor of my sendoff,” he said. He nipped Ezekiel’s mouth, ran a hand down his chest and felt between them for his belt buckle. Jacob got it open and smiled to feel his cock grow hard under his brushing fingers. “I have a mind to get down on my knees for you, but kitchen tile is so uncomfortable to kneel on for any length of time,” he said. He hooked his fingers in the front of Ezekiel’s shirt collar and pulled as he got up from his lap. Ezekiel followed him up out of the chair, caught him around the waist and half carried him out of the kitchen into the living room.
“I doubt it’ll take that long,” Ezekiel said.
Jacob grinned at him as he stepped out of his arms and gave Ezekiel a gentle shove to make him sit on the sofa. “Well, that’s flattering, but not very inspiring,” he said. He knelt on the floor between Ezekiel’s legs and pulled his pants down his thighs.
Ezekiel watched him, his gaze heated and intense. Jacob rested his cheek on one of his thighs and purred and Ezekiel groaned in frustration. “I’ll make it up to you.”
Jacob turned his head and kissed Ezekiel’s thigh, caught the soft flesh in his teeth and lightly sucked. It made Ezekiel gasp and he reached for him. Then he closed his hand into a fist without touching him and lowered it to the couch.
“What do you want?” Ezekiel asked. He sucked a hissing breath through his teeth. “God, you fucking tease.”
Jacob made a tsk sound with his tongue, wrapped his long fingers around Ezekiel’s cock and squeezed. “I want you wanting me like this,” he said. He licked the head of Ezekiel’s cock, a single swipe of his rough cat tongue that had Ezekiel clenching his hands into fists at his sides. “That’s what I always want.”
“You got it,” Ezekiel said. He watched Jacob brush his full, pretty mouth over his cock and pushed his hips up in an involuntary thrust, so turned on he couldn’t stand it. “Jake, I want you. I always want you. I want you so much right now that if you don’t stop screwing around, I’m going to come anyway and probably get it in your hair.”
Jacob coughed a soft laugh. “Just don’t get it in my eye,” he said, but he leaned in, lowered his head and took him in his mouth.
Ezekiel let his breath out on a long sigh and put a hand out to run his fingers through Jacob’s hair and along his cheek to his jaw. Jacob rested his hands on his thighs and sucked, Ezekiel’s cock sliding over his tongue to the back of his throat as he softly began to purr. Ezekiel watched Jacob, watched his eyes close, lashes long and soot black as butterfly wings. He watched his cock sliding in and out of his mouth, his pale throat working as he swallowed around it. Ezekiel shivered; body alive and humming with pleasure as the soft vibration of Jacob’s purr tingled through him. He cursed, doing everything he could not to thrust, and looked down to catch Jacob’s
eyes on him as he drew his mouth up, tongue dragging along his length as Jacob came to the end and licked. Ezekiel moaned and Jacob smiled and flicked his tongue lewdly.
“Jake,” Ezekiel gasped.
It was a warning. Jacob made a wordless sound of acknowledgement and ducked his head again. He pushed his hands up Ezekiel’s belly, fingers gently kneading into his tattooed skin, and swallowed when he came. He tensed under Jacob’s hands and would have thrust then, but he held him back, purring until his over-stimulated body couldn’t take it anymore and he told him to stop.
Jacob drew his mouth off of him slowly with a lewd pop that sent a last, feeble shock of arousal through Ezekiel. He moaned and let his head fall back against the sofa cushion, watching Jacob from beneath lowered lashes.
Jacob sat back on his heels. There was a wet drop of come on his bottom lip and he lifted a finger to smear it around his mouth, making his lips shiny. He smiled and sucked the tip of his finger clean.
“Come here,” Ezekiel said, hand on the back of his neck to urge him up.
Jacob rose up on his knees and tilted his head and Ezekiel kissed him with a possessive growl. The bitter taste of his come was in Jacob’s mouth and on their tongues and he swallowed it down.
Jacob pulled away and stood up, holding his hand down for Ezekiel to take. “Pull your pants up and come with me,” he said.
Ezekiel stood, refastened his pants and took Jacob’s hand. “Where are we going?”
“To bed,” Jacob said simply. He led him out of the living room to the stairs. “Not to sleep, of course. I just want to get you naked in bed so I can have my wicked way with you.”
Ezekiel smiled to himself and went with him up the stairs. “I thought we just did that.”
“Oh, no, that was your wicked way. I’m not done with you.”
“That was your idea.”
Jacob glanced at him over his shoulder. “Of which you were the sole beneficiary.”
“I’m not complaining,” Ezekiel said.
At the top of the stairs, Jacob released his hand and pulled his T-shirt off over his head as he walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Certainly not,” he said. “But once you’ve recovered, you’re going to fuck me. I’m going to be gone for a while. Who knows how long I might be away, all alone and celibate. Though I guess we could try phone sex or that Internet thing, but it’s so silly and it’s not the same.”
Ezekiel laughed and caught up with him inside the bedroom door. He pulled him into his arms and backed him against the wall to kiss him. “You won’t be gone that long. I think ‘celibate’ is overstating things a bit.”
Jacob walked his fingers up Ezekiel’s chest. “I suppose you’re right. In any case, we’ve both got work to do so we’ll hardly have time to miss each other.”
Ezekiel didn’t bother pointing out to him how untrue that was. He worked a lot, was a workaholic by anyone’s standards, so there were times when they didn’t see each other much for days. When Jacob had been a field agent, it had been even harder to make their schedules mesh. Being busy did not make being apart easier.
“You remember the first time?” Jacob asked.
Ezekiel rested his elbow on the wall and twined some of Jacob’s hair through his fingers. “You mean in the shed when we were kids?”
Jacob had been leaning against the woodpile eating an apple with a jackknife. They had been not quite thirteen and already looking at each other in a way they weren’t supposed to. It was a summer night in Yuma, Arizona, 1861. Ezekiel kissed him and Jacob’s mouth had tasted like ripe apples. He wouldn’t get to do it again for twelve more years. Of course he remembered it.
“No,” Jacob said. “I mean the first time. I washed your hair in the stream with ash soap. I barely spoke any English.”
“I remember,” Ezekiel said.
What he remembered most about that place was Jacob beaten half to death in his arms. It had been the encampment of a nomadic Indian people somewhere close to the Rio Grande. He remembered Jacob whispering into his feline ear, Kill them all. And he had.
“The bed was nothing but a pallet of furs,” Jacob said. He stepped away from the wall and walked Ezekiel backward to the bed. “You were the first I ever wanted. I think about it sometimes.”
“I wish you didn’t,” Ezekiel said. Those had been bad times for them both. Not just days of separation, but years that had irrevocably changed and molded them both.
“It’s okay,” Jacob said, lifting up to kiss him.
The back of Ezekiel’s knees hit the side of the mattress and he sat down, an arm around Jacob’s waist to catch him as he fell with him and knocked Ezekiel onto his back. They kissed and scooted into the middle of the bed. Ezekiel rolled Jacob beneath him and traced his scars with his mouth, licked along the sensitive places that made him shiver and drove him mad.
Sex was slow and they both lay spent and slick with sweat on top of the covers after. Jacob dozed and Ezekiel sat up, thinking to get up and wash then find some work to do to keep himself busy, but Jacob’s hand darted out and caught his arm.
“Stay with me,” he said.
Ezekiel settled back on the bed. “What if I bring the computer in here and work?”
Jacob grumbled in wordless annoyance, turned his head and looked at him. “Fine,” he said eventually. “But don’t just say that then go sit at the table because I’m asleep so I won’t notice. I will notice.”
“Yes, dear,” Ezekiel said.
He cleaned up and brought his laptop back to the bed with him. Jacob was sleeping, but he drew close to Ezekiel and used his leg for a pillow when he settled down. It looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem to mind it.
Ezekiel reviewed reports and notes, read over the files on The Lamplighter again, read over the Robert Weaver file and finally sat there staring at the monitor. It was bugging him and he didn’t know why. Or rather, he knew why, but he still hadn’t decided what he was going to do about it. Rainer was The Lamplighter, he knew it, but he didn’t have evidence.
What he had was suspicion and instinct and a few very minor things connecting him to it that even the worst attorney in the world on their worst day would get dismissed as circumstantial. Still, he should present what he had to the team and share his thoughts with them so that it could be looked into and applied to the profile and the LAPD would have something at last. Something to follow up on, a jumping off point, a person of interest, anything.
That was what he should do. What he would have done if he were just doing his job.
But he wasn’t doing that and he wasn’t going to do that.
Because this was different. He wanted this one for himself.
He’d had the impression shortly after meeting him that this was all a game to Rainer and there was something about that which he found exciting. It was wrong to look at it that way. Rainer was a killer, this wasn’t a game, it needed to end and it was his job—his duty—to stop it.
Jacob was drooling a little in his sleep and Ezekiel smiled. Then he pulled the sheet up and got Jacob to lift his head and lay back down on it. Jacob was not a light sleeper. He could sleep through a blitz.
Ezekiel picked up his phone and scrolled through his numbers until he found Solomon Bovard’s number. Sol was a hacker, among his other highly illegal and extremely lucrative business dealings, and Ezekiel had a few things he wanted very badly to know about Rainer Bryssengur. If he looked into it himself, he would have to explain the reason for his interest and obtain a warrant. Sol scoffed in the face of warrants.
The phone rang twice and Sol answered it. “Yeah?”
“This is Ezekiel Herod,” Ezekiel said.
“Yeah, dude, I know. It says your name right here on my phone,” Sol said. He sounded distracted and Ezekiel could hear him typing. “What’s up?”
“You know The Lamplighter killer on the news?”
Sol breathed out a laugh. “Yeah. That freak disemboweling and burning people? It’s got all the reporters filling their pa
nts with joy-shit. Why? You on that one?”
“Yeah and I’ve got a guy I want you to look into for me.”
Jacob whimpered in his sleep and clenched his fingers against Ezekiel’s thigh. He put his hand down to pet his hair and he subsided.
“Don’t you have access to like, VICAP and shit?” Sol asked. “Seems like that would be a lot more efficient. Not to mention faster.”
“I can’t do that with this,” Ezekiel said. “I’m not an investigator and he’s not really a suspect.”
“Ah, so it’s like that,” Sol said. “This guy got under your skin?”
“He’s… different,” Ezekiel said. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, even to himself. “And he might get away with it anyway because he’s good.”
“Well, can’t have that,” Sol said dryly. “Psychos running amok, stabbing people, shooting them, setting them on fire, hosting corpse-fire weenie roasts… So, who’s the guy?”
“Rainer Bryssengur,” Ezekiel said then spelled Rainer’s last name for Sol. “I’ll bring what I’ve got on him over for you tomorrow. Among other things, he saw a shrink when he was a kid and I’d like to know why.”
“All right,” Sol said. “I’ll be here.”
“He’s the youngest child of Mikael and Deirdre Bryssengur,” Ezekiel added helpfully.
“You mean the poet?”
“Yeah. And he lived in Europe for a few years. France and Germany. I don’t know much about that, but I’d like to.”
“Huh. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
They ended the call and Ezekiel set the phone aside. He had brought a cup of coffee to bed with him when he’d retrieved the laptop and he picked it up to drink. Jacob jerked against him and lukewarm coffee sloshed over his hand onto the white sheets.
“Damn it,” Ezekiel muttered, setting the cup aside.
Jacob moaned, his eyes darting beneath his eyelids, dreaming some horrible dream that made him shiver and cling to the coffee stained covers. Ezekiel petted him and patted his back, trying to soothe him, but it didn’t work. Jacob flinched away from him.
