Catching Kit

by Kay Berrisford

  Love? No way could he process that idea now.

  His uncle mustered an easy laugh, which shocked him further. “Oh, I didn’t like the word ‘love’ when I was young either. We men don’t, do we? Particularly we Brits. It’s taken me over seventy years to admit it, but I was in love once. Was in love with the EB from the moment I saw him emerge from that bombed tenement.”

  Denny gaped. Uncle Henry didn’t just admire elves, hadn’t just spent his life fighting for their rights, but he’d been in love with one. A male elf.

  “Now,” continued Henry, as if he hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the twenty-first century on Denny’s kitchen table. “My second question. So far, you have neglected to tell me your elf’s name.”

  “There’s no way you knew him, is there?”

  “That’s the thing. I got to know a good two dozen EBs during the war while deliberately performing appallingly in my job and failing to arrest them. Chances are I did.”

  “He couldn’t be…couldn’t be…the one you…”

  “No.” Henry’s word possessed blunt finality. “The fellow I loved was called Will. And our time together ended for good in 1944.”

  “God, I’m sorry.”

  “No need. I’m the sorry one and will be sorry till I go to my grave. The closer we grew, the more human Will became. He could have remained with me all these years, damn him. But I forged papers for him, gave him an identity—and can you guess the first thing he did?”

  Denny shook his head.

  “He signed up for the armed forces. Will bade me farewell, promising to return, and the elf I made human died on the beaches of Normandy seventy years ago, fighting to free Europe from tyranny.”

  “Will never came back? I mean, in a future existence, like elves can?” Denny cringed. Obviously Will had not, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say, let alone words worthy of Henry’s loss.

  “EBs are resilient to injury, but if their bodies are obliterated, it’s as over for them as it is for us, especially for one as real as Will had become. He was the bravest soul who ever existed.” Although his eyes became rheumy, Henry set his lips ever straighter. “Now tell me your elf’s name, damn you. Will and I had a lot of good friends in London at that time.”

  “He’s called Kit.”

  Henry twitched his moustache. “Shortish chap, blond hair, blue eyes. Likes singing and dancing. Good at it too. Damnably pretty.”

  A tingle passed down Denny’s spine. So here it was. The evidence he’d never believed he’d have. “Yeah. That’s him.”

  “The work that fellow did for morale was worth thousands of pounds of government propaganda.” Henry frowned and dabbed his eyes once more. “Get him down here now.”

  Chapter Eight

  When Denny called, Kit came downstairs. He’d dressed as respectably as he could and had taken a shower while Denny and Henry talked. His hair was damp. When he drew close in the hall, Denny smelled herby shower gel.

  His herby shower gel.

  The scent set Denny hungering for him again. He dared not dwell on how perfectly Kit fit in his home, and how the elf might be true in every sense. He had too much else to think about.

  Fiddling to do up his shirt, Kit raised a brow in query.

  “I think you’ve met my uncle before,” said Denny, forcedly casual.

  Kit froze, his chin raised and his thumb still pressed to the top button. “When?”

  “In the war.” Should he apologize for not believing Kit? Probably, but words seemed as inadequate as he felt. He steered Kit into the kitchen so his uncle could get a good look at him, and vice versa. The old man remained serene, but his eyes glistened.

  His hand on Kit’s shoulder, Denny felt a tremor pass through the elf’s body.

  “Hal?” Kit gasped. “It…it is you. I wanted to believe. Oh God, it’s been too long. Please, don’t get up.”

  Henry clambered to his feet anyway, scraping his chair behind him on the floor. He clasped Kit’s hand between his. “You’ve not aged a day. Not a bloody day.”

  Kit laughed softly, and Denny shook his head at the strangeness. His great-uncle and new lover got along as old friends. “Actually it’s been four years for me,” said Kit. “Roughly speaking. Sometimes I lose count, especially when I’m fading.”

  “You won’t fade this time, lad. Denny won’t let you. I won’t let you. I failed once before, but—”

  “You never failed.” Kit fired his voice with passion. “You couldn’t have helped me back then any more than you did, and what happened to…to Will…wasn’t your fault. He forged his own destiny.”

  Henry afforded a wry chuckle. “A man can still blame himself, can’t he? Guilt is one of the few things that keeps me going, old boy—guilt that lads like you still have to fight for your lives.”

  “You did your best.”

  Henry sat back down. A few moments passed before he let Kit’s hand drop, and then the elf drew up a seat beside him and topped up everyone’s tea. Denny leaned back against the door and folded his arms. For a split second, he grasped at the notion the old man had lost his marbles and that Kit could still be a mindless cipher. It offered no comfort, because the truth was obvious. Being an EBCA agent rendered him little better than a witch-hunter or executioner. He pinched the bridge of his nose and summoned the best of his courage. He vowed to make what amends he could, but he also refused to forget Jen’s birthday. He’d be at Saritha’s at seven o’clock even if he had to pass through hell and back beforehand.

  “If you had told me about this before,” he said to Henry, “I’d never have taken the job.”

  Henry slid his gaze from Kit to Denny. “I’ve changed my mind about regretting that. You were meant to find each other this way, so I can pass my fight on to the next generation. I’d lost hope, but now I understand it all. This was meant to be.”

  “I don’t want to sound rude,” said Denny, “but right now we have to focus on our priorities. If I don’t take Kit to the EB depot soon, they’re going to send a van over. All I can think of is to tell them he escaped. Even if I try convincing them he’s faded, I’ve a hunch they’ll search for him anyway. A couple of my colleagues are already suspicious.”

  Henry nodded. “First things first, then. Go ahead and hide him. If they fire you, so be it. You’ll have to carry on the fight from the outside, but don’t worry about money. I’ve put aside a healthy sum for you in my will, and there’s no reason you can’t have it a little early if needs be. Heaven knows, I never got far trying to bring down the system from within.”

  Denny managed not to cringe. Little about this scenario appealed, and he hated the idea of taking his uncle’s savings. As if sensing his unease, Kit winced in his place.

  Henry continued unabashed. “I still have some friends at MI5, and one or two who owe me a last favor before I pop my clogs.” He tapped his stick on the floor a final time and then rose. “Okay, boys, this is the plan. Take a snap of Kit on your phone, Denny, and send it through to, uh…” He pulled out a neat leather wallet and fumbled for a few moments before retrieving a plain, modern-looking business card for a man named Magnus Smith, listing his fax, e-mail, and mobile telephone number.

  “Pal of mine,” explained Henry, and he twitched his eyelid, almost winking. “That’s not his real name, believe me. Anyway, you must evade the enemy for twelve hours. I’ll meet you back here tonight, hopefully with a solution, but till then you must do what it takes. If at all possible, Denny, keep Kit safe and keep your job.”

  “And I need to spend time with Jen on her birthday,” said Denny. “That’s as important as anything.”

  Henry blinked hard. “Good God, it’s not today, is it? I’d better get a card in the post.”

  “Yeah, that would be nice.” Denny couldn’t quite find it in his heart to scold Henry.

  “I’ll send my apologies. Fortunately one can get away with these things at my age. But you’ve got your work cut out, haven’t you?”

  �
��Seems so.” Denny hurried to his uncle’s side, trying to take his arm. As ever, Henry refused assistance. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

  “If you would,” said Henry. “I’m going straight up to my old HQ. Wish me luck, boys.”

  Denny took the picture of Kit, who posed against the kitchen door with an uncharacteristically dour expression. He sent it from his phone, accompanied by an enigmatic covering note—Time to payback that favor from 1972—dictated by Henry.

  Then the black cab arrived. From behind twitching curtains, Denny watched it pull away, Henry inside. The elf touched the small of his back, rubbing gently. Denny half wished he could melt against him, but tensed instead.

  “You okay?” asked Kit. “Aren’t you pleased? Now you know I’ve hardly lied to you about a thing.”

  Denny straightened the curtain, his anxiety boiling toward irritation. “Look, it’s not your fault, but this is too screwed up. You and Henry can’t just take over my world. I’ve got to think about Jen. If we get involved, you’re going to touch her life too. I’ve got to be sure this is right, and…and…this is all happening too quickly. God, Henry wants me to become some kind of freedom fighter. I’m just not ready.”

  “I understand.”

  Denny scrutinized Kit’s calmness. He expected to discern that dreamy, distant expression and be struck by guilt. Instead, Kit buffeted him with a growing air of nonchalance. Denny swallowed hard.

  “You do?”

  “I do. And I’m sorry.” Casually—a bit too casually—Kit tugged the front of Denny’s pullover, straightening out a crease. Even at such slight contact, Denny’s flesh sizzled, and he felt sickened once more at the prospect of losing Kit. Heavens, the things Kit must have been through. The elf deserved a little sympathy and patience, yet Denny’s head ached with confusion. He brushed Kit away.

  “We need to work out where you’re going to hide,” he said, forcing his mind onto business. “You’d better borrow some of my clothes, though they’re not going to fit you very well.” Indeed, Denny’s oversize clothes would render Kit as conspicuous to other EB control agents as the elf’s own scruffy gear would.

  Denny went out into the hall, grateful to focus on something practical. “We can’t be seen together, but I keep some ready cash stashed in the back of that, which you can take.” He pointed to a dog-eared notebook by the phone and laughed ruefully, recalling what Henry said about EBs’ disregard of property. Maybe he was a trusting fool, letting an elf make off with his emergency funds.

  Kit lolled against the stairs. “That’s sorted, then. I’ll go shopping, then make myself scarce.”

  “You’ll be okay?”

  Kit arched a brow wryly, and Denny felt mildly silly about the strength of his concern. “I’ve survived scarier things than a few EB catchers on my trail over the years,” said the elf.

  “You mean during the Blitz?”

  “To be honest, it wasn’t the worst of times, but yeah, that was frightening.”

  Denny recalled what Henry told him about Kit doing his bit for morale. A question begged that he’d never imagined putting to somebody who looked around the same age as he. “So what did you do in the war, Kit?”

  “Cabaret mainly. Got me a peroxide wig and impersonated Alice Faye.”

  “Who the hell was Alice Faye?”

  “Oh, a cute blonde movie star. Nobody much remembers her anymore. At least they don’t sell her movies on those shiny discs, the DVD things. She had a deep, mournful voice, gorgeous lips.” Swinging off the bottom banister, Kit offered an exaggerated pout. “I don’t think I was much good, but it kept the punters entertained.”

  Denny conjured an image of Kit with a forties coiffure and painted red mouth. The image was kind of hot. “I guess you’re pretty enough for it.”

  Kit wrinkled his nose. “That was the problem. My voice was okay, but I was dull. I looked like a fucking girl, so where’s the fun? I got laid a lot, don’t get me wrong, but even before any of the chaps cottoned on to the elf thing, I could never quite tell if it was my body they wanted once they’d delved beneath the skirts.”

  “You don’t like cross-dressing?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve done it enough. I was a boy player for a bit, back in Elizabethan times. I acted all the great roles—Juliet, Beatrice, Kate, Ophelia.” Kit closed the gap between them with two swift strides. His breath pounded Denny’s throat, and he smirked. “It’s a fun part of performance, but I’d rather see a gorgeous great bloke like you in a corset and crinolines.”

  Denny ran his fingers across his brow, finding it hot as if fevered. Kit’s coolness proved disarming, and even Denny’s concerns about his future and Jen failed to quell the drug of the elf’s closeness. He touched Kit’s backside, savoring the firm swell of his buttocks. Denny’s cock grew hard again. Kit smiled knowingly.

  “There’s not enough time for this,” muttered Denny.

  “Look, mate, I need all the strength I can get to go on the run.” As Denny opened his mouth to protest, Kit pressed fingers to his lips. “Just half an hour more sex will do it. I’ll be able to keep going for days then.”

  Maybe. This still felt like a bad idea.

  “Just a quickie. One for the road.” Kit slid his arms about Denny’s waist and drew him to the stairs. His expression became serious, and Denny discerned a hint of the shadowed depths that had touched him before. “I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

  “Okay,” whispered Denny.

  What a bloody mess.

  * * * * *

  Denny lay back on his pillow. The elf crawled up the bed on all fours, arching over him like a cat. The determination smoldering in Kit’s eyes unsettled Denny even further. Still, he yielded quickly enough when Kit ravished his lips.

  Kit threw kinetic energy into the kiss, the friction of flesh against flesh overpowering as a pint of vodka. The elf swept his tongue deeply, at the same time working Denny’s sweater upward. Denny raised his arms, straining toward Kit as they wrangled to remove the offending clothing, only breaking the contact between their mouths at the moment they stripped the top off over his head.

  Pushing him back down, Kit nibbled along the line of his jaw, his throat, then over his chest. Stalling to catch his breath, Denny listened to the clock tick onward, a sound soon drowned by Kit’s panting. The elf knew exactly what he wanted. He flicked Denny’s nipple ring with his tongue, setting him writhing, then pulled back to slam him with a look that could melt the polar ice caps.

  The air jammed in Denny’s lungs. Kit had never appeared more beautiful, his face framed by hair drying into curling golden wisps. His irises were steely blue flames. Yet for a moment he seemed the soulless cipher Denny had once suspected him to be. His uncle’s proof ought to have made things better. Instead, that connection had somehow become lost. Kit appeared to be doing this for pure need, not desire.

  “Kit, I—”

  “Shhh. Just enjoy.” Kit unbuttoned Denny’s flies, freeing his cock. “This is helping me, remember?”

  It was hard to argue when Kit grinned predatorily at his prick. Denny lifted his hips, letting Kit tug the trousers down, and then the elf worked his mouth over Denny’s stomach, each infliction of wet heat making him jolt as if he’d been struck. Kit maneuvered around his rigid shaft, lapping his balls, nipping lightly at the flesh of his parted thighs.

  “God, stop teasing.” His cock painfully heavy without contact, Denny moaned.

  “Be patient. Can I cuff you?”

  “Yeah…yeah. Just get on with it.”

  Kit curved his lips, a perfect crescent. “Wait a minute, then. Shut your eyes.”

  Denny obeyed. Kit fastened cool metal about one of Denny’s wrists, looped the chain around a bar of the iron bedstead, and then cuffed the other. He turned the key in the locks. Denny’s mental alarm bells rang. He wished he’d instructed Kit to use some furry restraints from the drawer, not those awful things he’d left lying carelessly nearby. Before he could ponder the implications, K
it tortured his groin with warm breath. Denny’s need for relief burned like a brand at the root of his shaft.

  “Please.” He gasped. “Damn.”

  Kit’s tongue proved electric. With expert precision, he pried back Denny’s hood, scrubbing over his glans with a roughness bordering on aggression. Denny arched his back, straining the cuffs against the headboard. The elf moved his lips back and forward over Denny’s shaft, plunging deeper every time.

  Kit’s golden stubble scratched Denny’s balls, the soft undulation of the back of the elf’s mouth against his cockhead enough to set his sinews curling, his climax burgeoning. Kit worked against the underbelly of his cock and then eased back to lavish attention around and above the ridge, licking and teasing until the deluge ignited sensual overload. Denny had never come so rapidly or so hard. His liquid burst forth, a geyser in Kit’s mouth.

  “Yes…oh yes…yes.” His cock juddered several times as orgasm swept through him. Kit swallowed; Denny felt the shift of his throat, the strength of suction about his oversensitive member. Then Kit licked his still-hard shaft clean.

  “Damn,” mumbled Denny. He viewed Kit through the blur of his lashes. He felt weak.

  “I must leave you now,” said Kit.

  Denny cracked his eyes wide. Already off the bed, the elf backed away. He wiped his lips, then brushed down his shirt, tugging it straight.

  Denny’s mental alarm bells grew deafening. Kit placed the key for the handcuffs on his chest of drawers, yards from the bed. “You’re going to take the cuffs off, right?”

  “Sorry.”

  “What the hell? Seriously, this is no time for games.”

  “I know.” Kit grabbed a comb from the bedside table and went to the mirror to sweep his fringe into place. “When they see I tricked you, maybe you won’t lose your job, and it’ll be better for your daughter, right?”

  “But…but…”

  “You’re not going to say ‘what about us,’ are you?” Kit turned and laughed heartily. “Sorry, mate. You’ve given me the strength to go on, and that’s all I ever wanted. I…I didn’t mean it. All the rest of the shit. I’ll say anything for a shag, and don’t you believe everything poor old Hal says either. He always was a pushover. Must run in the family.”