Mosaic Moon

by Jamie Craig

  Jesse bit back the immediate impulse to snap I didn't know. "Hey, man, I would have but I didn't know you were interested. I guess she and Ethan are pretty serious now. I've got to run. Thanks for the info."

  "Can you tell Emma to give me a call about visiting the families?" There was another laugh. "Tell her I promise not to hit on her again."

  "I'll do that the next time I see her," Jesse promised. Which would satisfy Derek. He didn't need to know that Jesse didn't have any intention to speak to her in the near future. "I'm sure she'll be happy to help."

  "Let's hope so. Keep me filled in."

  Then the line went dead.

  Any previous desire to leave the office dissipated with that phone call. Fourteen graves? What sort of magic required that many corpses? Or pieces of corpses? Gideon would want to know. And Gideon would need to know about all of this soon.

  He made his way downstairs to the apartment, collecting books as he went. If nothing else, he could try to narrow down what they were looking for--a black mage, a sorcerer, a demon with an elaborate mating ritual, or something Jesse hadn't even thought of yet. Jesse stretched out on the couch with his books, with a heavy sense of déjà vu. How many times had he tried to distract himself from personal chaos in books?

  Jesse was surprised to see the trick still worked.

  * * * *

  The office was dark and silent when Gideon pushed the door open with his shoulder, the only sounds coming from the bags rustling in his hands. He dropped them by the entrance, wincing when the finger he'd dislocated ripping the head off a fledgling got caught in the plastic handle. Kicking the door shut with his heel, he marched straight for the stairs to the apartment, peeling away his ruined shirt as he moved. All he wanted was a hot shower, a warm Jesse to curl around, and a week's worth of sleep.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Gideon paused. Jesse was stretched out on the couch, half-buried in books, fast asleep. More than a few days worth of stubble darkened his cheeks, and his hair looked like it had been even longer since he'd combed it. His breathing was deep and even, though, and as Gideon watched, he sighed and shifted more onto his side.

  The book that had been open on his stomach slid, and Gideon darted forward to catch it before it hit the floor. The spine jammed against his hurt finger, sending a sharp pain up his wrist, but as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any noise, Jesse's lashes fluttered open.

  "I was trying not to wake you," Gideon murmured, holding up the offending book.

  "I didn't mean to fall asleep," Jesse said thickly, plucking the book from his hand. He studied it like he wasn't quite sure what he was looking at, then set it aside. "How did everything go? Are you hurt?"

  "Not anything worth fussing over. But the nest is gone, and I've got the proof in bags in the office, so we can call in the morning to let them know." His eyes swept over the books. "Did you get a new case while I was gone?"

  Jess sat up, wiping his hand over his face. "No. I mean, yes, there's a new case." He glanced at Gideon quickly and then looked away. "Black John called me last week. Remember when I said he'd collect on that favor? He's called in the debt."

  Gideon stilled. With a year under their belt since the whole obsidian mess, he had hoped that John had either decided he'd helped out of the blackness of his heart or forgotten about the marker he needed to cash in. Jess might like the mage, but in Gideon's book, nothing good could come of their association with him, even if it was a necessary evil.

  "What does he want?" he asked carefully.

  "In the simplest terms, he wants us...you...to remove a competitor. They're both competing for the same resources. The problem is that John doesn't know who this person is. Or even if it is a person. I would have mentioned it sooner, but you were busy and I was trying to do some leg work."

  "So how we are supposed to catch him if John doesn't even know who the bastard is?"

  Jesse sank back against the couch, looking miserable. "It might not be impossible to figure out who it is. The resource John needs is rather unique. We just have to figure out who's desecrating graves and if there's a pattern."

  "Graves."

  He had to have heard that wrong. Gideon glanced at the books again, this time noting the titles. Every single one had to do with black magics, except for an anatomy text.

  Anger, white-hot and swift, surged through Gideon's veins, driving him to his feet. He began pacing around the room, his heavy steps kicking at the books that lay in his path, and his hands balled into fists.

  "Have you gone insane?" he ranted. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that kind of magic really is? Wait, look who I'm talking to. Of course, you do. You're just naïve enough to think that whatever John wants it for can't be all bad because you've got a soft spot for the son of a bitch."

  Jesse paled, but he responded evenly. "I didn't agree to this because I thought it was a good idea. I owe him. We owe him. If I refuse to pay back his favor, and that gets around, all of the connections that I've spent the last three years making will fall apart. Nobody wants to work with a person who doesn't live up to his obligations."

  The argument made Gideon come to a standstill. Damn it. That was an excellent argument, one that was impossible to refute. The only reason Gideon could get as much done around the city as he could was because of Jesse's ability to get people to trust him; without them, his effectiveness would be drained to inconsequential proportions. If only it was anybody else but Black John.

  "Tell me you at least know what he wants with the graves." Gideon knew he sounded like he was pleading, but at this point, he needed a crumb.

  "No, not yet. It's been a bit hard to concentrate tonight. But um..." He bent, rifling through the books he could reach. When he didn't find the book he wanted, he slid from the couch to the floor and felt around until his fingers closed on a thick volume. "According to Derek, there have been fourteen desecrations. Fourteen is an insignificant number for magic. But eighteen." He flipped through the pages and then held it up triumphantly. "Eighteen. Two sets of nine. We have time to figure it out and stop whoever it is we're looking for."

  He took the book but only cast a cursory glance at the pages. Magic had never been his forte. It was why he'd initially brought Jesse on board. But if Jess said they had time to stop whatever it was John and his rival were working toward, that was good enough for Gideon.

  "You called Derek, huh?" Gideon sat down, leaning heavily into the corner of the couch. "Did they have any leads?"

  "No. He said there was no forensic evidence." Jesse closed the book and sat back on his heels. "They're more or less blind right now. Derek was only too happy to make it our problem."

  "Of course," he muttered. With an exhausted sigh, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the back cushion, trying not to think about all the potential badness that could come in getting involved in John's practices. He needed to focus on what he could actually accomplish. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to explode like that. I'm just...I'm just tired."

  "It's okay," Jesse said, joining him on the couch. "I expected you to yell a little bit. I was hoping if I waited, I'd find some mitigating factors. Or be able to take care of it myself."

  Without opening his eyes, Gideon reached for him and pulled him onto his chest. The familiar warmth of his breath and the comforting staccato of his pulse helped smooth more of the edges from his taut nerves, and he began stroking along Jesse's spine.

  "We'll think about it tomorrow," he said. "All that's been on my mind since leaving Wisconsin is getting home and getting to you."

  Jesse sighed and relaxed against him. "I'm glad you're home. I've had a long day. A really long day." He lifted his head and kissed his jaw. "If you're tired, we should go to bed."

  "In a minute. I want to enjoy this first." He pulled Jesse closer when the other man rested his head again, breathing in the clean warmth of his skin, the scent of sleep that still lingered in his pores. "So is this what you've been doing while I've been gone?" he murm
ured.

  "Mostly. I took a break earlier today to go see Emma. She wasn't there. But Ethan was."

  Something about his tone made Gideon open his eyes and look down. He'd expected to get back and have to nag Jesse even more to go talk to her, but he'd done it of his own volition. That was a good sign. Well, except for the fact that he hadn't actually talked to her yet.

  "Are you going to go back and see her tomorrow then?" He paused, Jesse's words sinking in. "Wait. Ethan was there and she wasn't?"

  "Ethan said she was out running errands. I think that he's made himself quite at home there. And, no, I'm not going back to see her tomorrow," Jesse said flatly. "She's with Ethan."

  "You knew that before you went over there."

  Jesse lifted his head. "No, I didn't. I didn't know they're sleeping together, and I didn't know they love each other, and I didn't know he had practically moved into her apartment. Emma never told me any of that."

  Gideon had known. Well, he'd known about the sleeping together part. But that was a recent development, only in the past few weeks. Maybe he should've mentioned that to Jess, but at the time, he'd thought it would just be one more argument for Jesse to use to not follow through on talking to her.

  "She doesn't love him," Gideon argued. "He's a schmuck." He had never used that word so much before meeting Ethan. Now, it was the one he always coined when referring to him. "And so what if they're sleeping together? That doesn't change the fact that she still gets all hot and bothered when you're around."

  "No. I'm done with this. I've had all day to think about it. If she's happy with him, then she's happy with him."

  "How do you know she's happy with this if you haven't asked her?"

  Jesse groaned. "How do you know she's not?"

  "Because..." Gideon stopped. He couldn't be exactly sure. He just knew that Jess and Emma were good together, that both of them lit up in ways they didn't around other people. Not Ethan. Not himself. "All right," he said, trying another tactic. "Let's say you don't tell her how you feel. Let's say you decide to be all noble and self-sacrificing and give up before you even got started. How do you see your relationship with Emma now? Do you think you'll stop loving her just because you think she's in love with Ethan?"

  "No, probably not. Ethan is a schmuck, but I think he was right about a few things." Jesse pulled away from him and stood. "I'm going to make some tea and go over those reports. You should get some sleep. You look beat."

  There was no way he could sleep with Jesse still so upset. He followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Jess pretended not to notice that he was hovering, carrying the kettle to the sink to start filling it with water.

  "What do you think he was right about?" Gideon asked. "What did he say to you?"

  "He said that she needed somebody who could understand her, and understand what it's like to be an empath. He said that she needed somebody who can give her the attention she needs." Jesse flipped the faucet off and plugged in the kettle.

  He waited for the punch line, but it looked like Jesse was done talking. "And who says that someone has to be her lover?"

  "That someone should be who she wants to share her life with," Jesse said softly.

  "But what if she wants that person to be you?" Gideon pressed. "You're not even giving her the option by not talking to her."

  "Gideon, I have no reason to believe she wants me to give her the option. God, you get something in your head and you just will not let it go. Which, I admit, is attractive when you're not trying to wear me down. But now? It's just really aggravating."

  He wanted to snap back that it was just as aggravating trying to get Jesse to see how he was giving Ethan far too much power, but the look in his eyes tied Gideon's tongue. They were both tired, and Jesse was clearly still hurting from his encounter at Emma's. Nothing good would come from pressing the issue tonight.

  Coming up behind him, Gideon reached past Jesse and unplugged the kettle. "Let's forget about working," he murmured, skimming his mouth across Jesse's ear. "I haven't seen you in days. Let's go to bed so I can show you how much I've missed you."

  Jesse turned around and slid his hands up Gideon's shoulders, then brought his mouth to Gideon's in a surprisingly hungry kiss. It was the only response he needed.

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Peace. At some point, Gideon decided to give him some, plunging the office back to its normal silence while they both worked. And it was easy to distract himself with work, spending the rest of the week pouring over every detail of the desecrated graves, and cross-referencing those details, until slowly a pattern began to emerge. The emerging pattern lifted his spirits tremendously. By Friday, he was smiling again.

  That smile almost faded when Emma and Ethan strolled through their door just after dusk. Just the sight of her was enough to make his groin tighten. He could tell at the first glance that they were going out on the town again. Her scarlet dress was cut short, a sharp contrast to the pale skin it exposed--and it exposed a lot of skin. Even though he had seen her completely naked, the cut made his mouth water, teasing him. The skirt flared around her legs, putting him in the mind for dancing, and her blonde hair hung around her shoulders in soft curls. His nostrils flared, like he could catch a whiff of her soap from across the room. He curled his hands into fists and forced them at his sides.

  "Well, what brings you two around?" Jesse asked pleasantly, forcing his gaze away from her. He didn't need to be caught drooling.

  "Derek called me." Dropping her purse on the couch, she left Ethan hanging back in the doorway to approach Jesse's cluttered desk. She tilted her head as she neared, fingers skimming over the stack of faxed police reports in the corner, before she came around the back to peer over Jesse's shoulder. "Is this all stuff on the grave robbers he was talking about?"

  He could smell her now. And she smelled heavenly. "It is. Since we don't know who's responsible, I'm hoping I can predict his next move."

  "How?" Ethan asked from the doorway.

  Jesse barely spared him a glance. "With this sort of magic, he doesn't just need random corpses. If he did, he'd probably go the easier route and just buy them from somebody." He wrinkled his nose at Emma's look of disgust. "Well, you can buy corpses. But if I can figure out his selection process..."

  "If. Ha." From where he stood in his open office door, Gideon met Jesse's eyes and shook his head. "You've almost got it and you know it."

  "I'm close." He turned his attention to Emma and the words came automatically. "But it wouldn't hurt to have an extra set of eyes, if you've got some time."

  Her instant smile went straight to his gut. "Whenever you want. Just tell me when."

  "I would suggest tonight, but you look like you're dressed to kill," Jesse said, shocked and relieved that he could still talk to her like nothing had changed. They could have had this very conversation two weeks ago with no variation. "Where are you going looking like that?"

  Though she glanced at Ethan before answering, her full attention was back on Jesse in the very next second. "We didn't end up going out to a club again last weekend so I wanted to try again tonight," Emma said. She took a step back and held out her arms, doing a quick turn that made the skirt flare around her legs. "You don't think it's too much? It's new. It's a little shorter than I'm used to."

  "I think it's just right," Jesse said sincerely, but he didn't complete his thought. As much as he wanted to tear it off her, he was also a little jealous. He'd never had the opportunity to take Emma to a club, even on a friendly date. It was never even a possibility before. "Ethan's going to be the most hated man at the club."

  "Envied," Ethan corrected.

  "That, too," he said without looking away. "That dress was made for dancing. Are you going to show off some of your moves?"

  She stopped, a faint stain rising in her cheeks. "Oh, not without music. And a few drinks."

  "I can fix that," Gideon offered, jerking a thumb back toward his office.


  Emma laughed. "I think you've even got Jimmy Hoffa in there." Her attention returned to Jesse, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment before adding, "Why don't you come with us? You can see how much a fool I make of myself live and in person then."

  A night in Ethan's company, even if it meant spending time with Emma, was not his idea of a good time. He'd probably punch the other man in the face, for one thing. Gideon would approve, no doubt, but Jesse knew he shouldn't put himself in the path of temptation.

  "I can't tonight," he said with genuine regret. "We don't really have the time to spare."

  "White might be too young for him," Ethan said.

  Jesse frowned. He knew the popular dance club, though he really never got the chance to go. "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing." Emma shot Ethan a small frown. "Ethan just doesn't know you like I do."

  "I'll take you dancing, Emma, as soon as we take care of John's case. How does that sound?"

  The suggestion was out of Jesse's mouth before he thought to stop it, but the delighted smile she turned in his direction banished any residual anxiety he had about making it. "I think that's a great idea," she said. "We've never had a chance to do that before now. Well, there was Sangre, but..." For a moment, her eyes flickered to his neck, and he knew she was remembering the leash and collar he'd worn the first time they'd met. Her blush deepened, but there was a twinkle in her eye when their gazes met again. "You can handle wearing clothes at a club, right?"

  Jesse's lips twitched. "I don't know. I never tried." With a smirk he added, "I guess what I used to go dancing in could generously be called clothes."

  "You used to go clubbing?" It was genuine surprise in Gideon's voice. "You never told me that."

  Jesse looked up, tearing his attention away from Emma for the first time. "I guess it never came up. But, yeah, I used to go all the time." He smiled a little sheepishly. "My whole first year at Cambridge is more or less a blur."