by R. Cooper
He hated himself just for having the thought. Not because it was a fairy in the doorway—they all smelled temptingly ethereal—but because it was Cal. Cal Parker, who smelled sweet but also solid, like sunbeams and sugar cookies with an underlying layer of clean sweat, and whose emotions always rang out like a bell, with a pure want/want/want that made Ray ache.
He could easily lose himself in Cal Parker. It was aggravating. He turned to Penn, then all the way around, and ignored the sudden brightness in the room, like the lights were shorting out.
“Why is he here? Why are you here?” He knew the answer of course. Parker and his friend Benedict were the department’s consultants on cases involving Beings and human magic. But they rarely came to crime scenes, and Ray preferred it that way.
He fixed a glare onto his face and crossed his arms as he looked them both over. Benedict first, as it was less complicated to note that Benedict must have come here during his working hours at his other job. He had on a suit, slicker and shinier than anything Ray could have afforded, though in the same sensible colors. Plain suits that always somehow looked better when Oscar Benedict wore them, his always crisp, always pressed, white shirts stunning against his dark skin.
Ray took petty satisfaction in the fact that though Benedict was ridiculously attractive, his name still sounded like something you ordered from room service, and resisted the need to check his tie. It was straight. His shirt was wrinkle free. There was nothing to be done about his looks. Dark hair, sprinkled with white, blue eyes, and a nose that had been broken once by an imp and so hadn’t healed straight. Nothing really that impressive, aside from his size, but that was standard for a werewolf.
He met Parker’s gaze through the cloud of shimmering glitter that surrounded him and spoke even as he took in everything about the other man.
“Managed to get some clothes on today?” he remarked, directing his eyes to the tight athletic shirt Parker was wearing. It was contoured to his body like it had been painted on. Parker wasn’t as slender as most male fairies but still had that same fit, slim build, the same glowingly warm-looking skin, and the same lack of modesty. “And out of bed before noon?” he snarked. “I’m shocked.”
To be fair, if Ray had to cut holes in his shirts to fit a set of wings, he’d probably go shirtless too. But fairies sometimes didn’t draw the line at going shirtless, and in his days on the beat, he’d given them way too many warnings, having to make notes each time, indecent exposure, special circs: Fairy.
He could just see the sheen of Parker’s wings when he raised his attention from making sure that Parker had pants on. He did: worn, torn jeans that were doing nothing to help Ray feel anything less than ravenous.
They looked soft, and they didn’t conceal much.
Parker was twitching, as were his wings, undersized due to his parentage, but still a vivid array of purple and blue and green. His hair and eyes were brown, seemingly dull in comparison to those useless, tiny wings, until you got a good look at the shifting lights in both, gold and green and chocolate. His mouth was pink and spotted with sugar.
Ray licked his lips, then blinked. Fairies. If the lack of shame wasn’t annoying enough, there was always their sugar-filled diets. It was like hanging out with hummingbirds. They couldn’t be still to save their lives.
Nasreen fluttering over to glue herself to Audrey’s side came to mind before Ray could stop the thought. She hadn’t budged until she’d been forced to.
He realized abruptly that he was staring, that Parker was watching him stare, his eyes wide, and snapped, “Stay back, Parker! I don’t want glitter in my crime scene!” Fairy glitter vanished as it hit the ground and generally didn’t stain, but there was always a chance. Parker immediately stuck out his lower lip in a pout, not even a little hurt, though Ray was almost yelling at him.
“Someone’s tired and grouchy. Does Rover need to get laid?”
Ray looked at his partner. “I am going to kill him.” Ross snorted from the doorway. Penn hid a laugh.
“No you’re not.” She pointed at Parker and Benedict and used that Siren voice of hers that made most men sit up and take notice. “Just be careful.” She didn’t have to be stern. They nodded and didn’t move from the doorway as they glanced around, both of them avoiding looking at the body for long.
Ray could remember their captain when he’d hired Benedict and Parker on for the first time. The department was already unique with Ray and Penn there—Being detectives—but he’d said it was time they had more resources who understood magic and Beings. The captain was right. And yes, though Benedict was a—studying—human wizard, and though, yes, being half-fairy meant Parker saw through the magical disguises of any Being and could sense when magic was used like any other fairy, and together they knew more about things non-human than most others, they were still civilians.
This was dangerous work and nothing that anyone like them should have to see. And… Cal Parker smelled too good for Ray to think clearly around him.
“We’re always careful.” Benedict insisted. Parker just had to keep it going.
“Nuh uh, remember that one time in high school when you tripped and landed face first in Debbie Gunderson’s lap? Hey, so, Ray Ray….”
Ray gritted his teeth and waited, but Benedict called Parker’s attention back to their work. He was the more responsible of the two.
“What’s high school got to do with it, Cal? Do you see that stuff on the ground by the desk?”
“The faint residue of white, powdery stuff on the carpet? No. I don’t see it.”
“Man, shut up. We’re at work.”
“Well of course I see it! It’s so obvious! What do I look like? Don’t answer that.”
“Enough.” Ray breathed out, and they both stopped their banter to calmly stare at him. “CSU took a sample already.”
“Oh.” They looked around as one.
“You know, something in this room is making me all tingly.”
“Too much information, Cal.” Benedict beat Ray to it. “So who is—was—this guy?”
“Elliot Fielding. Defense attorney.”
“A smug bastard, when he’d been alive,” Ross piped in. “Defended scum.”
“So you knew him?” Benedict blinked.
“We all did.” Penn explained. “But we’ll find his killer….”
“So some other prick lawyer can get them off.” Ray finished, sharing a grin with her. Ross let out a small laugh too, making Cal shoot him a disgruntled look. Then Cal turned back to Ray.
“Ooh, should I make a ‘get him off’ joke?”
“Not if you like breathing,” Ray snarled quietly, meeting Parker’s eyes and knowing it was a mistake when he was filled with the urge to throw Parker against the nearest wall and hold him there and take all that want and that smart mouth and show him what a lack of shame could really mean.
The image sucked the breath right from him and was probably visible in his eyes. As part Fairy, Cal could see through almost any guise, but his ability to read expressions and spot lies was a skill learned from his human father, who had been the finest cop this department had ever seen. He was even the reason Cal was working with them now.
It had seemed so innocent then. They’d needed insight into magic and other Beings. Calvin, newly retired, had suggested they ask his son.
Ray’s life had never been the same.
The sparkles around Cal flared, and Ray abruptly felt obvious. His face was hot, and he blushed to realize he was growling lowly.
It was the most embarrassing thing he could have done, aside from getting hard right here, and he wasn’t far from that. He never lost control like this, or hadn’t used to.
He turned away quickly before Parker could react and studied the victim again.
“Make yourself useful, Tulip, and tell us your theory.”
He was rewarded with a burst of overly appreciative laughter from Ross. Parker howled in fake outrage.
“A slur, Branigan? An anti-
fairy slur!” It was almost delight in his voice, a warmth at Ray’s nicknames for him that Ray never understood. Even the first time Ray had done it, called him Tiger Lily out of desperation, Cal had seemed to find it amusing.
Amusing, hell. He had found it enchanting. “Not all of us are named after flowers, I’ll remind you, Ray.”
“Just most of you,” Ray couldn’t help responding. Even in other languages. Ray had looked it up. Nasreen meant a type of rose.
Parker’s voice only got warmer. “Bad dog. Just for that, no biscuit.”
Ray coughed before he could growl again, though he angled his head and caught the little tart’s pleased smirk and had to clench his hands to keep from grabbing him and….
“Go on, Cal.” Penn, bless her heart, saved him and his dignity. Parker paused to make sure that Ray’s eyes were on him and then posed dramatically.
“Personal somehow, is the feeling I get in here. I mean. That.” He waved at Fielding without looking at him. “What, did he snap his neck and throw him around a little?” Ray could smell Ross’s surprise, but he and Penn only nodded. Parker was, under it all, as sharp as they came. “But the strength here….” Cal looked up at him. “You okay, Ray Ray? You seem… edgy.”
His honest concern was like sunshine.
Ray touched his nose and almost backed up.
“The smell in here,” was all he said. Even when he wasn’t wolf, or the moon wasn’t full, his sharp senses were a pain in the ass. This was making him restless with the need to hunt down the killer. This was his town, his to protect. And—
There was a hand on his arm, and he looked at Parker, then swallowed. At his side, Penelope said his name, calling him back too.
“Ray.” She smiled. “You hungry?” It was only the beginning of what was wrong with him at the moment, but he nodded with a sigh.
“Do you smell anything else though, Ray?” Cal added, in a whisper. Probably because Beings might be around, but it didn’t mean that a werewolf made everyone, even Ray’s fellow cops, comfortable all the time. No one liked working with the guy who could tear you to pieces if he wanted—or who could smell every time you farted.
But it was still surprising how calmly Cal took Ray’s sense of smell, how he knew about it and was willing to trust it. He was, always had been, more intrigued by it than even men Ray had dated. Like in the stunned days after they’d first met, Ray could recall Cal in his bathroom of all places, demanding to know why Ray didn’t use aftershave. And then… and then after that, still raw with new feelings, new urges, Ray had let himself be lulled into curiosity, fairy-led ever closer to that shimmering presence and had forgotten that a fairy wouldn’t understand.
He shook himself out of it in time to hear the rest of Cal’s question. “Like the bad guy?”
“I… no. I can only smell—” You. Ray stopped. “The people here. And maybe something like metal. Not blood.” Something hateful, but he couldn’t quite name it and didn’t want to around Cal.
“Oh, well.” Cal suddenly released Ray and fluttered back toward his best friend. “It was just a thought. Why don’t you go eat? Benny and I are done anyway, aren’t we Bens?”
“Hell yeah. It’s creepy in here.” Ray exchanged another look with Penn, civilians, and a sigh, then moved.
There was a wave of mixed feelings as Cal stepped aside to let him go, and a butter/syrup/pancakes smell, driving Ray crazy. It was Sundays and morning-after breakfasts and everything that was good, even with the hint of very real, very human sweat underneath it, and the soda on Cal’s breath, and that popping rock candy just at the edge of his lips.
What Parker had had for breakfast. Probably in the car. There were shadows under his eyes too, like a late night, and the vague trace of ink on his wrist that meant he’d gone out in the past few days.
Ray couldn’t smell a man or a woman on him this time, but he was so beautiful he’d be popular when he was out. Exotic to humans and Beings alike. And as a fairy he would have seen as little difference between them as men and women, ready to sample anything and everything before flitting off to try something else.
If only that were the way Ray’s kind worked.
He pulled back before he could lick candy from Parker’s mouth and walked out with Penelope on his heels. To the station—no, to get a bite—then to the station.
“That’s enough, Dandelion. We have work to do.”
He should have known he wouldn’t get the last word.
“One of these days, Branigan, you’re going to tell me what it will take to get dragged off to your love cave!” Parker called out at his back, so everyone could hear, and Ray closed his eyes, then opened them in time to catch Ross’s scowl, but the man’s issues were the least of Ray’s problems today.
Fairies.
AS LUNCH places hadn’t been open yet, he and Penn had ended up driving back to the station, where word had been waiting for them that Perretti would probably get bail and would get out if the amount wasn’t set large enough. At this point his scent was familiar enough that Ray could probably track him down by that alone if he had to.
But when Penn had gone down to the M.E. for the preliminary report, alone, to save Ray’s nose the aggravation of the morgue, which was itchy death and chemicals and the same fake sterility of the hospital to him, he’d stopped by the courthouse to see a friend before heading out to get some sushi.
It was the one food he and his partner could always agree on, and the thought of raw fish was making his mouth water. He put her order on her desk for her but paused at his, inhaling the faint hint of warm and welcome, like fresh cinnamon rolls.
He smiled as he took off his coat and sat down and had about half a second to realize that his blood was pounding in a familiar, uncomfortable way and that what he was smelling all over his things was Cal Parker, my/Cal/mine, and then that it was getting stronger because Cal was in the station somewhere.
He lifted his head, listening, and heard their footsteps and approaching banter before he saw Benedict and Parker. Of course. So he couldn’t eat in peace. He froze just the same when he did finally lay eyes on them, on Parker, who had lost that shirt in the past few hours and whose bare skin fairly glistened.
And the bastard was sucking on a lollipop. Cherry. Shining and wet and red.
Ray’s pulse quickened, and he set his jaw. That was all he needed. His mother had tried to warn him it was like this, but he hadn’t believed her. He suspected no one did until it happened to them. Fucking hell. He was too tired to deal with this. Tired like he’d been running for two years, which wasn’t an inaccurate description.
He didn’t much care that he was growling when he spoke, though if you knew Weres, it was a dead giveaway.
“Have you been around my desk today, Parker?” he demanded. “Sitting in my chair?”
“Yes!” Benedict stopped in his tracks and answered. Ray didn’t give a crap if it was fear or respect.
“Traitor!” Parker hissed as Benedict held up his phone to show what looked like videos of Cal Parker wriggling, wriggling, in Ray’s chair, laughing and saying something and rubbing his tight ass all over it as he wheeled the chair around. Grinding that ass like he was about to do on Ray’s desk now.
“No.” He barked when Cal’s ass was inches from the desktop. “Off. Now.” He’d never be able to work otherwise. Or stand up for that matter.
The lower lip came out for another pout, but Cal stopped and pulled back. For about three seconds, and then he plopped his butt right back down on the edge like he always did. Like his ass belonged there. As though it wasn’t bad enough Ray’s reports sometimes shimmered and smelled like double rainbow orgasms.
Like what Cal would smell like with him, Ray’s instincts told him. He was almost fully hard just thinking about it. Luckily, Parker broke the mood by dropping his sticky lollipop onto the desk. Ray grimaced and carefully picked it up to drop it in his trashcan.
“I am not going to ask why you’d do that,” he pushed out and got
waved away.
“Even you know why, Ray Ray, and you aren’t as smart as Benny and I… me… I? Are.”
“Me.” Benedict corrected. Ray flicked his eyes to him. It was safer.
“Okay.” He wasn’t going there. Not today. Cal could pout all he wanted. “Why are you two here?” He looked away from both of them and opened his takeout to gobble down some fish.
“After much research from my grimoire….” Benedict began, just a touch on the pompous side.
“You looked it up online!” Cal tutted. “Don’t be silly.” Ray kept his head down, just listening. Even aroused and furious, he wanted to smile.
“Cal!” Benedict was all wounded pride. “Half this business is the mystery. What have I told you?”
“Since when are you the business expert? You’re an accountant.”
“I am a financial wizard.” Benedict’s words were precise.
“An accountant who studies magic isn’t a wizard.” Only childhood friends could talk to each other like that. Or an old married couple. But not once had Ray ever caught a whiff of anything more than friendship between them. He wished he knew how Benedict managed it, living around the beautiful, brilliant, manic freak that was Cal Parker and not wanting him. Or killing him.
Maybe it was simply a matter of not liking men. Or that Cal didn’t want Benedict in that way. If he had…. Ray couldn’t imagine anyone refusing him for long.
Ray looked up, not lingering on Parker’s ass or thinking about Audrey Conti. Or himself.
“An accountant who studies magic who also handles Beings cases with the police!” Benedict had pulled out his wand and was using it to indicate imaginary bullet points. Now that could get dangerous. Ray twitched.
“Are you done?” he asked sweetly, and they both seemed to recall his presence. “And the ‘mystery’ only matters with humans, and I’m not.” That was the reason he’d been assigned to work with Penn—and why he ended up working with these two so much. “Now spill or get out.”
