He looked at Ben. “I - I need to go home.”
Christopher walked over and put his arm around Marcus’s shoulders. “I’m afraid you can’t right now. Whoever was after Antoine may still be after you. You’re safest with us.”
“No!” Marcus wrenched out of Christopher’s hold. “I have to go home. My dad is going to wonder what happened and...Ant, I can’t just leave him!” Marcus climbed back in the car and dragged Antoine’s body to him.
Ben heard tires squeal one floor down. Someone was coming. He and Christopher exchanged a look.
Christopher stared hard at the boy. “I’m sorry, Marcus. Give Ben your car keys.”
Marcus fished the keys from his pocket and handed them to Ben, who put them under the driver’s side seat.
“That’s good,” Christopher soothed.
Headlights flashed on the wall near the entrance to the top floor. Ben shot his hand out and held the car in place, keeping it from coming any closer. Marcus and Antoine deserved a last goodbye.
“We’ve got to go now. I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Christopher said, focusing his gaze.
Marcus leaned forward, tears rolling down his cheeks, and tenderly kissed Antoine on the lips. “Goodbye, Ant. I love you. I wish I didn’t have to leave.” He placed another soft kiss on Antoine’s forehead and then backed out of the car and closed the door.
Christopher led him to their car, opening the back door for him. He set the clean clothes and the baby wipes down on the seat next to Marcus and then got in the front seat.
Left hand still extended, Ben slid behind the steering wheel and turned on the ignition with his right. He slowly eased his left hand down and slammed his door closed.
Ben followed the arrows on the way out of the parking garage and headed toward the rendezvous point. He could feel the control coming off of Christopher as he instructed Marcus to clean the blood off of his face and hands and change his clothes. He did exactly as he was told. Ben wished there had been another way, that what had happened to Antoine and Marcus hadn’t happened at all.
It was their fault; he knew it with every fiber of his body. They’d led whoever was killing the boys right to them. Someone had to be glimpsing their every move.
When Marcus was cleaned up, Christopher very gently prodded him to tell them about the attack.
Marcus looked blankly out the window, rolling the hem of Ben’s borrowed red t-shirt between his fingers.
“We’d gone to the aquarium and then to get some tacos. It was something we did every week, a regular date. We’d go to the aquarium and then grab some food to eat in the car and chill. The top floor of the parking garage is usually pretty deserted. We can’t, couldn’t, really hang out at my house or his, so we’d do something that two guy friends would maybe do out in public, y’know, and then we’d end the evening in the parking garage, before we had to go back out into the world and pretend like we were a couple of straight guys. It was stupid, y’know, that we had to be like that, but we never even talked about it. It was just what we did.
“But tonight, I’d forgotten to pick up hot sauce for the tacos and didn’t realize it until we got to the stairs. Antoine really likes hot sauce and turns into a total bitch if he doesn’t, didn’t have any and so I told him to go wait by the car and I’d run back and get it. At first he wanted to go with me, but I said it would just take a second, y’know, and that I was faster than he was, so I just went. And when I got back, it wasn’t more than ten minutes later, he was lying on the ground next to the car with, with two bullets in his body just fucking bleeding all over the place. No one around. He was just dead. I didn’t know what to think. I should’ve been there. I know there was something I coulda done, y’know, but instead I left him alone to get stupid hot sauce because I didn’t want to hear him whine about not having any.”
Ben looked in the rearview mirror. Marcus was sitting stock still, tears spilling out of his eyes, like he was in a trance. “It’s good you weren’t there man, Antoine probably thanked God that you weren’t there. In every other case we’ve seen today, both the Retroact and their trigger were killed.”
Marcus blinked. “Can you, can you do that thing like he did? Could you see his spirit?”
“He wasn’t there,” Christopher said. “Whoever is killing all these people takes their spirits as well.”
Marcus blinked again. “Oh. Why?”
“Did Antoine tell you about Mildred?” Ben asked.
“Yeah. She’s like you guys but bad.”
Ben nodded his head. “Well, we’ve been tracking down Retroacts that the Society hadn’t paid much attention to in order to have more power to defeat her, but it seems like she wants to use their spirits against us now or at least keep us from having more people on our side.”
Marcus finally moved; he shook his head. “She has to be taking them to use against you. That’s why she’s trying to get the triggers. You guys are stronger when we’re with you. Probably true as spirits too, don’t you think?”
Ben instantly thought of Zellie and Avery. Her powers had only continued to grow and improve when she was near him. Christopher had thought the same thing when he’d gone all evil and he’d briefly tried to keep them apart from one another. Had Connor done that for him?
Goosebumps rose on his arms.
Of course he had.
Shit.
“Christopher, call Frank and tell him that the rendezvous point has changed.” Ben switched lanes, he needed to exit and catch a different freeway.
“Okaaay? Where is he supposed to meet us now?”
“Westwood. He’ll know why.”
Christopher gave Ben a suspicious look. “Um, do I get to know why?”
Ben took a deep breath. He was so not ready for this. “That’s where Connor lives.”
Christopher shook his head and dialed Frank. “We’re going to need a bigger car.”
They sat parked on the street outside of Connor’s apartment building waiting for Frank to meet them. Marcus had fallen asleep in the backseat with his head resting against the window.
“I wonder if we should dye his hair or let him call his dad or something,” Christopher said. “If he’s not home by morning the authorities will probably issue an Amber Alert. He’s only sixteen.”
Ben looked up through the window toward the building, an old stucco hotel that had been converted into apartments, and counted four windows over from the end on the third floor. The light was on in Connor’s apartment. His heart thrummed in his chest at the idea of seeing him again.
It had been three years since he’d sabotaged their relationship by acting like a big slut and making sure Connor knew about it. Seeing the look on Connor’s face, the hatred and betrayal, had been one of the worst moments of Ben’s life and he’d had a lot of bad days. But he’d stuck to his plan and stayed away. Even when his mom died and he really, desperately wanted to tell Connor everything, to let him comfort him or yell at him or anything, just to have some sort of contact, he didn’t. He’d grieved quietly with Frank until he couldn’t stand it and then went out and found himself a couple of girlfriends that were willing to include him in their weekend fun.
Sure, he’d thought about visiting Connor when he’d arrived in L.A., especially after what he witnessed Zellie and Avery go through. There was a way for him and Connor to be together… but Ben didn’t know how to ask for forgiveness. Also, he was kind of a Retro reject and what worked for Zellie might not work for him. He didn’t think he could chance it, but now he was being forced to.
Ben had hated himself almost every day since he’d left Connor and the barrier he’d put up around his heart, around his feelings, was about to be torn down.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying? Do you--”
“Frank will tell us what we should do. He’s a great Lookout, let him do his job.” Ben wished Christopher would just chill for a damn minute. He was putting him even more on edge.
Christopher gasped, working hims
elf into a tizzy. “Well, excuse me. I’ve never been lucky enough to have a Lookout or a real trigger even, so I guess I’m just used to having to figure things out for my own loveless self, you silly himbo.”
Ben turned to him. Christopher had supposedly spent all that time studying him and he didn’t know a damn thing. Going to see Connor was a monumental deal for Ben. He was certain to face rejection from the one person in the world who was biologically programmed to not reject him. At the moment, Ben didn’t give a shit if Marcus dyed his hair fuchsia.
“Fuck you. You know what? All any of us has tried to do is include you, to make our Lookouts your own and that’s after you’d planned to kill Zellie and me for years!” Ben curled his fingers around the steering wheel and lowered his voice. “I can’t do anything about your trigger being dead, but you’re not the only Retro who’s had to go on living without one. Oh, in fact, we’ve all had to except for Zellie. You should be glad Liam died and went into the light instead of having to be caught up in all of this shit. You think this is how I wanted things with Connor to be? You think he’s going to jump for joy when he sees me?”
Christopher huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, turning away from Ben.
After several tense minutes Christopher sighed, relaxed his posture and looked up toward the apartment. “I can make him jump for joy, if you want me to,” he said matter-of-factly.
A grin wriggled at the corners of Ben’s mouth. “No, that’s okay.”
“Suit yourself.” Christopher settled back into his seat. “You want me to make Frank talk, tell you where your dad lives?”
Ben shook his head, resigned. “That was my plan, but now all of my daddy issues seem kinda lame, don’t they?”
Christopher chucked him on the shoulder. “Pity, party of two,” he trilled, like he was the maître d’ at the Polo Lounge.
“That might be the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“I think the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say was ‘jump for joy.’”
Frank knocked on Christopher’s window, sending them both jumping and not for joy.
He chuckled and then motioned for them to meet him outside. They got out of the car.
“Okay,” Frank said, “Antoine’s all taken care of. I took him to Hazel’s L.A. guy.” He shook his head. “Poor kid, he was shot twice, once in the chest and once in the stomach. Probably never saw it coming. I’ve talked to Hazel and told her that you were coming to collect Connor. She said that Gaby had drawn a similar conclusion. She and Helene and Ashley are headed back to Ohio to check in on her trigger, Jorge. Hazel’s going to catch a flight out of St. Louis in the morning and meet us up in Rosedell tomorrow evening. She’ll call Melody to let her know we’re coming.”
Christopher rocked back on his heels and clapped his hands. “Looks like we’re getting the band back together.” Ben slapped him upside the head.
Frank rolled his eyes. “Anyhoo, I’ll take Marcus over to the Rite-Aid I saw a few blocks back and get him a disposable cell phone. He can call his parents and tell them he’s gone camping for the holiday. ”
“His dad,” Ben said pointedly. “He lives with his dad.” Christopher slapped Ben upside the head.
“That’s good,” Frank said, not taking the hint or not responding to it if he did. “Moms do tend to be more suspicious about these things. His dad might not have even noticed he wasn’t home yet. Okey doke.” He held his hand out for the car keys. “I’ll be back in less than fifteen. Be ready to skedaddle outta here.”
Ben dropped the keys into Frank’s hand and they watched as he and Marcus drove off down the street.
“So,” Ben said.
“So,” Christopher said.
They looked up at Connor’s apartment. The light was still on.
Christopher hooked arms with Ben and pulled him across the street and up the sidewalk. “Let’s go get your boy.”
The front door of the apartment building was locked and when he peered inside the lobby Ben saw a doorman sitting next to the reception desk. Christopher pointed to an intercom and Ben nodded his head.
As Christopher pushed the button he stared in the doorman’s direction.
“M’hello,” the man said.
“Hi. Let us in, we’re here to see a friend.”
“Apartment number?”
“That doesn’t matter. Open the door.”
“Y’okay.” The doorman pushed a green button next to the desk and didn’t even bother looking up when Christopher and Ben came through the door. They headed up the stairwell to the third floor.
Keeping their heads down (with no Frank to take care of any surveillance cameras), they hurried down the hall to apartment 312.
“So, you haven’t been here before? This whole time we’ve been in L.A.?” Christopher asked.
Ben stopped in front of Connor’s door. “I may have done a drive-by or twenty.”
“Stalker.”
“Damn straight.” Ben took a deep breath to calm his nerves, flipped his hair out of his eyes and knocked twice.
Connor opened the door part way and looked directly at Ben, his eyes widening for an instant. There were beads of sweat running down his temple and his black hair clung damply to his forehead. Ben’s stomach lurched. He’d been stupid to think that Connor would be alone and from the looks of it, he’d recently been getting hot and heavy with someone.
Ben let his gaze trail down what he could see of Connor’s body. His bare chest was smooth and tanned, his abs taut. Low-slung cargo shorts covered his bottom half. A rush of saliva filled Ben’s mouth.
Connor cleared his throat, snapping Ben to attention, and then gave him an overly enthusiastic smile. “Hi, sweetheart! I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight. I thought I wouldn’t see you until the party in Venice tomorrow?”
Fuck. In an instant Ben knew that something was terribly wrong. Connor was damp with the sweat of terror.
“Hey, baby,” Ben said. He reached down and grabbed Christopher’s hand and squeezed it; Christopher squeezed his back. “Can I come in?”
Connor looked away for a split second. “You know, I was just about to go to sleep...”
Ben nodded his head to the left. “Right.”
At that word, Connor stepped to his right as Christopher barged through the door, knocking whoever was behind it back, causing them to stumble. A straight razor whizzed through the air. Ben pulled Connor from the apartment as the razor flew past them and lodged in the wall next to where Connor had been standing.
“Stay out here. Do not move,” Ben said before going back in and slamming the door behind him.
Christopher held Connor’s befuddled attacker against an armoire with both of his hands, staring intently into the attacker’s eyes and muttering. The guy was in his early twenties, with long, bleached blonde hair. He was wearing a faded brown sweatshirt and board shorts. Probably a friend of Connor’s who’d been compelled to kill him by one of Mildred’s people.
Ben rewound the razor out of the wall. He reached out into the air and picked the weapon up between his thumb and index finger. “Should we keep this?”
Christopher glared at Ben for interrupting him. “Well, we shouldn’t give it back to this guy. His brain is fried. I can’t get whatever suggestion was planted in his mind to completely go away. He’s still slightly homicidal.”
Connor stuck his head into the apartment. “Then how come he’s not trying to kill anyone?”
“Because I’ve told him that he can’t move his limbs,” Christopher huffed.
“Yeaaaah.” Connor came into the room and shut the door behind him.
“Dude, I told you to stay in the hall. It’s not safe for you to be in here.”
Ignoring Ben, Connor ran his hand over the wall where the razor had gone in. He turned his gaze to Ben. “Am I awake right now? Are we all on acid or something?” He looked Christopher up and down. “I’m touched, Benji, that you wanted me to meet your new life partner and, um, thanks for
keeping Dutch from slitting my throat, but I think I uh...” Connor’s eyes rolled back in his head and he started to slump to the floor.
Ben threw the razor onto the coffee table and rewound Connor upright. He slid his arms around Connor’s waist and pulled his ex to him. “Christopher, do you think...?”
“C’mon Dutch,” Christopher soothed, backing slowly away from him. “Let’s you and I go into the kitchen for a minute and give these two a little privacy.” Christopher looked at Ben. “One minute.”
Dutch growled at Christopher, but then followed him down the hallway.
Ben hoisted Connor up, getting a better grip on him, and pulled him over to the brown leather couch. Connor had put on more muscle weight since he’d last seen him; his swimming scholarship at UCLA was obviously being put to good use.
Cautiously, Ben put his face to Connor’s neck and inhaled, letting the scent of chlorine and bergamot shampoo drown his senses. Connor stirred and Ben reluctantly pulled his face away as he laid Connor down. He rested his head on the arm of the couch and then lifted his sneaker-clad feet up so that he was lying flat. Ben sat down on the edge of the couch, his body pulsing from being so close to his trigger.
“Connor, sweetie, I need you to wake up.” Ben ran his palm down the side of Connor’s face, rousing him.
He sighed, opening his eyes, and put his hand on Ben’s to push it away but didn’t. “Get out of here. I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
Ben turned his hand over and twined his fingers with Connor’s. “I know, but your life is in danger. I’ve come here to lay it all out for you; I want to explain why I did what I did.”
“And you brought your boyfriend with you to do this?” Connor scoffed.
“He’s not my boyfriend, Christopher’s a friend. He’s like me.”
Connor squeezed Ben’s hand hard. “What? A man-whore?”
Ben winced. He’d deserved that and whatever else Connor wanted to say to him. He stared intently into Connor’s eyes, hoping that his expression was conveying the years of regret that he was feeling.
Zellie Wells Trilogy Page 41
