A Valentine for Two

by Lia Davis

  When she sat back down, she grabbed the file. She might hate the idea, but it didn’t mean she’d do a shitty job. Opening it up, she got the basics of the club. Its doors opened in twenty-twelve. Never had a complaint. Always paid their taxes. Beverage license was up to date.

  Oh shit. Incubi. She wasn’t prejudice or anything, but demons? She went over what little information there was available about the owners. Both men were on the up and up. No criminal records, not even small time driving citations. For demons, they were rather boring.

  The building though... Not so much. She shoved through the papers in the packet and frowned. There had been two fires there. One in the eighties and another in two-thousand. Everyone inside on both occasion perished.

  Why would someone burn down a club? She opened the browser on her computer, then typed in the dates for each accident. She opened the first report that popped up and skimmed through the article. The occult? What the fuck? Sierra clicked the back button, returning her to main browser page, then tapped the second link. She scanned the editorial. According to the piece, rumors had spread that those who went into the building were Satan worshipers.

  On the night of February 14th, 1985, the leader of The Church of the Heavenly Divine chained the doors before liberally dousing the structure with an accelerant and set it on fire. Three days later he was arrested with accelerant, lengths of chains and locks in the trunk of his car.

  When the detectives working the case questioned him on why he locked everyone inside and set the building on fire, his response was one that would haunt Sierra for the rest of her life. “The hedonistic demons of the night gathered there. Fire is the only thing to purify the land and their souls. I released them from their torturous life.”

  The recovery task took days. Apart from the building’s integrity issues, the bodies of those who were trapped inside were buried under mounds of burned out debris. None of people who were killed were demons, no matter how much the leader of the Heavenly Divine believed what he said to be true.

  At trial, the leader had been found not guilty due to diminished capacity and had been admitted to the mental ward of Metro Hospital in Norwalk, California, indefinitely.

  Six months after his admission to the hospital, he killed himself. The letter he left made no sense. “I didn’t kill myself. They’ve come to get me. May God have mercy on my soul.” He died by fire. Burning not only himself, but his room as well. The charred outline of his body showed up in the picture available online. Along with another story claiming the floor he resided on, including his room, was haunted. However, the stories couldn’t be corroborated, since the patients were technically insane.

  It wasn’t until almost ten years later before the paranormal community came out and introduced themselves. The police realized the leader of the Heavenly Divine had been telling the truth. The truth, however, didn’t negate what the man had done. Humans and supernaturals had died in that fire, and the law held the man responsible for taking their lives.

  She frowned.

  From what she’d read, the feelings of love and devotion weren’t very inspiring.

  The second case in two-thousand, a shooting, remained unsolved. Again, it happened on Valentine’s Day. A man stepped inside the club and opened fire on the several hundred people inside the Desoto Club. Two hundred people were shot, fifty-six died. Silver bullets were pulled from each of the victims. Why the hell would people want to go to this club? She flipped to the last bits of information her boss provided.

  “Good morning, Sierra.”

  She glanced up from the reports she’d been reading and smiled at her photographer, Jerry. “Hey. What are you doing here so early?”

  He pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “Jorge wanted to go over everything he expects with this Wolfsbane club sh-stuff.”

  “You can say shit. It won’t hurt my feelings.” She laughed.

  He grinned. The corners of his eyes crinkled from age. She’d worked with him for ten years, and three years ago, he outed himself as a wolf. At first it surprised her, probably made her a little leery, but she came to realize he was the same old Jerry. The only difference had been that she knew he went furry occasionally. His family became her family. She even joined them for dinner sometimes. His wife Margie and Sierra were good friends, and she absolutely loved his little girl Abby. “Yeah, well, I think it’s bullshit he’s making you do the story after you’ve asked for the day off.”

  His gruff growl made her smile. “I get two weeks off in exchange.”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t make it right.”

  She felt the same way. “So, what did we need to discuss?”

  “This podcast. We’re going to have photos taken, a little live feed for Facebook to cover a couple of the questions, and remind readers through a couple of apps that we’ll be live.”

  She frowned. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” He handed her the call sheet for the next few days.

  “Shit.” Sierra scrubbed her forehead. “I thought I could get this done and get the hell out of there.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No, it’s fine. I should have realized when he set this all up, it wouldn’t be as easy as he said.” She placed the sheet on top of the file. “Since you’re here, do you know anything about this club?” Or the fact the owners are demons—incubi, to be exact.

  “Not off the top of my head, why?”

  She dove back into the information. “It’s had its issues. Or, well, the building has. Did you know it was the site of two different attacks? One in the eighties and one in two-thousand.”

  “Really?”

  “The first time the building was burned to the ground with people inside. The perpetrator had been the leader of The Church of the Heavenly Divine.” She showed him the article. “The second, a shooting. Silver bullets were pulled from the victims.”

  “Why would anyone go there?” His brows furrowed as he read the write-ups. “I can see why you’d turn down this story.”

  “I think, and it’s only a wild guess, Jorge wants to romanticize it.”

  “Because death embodies love.”

  She laughed. “In some twisted sort of way?”

  “No. Not even a little bit.” His face contorted, almost like he tasted something disgusting and couldn’t get it out fast enough. “Even worse, the owners are incubi.”

  “What’s wrong with them being incubi?” Who knew supes had issues with other paras?

  “Look, not all incubi are bad. Some...well...they lie, cheat and use people for their own gain. Maybe I’m being a little over protective of you, but I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

  She nodded. “I understand. Thankfully, you’ll be there to save my virtue.” Sierra winked and squeezed his arm.

  He snorted. “Maybe I should be worried about them.”

  “So, tomorrow morning we’ll go over there, do the podcast. Couple of live updates then finish up on Valentine’s with the walk through and the party afterwards,” she said, ignoring his comment.

  He nodded. “If I were you I’d get a blessing from St. Mary’s.”

  She smirked. “I might do that.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” He pointed to the information Jorge gave her. “Don’t read too much. It’ll only psych you out.”

  “I won’t, promise.”

  When Jerry left her side, she shifted through everything, wanting a glimpse of who she’d be interviewing. When she found nothing, she screwed her face up as disbelief filled her. Ugh. Why me? Why do I always get these cases? Because, you’re a glutton for punishment.

  Touché.

  Chapter Two

  Sullivan “Sully” North, walked through the living quarters above Wolfsbane, in search of his business partner, best friend and sometimes lover, Carter Goode. They had a problem.

  When they purchased the building, they knew about the mass killings and the superstitious lore surrounding the place. The site had been the
scene of some gruesome tragedies over the years, and they hoped to change the perception of the area. Make the place a safe-haven for others like them. In turn, it opened them to several inquiries. The majority of which came from tabloid magazines. A few from legitimate newspapers and a couple of paranormal investigation groups. He and Carter denied all requests, unless the articles were used for promotion. They could never have too much free good publicity. However, today all their decisions came to a screeching halt, because Carter gave one reporter of a city newspaper a hit piece for Valentines. What the hell had he been thinking?

  As a pair of incubi, they set up the club as a place where para of all kinds could come and be safe within their four walls. Now his partner opened them up to a human. Nothing good could come of it.

  Though the veil between humans and paranormals had thinned over the years, it had become an inclusive world, or a world that knew of their existence. Though like with other races, there were those who didn’t like paranormals. Authors wrote books about them, and some of their ideas were dead on, while others not so much. Tolerance and fear were still palpable emotions within this world they dwelled in. And, every day, they opened the door to both humans and para alike to bridge the gap and hope they did a little good in the world.

  Which led him back to his current conundrum. A human reporter was coming to their club to do an interview for Valentine’s Day. Stupid humans and their stupid holidays. He hated it. In the almost ten years he’d owned the club with Carter, he’d seen some asinine shit. The fights were the worst. Watching wolves fight over a person drove him insane. He’d tried to talk his partner out of doing this stupid party this year. Inviting humans could only cause problems. What if one of them saw something they shouldn’t? There were too many opportunities for something to go wrong.

  Stepping into Carter’s bedroom, Sullivan stopped short when a leggy brunette slid from the bed. Her tits were on point when she turned to face him. High and perky with wine-colored nipples, they made his mouth watered. Whoever her surgeon was, he did a fan-fucking-tastic job.

  Without a stitch of makeup, she had a classic beauty about her. Her high cheekbones and eyes the color of sun-kissed wheat gave way to full lips made to suck cock. Her scent also drove him insane. Honey and berries. Jesus, give me fucking strength here. Unfortunately, when he drew in her aroma once more, he realized it was artificial. A perfume.

  Her natural scent was clouded by the aromas of sweat and his best friend. Not ours. Still. The bastard hadn’t shared. Fucker. She gave him a little finger wave along with a cat who got the cream grin, before heading down the hall. Sullivan’s gaze followed the bounce and sway of her ass as she practically skipped toward the door with her clothes in her arms. His dick instantly responded, thickening behind the fly of his pants.

  A few seconds later, Carter appeared from his bathroom, a towel clinging to his hips as he rubbed another against his head to dry his hair. “Morning.” He crossed the room and grabbed the fake-prescription glasses off the table and put them on. Although he didn’t give a rat’s ass about fitting in, his friend took on human traits.

  “Morning,” he grunted stepping farther into the space. “We have a problem.”

  His friend dropped his towels, uncaring of his naked state. “Oh?” He stood in front of his closet. “What?” Without even trying, he teased Sullivan with the round globes of his ass as he shifted from foot to foot.

  Fucking hell. Whenever there were problems, the cheeky English ass did whatever he could to distract him, including using his body. Now, they both loved women, but they were also fuck buddies. A helping hand when the situation deemed necessary. They happened to figure it out one night when they were sharing a girl. Carter reached for her but got a hand full of Sullivan’s cock. The shock of pleasure and the blast of desire had short circuited him.

  The rest had been history.

  “A reporter is coming tomorrow to do a podcast then a follow-up expose of the club on Valentine’s.”

  Carter glanced over at him. “I invited her. Well, whoever they’re sending.”

  He pulled a face. “Her, who? Why?”

  Carter grabbed a shirt off a hanger and slipped it over his shoulders before grabbing a pair of slacks. “Why not? It’s free advertisement for us.”

  “It also exposes us.” He crossed his arms.

  His friend pulled on the pants. “It’ll also bring us more profits.” He stuffed his semi-hard cock into his slacks and zipped up. “I thought it was all about the bottom line with you.”

  “It is. Bringing humans into the club so they can enjoy the evening is stressful enough. Add in a reporter, and it could lead to a disaster of epic proportions.”

  “It’s free publicity. As long as we keep our shit together, we’ll be fine.” He buttoned his shirt while walking back to his bathroom. “Here I thought you were pissed I didn’t share Candi with you.”

  “The girl?”

  Carter stuck his head out the door. “Yep.”

  “Eh, she’s hot.” Sullivan shrugged, more pissed about the human publicity than the piece of ass.

  “Look, we schmooze. We butter up whoever comes here and then we usher her out with a thank you. We get more people interested in the club and more money. It’s a win-win. We can’t go wrong with this.”

  “This has the potential to blow up in our face. It could expose us all. We don’t need the Council breathing down our neck.”

  The Council ruled the para realm. Though paras had to follow human laws, anything transgressions against paras went through the Council. The mortal law could not contain some of the predatory beasts roaming the human plane, forcing creation of their own sets of laws and punishments. Governed by the Council. What or how they deemed a para guilty, Sullivan didn’t know, but the rumored punishments kept paras on the straight and narrow.

  Carter came out of his bathroom. “You better be on your best behavior then.” He patted Sullivan on the chest.

  He tipped his partner’s chin up. “Or what?”

  Carter bit his lip, before giving him a devilish grin. “You tell me.”

  “Coy git.” Sullivan dipped his head and kissed his partner. “Changing the subject isn’t going to get you out of this.”

  “Oh?” He slipped to his knees. “Are you sure?” His palm grazed Sullivan’s erection. “Remember how we used to time our blow jobs. Whoever could get the other off the fastest had to make dinner.” Carter continued to stroke Sullivan’s cock while pressing warm, opened mouth kisses to his crotch. The heat seeped past the denim covering him.

  Sullivan groaned. “Fuck. I’d be stupid to not let you finish.”

  The rasp of his zipper slipping free of its teeth had his heart pounding. “Then don’t say it.”

  “We have shit to settle before that nosy reporter gets—fuck.” He grunted, fisting Carter’s hair. The silky heat of Carter’s mouth engulfed Sully’s dick. “Lick my balls, like I like it.”

  His partner eased his sac from his pants then ran his tongue along the tight skin. A shiver of pleasure rolled down Sully’s spine. “Don’t worry about the interview.”

  He gave a breathy chuckle. “Easy for you to say.” He clenched his jaw as Carter wrapped his mouth around the helmet of his shaft and hummed.

  Carter could suck cock. Sullivan hadn’t realized just how well until the first time his friend’s lush mouth encased him. Carter’s tongue flicked Sullivan’s slit before he nibbled on the spongey flesh. His grip tightened. Shit he was good. Already Sullivan’s ass clenched in hopes of staving off his release. The first-time Carter sucked his dick, he blew in thirty seconds. Now Sullivan savored it.

  He held Carter’s head still and began to fuck his mouth. He’d say it felt like a pussy—warm and wet, snug when he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked. Fuck! He grunted, increasing his pace. Carter’s mouth, pure sublime torture, the kind of torture he could endure for hours on end, every day for years, as long as when he blew his wad, Carter swallowed it down.

&nb
sp; “Pull your cock out and start rubbing yourself. I love watching you get off.”

  Carter whimpered but did as Sullivan asked. As soon as he had his erection in hand, Carter pushed deep, almost to the back of his throat and swallowed. Sparks of pure bliss flashed through his body like Christmas lights, blinking to life as if to some unheard song. His thrust became impatient. Cum filled his balls. The sounds his lover made while pumping his hard rod turned Sully on.

  “So fucking hot. I’m going to bust a nut from watching you.”

  Carter’s lust-filled gaze flashed to his. The blue depths held so much knowledge and hope, he almost couldn’t stand staring down at him.

  “Uh, huh. Have I ever told you how much I love your thick, uncut cock? The way the head peeks out when you get hard. Gets me all fucked up in the head.” His dick jerked in his lover’s mouth.

  Carter pulled off his length. “Gonna blow.”

  The way he said that always brought a smile to his lips. For a proper Englishman, he picked up American slang like it was second nature for him. “There with you.”

  “You first.” His lover attacked his dick like he couldn’t stand another second of keeping it out of his mouth. He sucked and licked, bobbing his head at a quickened pace before pushing himself to take it all the way to his throat and swallowing. The constriction around the head of Sullivan’s dick, destroyed his will power.

  With roar he came. His dick pulsed and kicked in Carter’s mouth, while his lover swallowed his seed. Then, seconds later, Carter joined him. His cries muffled by Sully’s cock still stuffing his mouth. His heart pounded. His blood sang through his veins. Not a bad way to start the day.

  “Still worried about the reporter?” Carter asked, after backing off his shaft.

  He laughed as he rubbed his semi-hard cock while pushing himself back into his pants. “What reporter?”

  “I should have invited you to join me in a little bit of Candi last night.” Carter stood and straightened his clothes.