Lost Souls Found

by Kris T. Bethke

  Michael sat in the chair again but didn't let go of Sam's hand. "We date. We make love. You let me take care of you. And we agree on rules about what goes on at work."

  Sam cocked his head to the side and squinted. "What sort of rules?"

  "Well, I am still your boss. So the relationship would have to stay out of the office. I still have to have authority there. And you can't question me just because you think I'm being hard on you."

  Sam scowled. "Except you are."

  Michael gave a genuine smile at that. "And I would promise to do my best not to let personal feelings get mixed up with the professional ones." He leaned forward earnestly. "I won't lie and say it'll be easy, because it won't be. But the thought of you leaving was killing me even before last night. No way can I let you go now."

  Sam finally pulled away and stood up. He crossed to the other side of the kitchen and then turned back. He needed the space between them.

  "You sure as hell didn't show it. Gah." Sam scrubbed at his face. "You realize this is crap, right? I was ready to move on, and because I was, you're suddenly saying all the things you should have said years ago."

  "Yes, Sam. I realize I'm a total shit." Michael gave him a tiny smile. "I was convinced I was doing the right thing, that I was doing what was best for you. And you were all that mattered. But in my arrogance, I forgot to factor in one very important detail."

  Sam was wary. "What was that?"

  "You. That you know your own mind, your wants and desires, and I should have listened to you." Michael took a step forward but stopped when Sam held up a hand. "Can you forgive me? Is that even possible?"

  Sam's head hurt. His heart did too. It was everything he wanted--had been dreaming about for years--but once he had the opportunity actually to have it, it seemed too good to be true. He trusted Michael, so there was no doubt that everything he said was the absolute truth. But how could he know it wouldn't change again?

  "I don't know," Sam answered.

  Michael looked sad, but he nodded. He resumed his seat, but gazed at Sam imploringly. "How about this? Are you willing to put your transfer on hold? I won't ask you to take it off the table, and if you decide that's what you want, I'll push it through myself and pull every string I have to get you at the office you want to go to. But just put it on hold and give me a chance to show you, to make amends."

  Sam's heart pounded wildly, but he made himself speak. "This doesn't affect just me. Dom and Levi are involved too."

  Michael nodded. "I understand."

  Could he take a chance? Was it that simple? Maybe he owed it to himself to try.

  He skirted the edge of the kitchen, but he didn't come close to Michael because he knew if he touched him, he'd be lost. So he exited the kitchen and headed for the living room, where he'd left his phone the night before. It was almost out of battery, but he had enough to make the call.

  "Sammy? You okay?"

  He took a deep breath and was proud that his voice barely shook. "I know I begged you to transfer with me, but would you hate me if I asked if we could put that on hold for a little bit?"

  Dom was quiet for a long, tense moment. "I would never, could never, hate you, Sam. What happened?"

  There was so much to say, and he'd fill Dom in on everything when he could, but he didn't want to rehash it all--not with Michael sitting within earshot. And certainly not yet, when he was still holding on to last night and wanted to keep it to himself. So he gave Dom the pertinent details.

  "Michael came by last night to talk to me. And this morning, he asked me to stay, to wait on transferring."

  No one was as good at pregnant, tension-filled pauses as Dominic Larabee. Sam waited while Dom put the pieces together.

  "As in, he came over last night and is still there this morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Well. Shit."

  "Basically."

  More silence. Sam edged sideways to see Michael, who was sitting with his head in his hands, his shoulders tense.

  "If you want to wait a little while, see what happens, you know I'll support you. I'd never go anywhere without you."

  Sam smiled and relief flooded in. Knowing Dom had his back no matter what gave him confidence to move forward. "Thank you."

  "We're going to have a long discussion about this, you know." Dom's voice was stern, and Sam knew he wasn't joking.

  "I'm at your mercy."

  Dom chuckled. "Too right you are. And Sam?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Be careful, huh?"

  "Of course."

  He hung up, and his bare feet hardly made any noise as he walked softly into the kitchen. When he touched Michael's shoulder, he jerked, and then clasped Sam's hand in his own. His eyes were full of such hope and such worry that Sam ached to fix it.

  And he knew he could.

  "We can try," Sam said quietly. He pressed closer so his stomach was against Michael's side. "But this is your one chance, Michael King."

  Michael's smile was blinding. "You won't regret it."

  Sam sure as hell hoped not.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "TELL me about you."

  Michael blinked down at the back of Sam's head. He'd had a particularly difficult ghostwalk that day, emotionally, and it had been hard for Michael to walk out of the room once he pulled the sword from Sam's body. The moment all his ghostwalkers were clear, Michael had bundled Sam up and brought him home. Then he spread him out on his bed and proceeded to massage him until he was a pile of goo. Sam's decadent groans were his undoing, but more than that, he loved helping Sam unwind, relax, and recover from a difficult day.

  "Umm. What do you mean?"

  Sam pushed up, and Michael moved so he was no longer straddling Sam's ass. Sam turned over, stretched languidly, and sighed contentedly.

  "I mean, I know all these things about you, but do I really know you?"

  Michael smirked and then settled down on the bed beside Sam and turned so he could see Sam's profile. He reached out and traced one dark eyebrow.

  "What is it that you think you know?"

  Sam shot him a look that said "challenge accepted" and then fluffed the pillow behind his head so he was propped up.

  "I know you like blueberry muffins for breakfast and chocolate ice cream for dessert. I know you like classic rock, from the 70s especially, and that the bonsai tree in your office has taken you years to cultivate." His smile turned a little evil as he continued. "I know you're a stubborn shit who can't see what's right in front of your face. And that you're overbearing and demanding."

  Michael laughed and inclined his head. That much was definitely true. He slid a little closer, found Sam's hand, and played with his fingers as he kept talking.

  "I know you have the biggest damn heart and that your operatives are the most important thing to you, that you love taking care of people, and you're a little too serious sometimes, and that you fuck like a god."

  Then Michael really laughed, and he pounced and pinned Sam below him. They were both still wearing pants, and Michael still wore his shirt, but the quiet intimacy of just being together in Sam's bed was its own kind of magic. It had been less than a week since that fateful night, and Michael couldn't get enough of it. He didn't think he ever would.

  "Well that last thing is certainly true."

  Sam grinned, slid his hands up Michael's shoulders, and came to rest on the sides of his neck. "I've seen you interact with people for years, Michael. And everything I've seen has endeared you to me--except maybe the breaking-my-heart thing."

  Michael swallowed and opened his mouth, because he'd apologize a hundred times if he had to... a thousand. He'd say it over and over until Sam knew the truth of it down in his bones. But Sam didn't give him a chance. He pressed his fingers over Michael's lips so he knew not to speak.

  "You're pretty dang awesome. But I've really only seen you at work. Even when the department gets together outside of the office for parties or holidays or whatever, you're still partially in work mod
e. So I want to know the rest. I want to know you."

  Michael kissed him, slowly and sensually, and drew it out--not that he wanted Sam to forget his line of questioning, though that would have been a great bonus, but just because he needed to. As he devoured Sam's mouth, he opened his link, just a little bit, to allow some of Sam's thoughts to trickle in--genuine sincerity colored by a hefty dose of arousal. Michael grinned into the kiss and slammed the link shut. Then he rolled to the side and took Sam with him.

  "I read you, just now. Only a little."

  Sam looked surprised for a second, but not upset. "It's okay. I know you can and do on occasion."

  "Not with you." Michael huffed out a breath and tried to figure out how to put it into words. "To use my gift on someone I care about seems... like I have an unfair advantage, I guess? I'm fortunate to have this ability and grateful for it on occasion, but I try never to abuse it."

  Sam petted his hair. "I know."

  "Even at work, even with written consent, I only use it when it's absolutely necessary."

  "I am aware." Sam smiled softly.

  "And with you it seems like an even worse invasion of privacy. Always has, from the very beginning. I try never to use it. And I promise to always tell you when I have."

  Sam blinked and then leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. "Thank you for that." Sam kissed him again and settled in against his chest. "But you still have to tell me something."

  "Okay, fine. Like what?"

  Sam shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Like, oh, how'd you end up at the Duncan Moor branch?"

  "It was the branch that needed a Guardian that was farthest away from home."

  Sam's body jerked, and when he slowly lifted his head, Michael saw the shock all over his pretty features. Sam opened his mouth, made an aborted sound, and pursed his lips. Michael fought not to laugh. He knew he'd surprised Sam with that one.

  "You want to tell me about that, then?"

  Michael loved that Sam asked. So he nodded and settled in a little more comfortably. He rubbed gently along Sam's back, reveling in the feeling of skin. He should have taken off his own shirt so he could feel Sam all over, but that would lead to other things.

  "Michael?"

  "It's not that big of a deal." Michael cut himself off and reevaluated. No, it was a big deal. He just always pretended it wasn't. "Well, yes it is. See, my grandmother was an anchor--one of the best, out of the Seattle branch. And as my mother grew up, all she ever wanted was to be an anchor. That was her entire dream."

  Sam's eyes darkened. "Uh-oh."

  "You said it." Michael wasn't surprised Sam had already caught on. "When she was tested, she didn't have the gene. Didn't stop her from becoming an anchor, but she was disappointed. And then I was born, and I tested positive."

  Michael had to stop and take a breath, because that was the hard part, the part he'd never said out loud before. But he wanted Sam to know him, to believe in his sincerity, and that meant sharing the dark parts as well as the good.

  "Do you have any idea how hard it is to deal with your mother being jealous of you?" Michael swallowed and pulled Sam in a lot closer. "I know you and Blake had it rough, that your parents basically cast you aside as soon as Blake came back to life that first time. So I think you understand a little. Living with her snide comments--"

  "Had to be worse," Sam murmured. "It sounds easier to be ignored."

  "I don't know if it would have been. But it only got worse when I started developing the telepathy--when it became clear I was not just an anchor, but a Guardian. So the minute I could, I took an assignment as far away as possible."

  "Aw, Michael." Sam wrapped himself even more tightly around Michael and squeezed with his arms and legs. "Well, that just sucks, huh?"

  Michael laughed because that's what Sam wanted. "Yep. It does. I'm okay about it, but it was, hell, fifteen years ago now. And we don't talk all that often, so it wasn't hard to move."

  "Mmm. But I know a part of you never moves on. Ask me how I know?"

  Michael knew, so he just held Sam tightly as they breathed each other in. After a while Sam shifted so he could look Michael in the eye.

  "What about friends?"

  Michael feigned ignorance. "What about them?"

  Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Is there anyone you're close with?"

  "Yeah. You. Right now." Michael rolled them over and pressed Sam into the mattress. "I'm really close with you right now."

  Sam let out a soft groan that trailed off into a laugh. "No one is going to believe me when I tell them you have a playful side."

  "There are a few people, but not many," Michael answered the question.

  Sam perked up. "Can I meet them?"

  "Well," Michael hedged. "You already know Avery."

  Sam's brow creased, and then his face brightened. "Wagner? The guy who came to help Blake out at the beginning of the year?"

  Michael nodded, and Sam grinned.

  "He's a nice guy. I like him. But what about the others? Are they local? Or do they live elsewhere like Avery?"

  Michael hesitated to answer, pretty sure he knew how Sam would react. And they were so cozy right then, surrounded by soft pillows, blankets, and each other, that Michael didn't want to disturb it. But the longer he didn't answer, the more Sam worried. It was all over his expressive face.

  "Michael? Why don't you want me to meet your friends?"

  "It's not that I don't want you to meet them," he began, but then he stuttered out. Sam's frown deepened.

  "Then what is it, then? Because from where I'm standing--lying underneath you--it seems like you don't want to introduce me to people. That's not what you mean, right? You wouldn't be trying to hide me, would you?"

  Michael groaned, rolled to the side, and covered his face with his hands.

  "They're all ex-lovers."

  Sam made a noise and then reached up and pulled Michael's hands down. He was still frowning, but the glint in his eye belied his true emotion. Michael would bet Sam had heard him just fine.

  "What was that? I didn't catch what you said."

  Little shit was going to make him say it out loud. Fine. He blew out a breath and raised his gaze to the ceiling as he very slowly and clearly said, "They are all ex-lovers."

  Sam sat up and made a show of schooling his features. "Let me get this straight. Everyone you're close to is someone you used to sleep with?"

  "Yes," Michael mumbled.

  He cocked his head to the side. "Even Avery?"

  "No, not Avery. He was with Luke." And after Luke died, Avery had been so devastated by the loss of his bonded that he still hadn't taken another lover.

  "But if he hadn't been?"

  Why was he pushing it? Michael wanted to get out of the conversation, but he couldn't--shouldn't. It was important. "I don't know. Maybe? Avery is adorable. But he's also a pretentious shit, so I don't know. Why?"

  "Just trying to figure you out." Sam shrugged, and Michael glanced at him. He didn't look upset, though Michael had the urge to check Sam's thoughts, just to be sure. But that was cheating. And hadn't he just told Sam he wouldn't read him?

  "Things haven't always ended badly, for all that they were tired of my hovering, overbearing possessiveness. So there are a few I still count as my closest friends."

  "Men? Women?"

  "Some of each." Michael would be honest. "And in Triana's case, both, because she didn't come to terms with herself and transition until after we parted ways."

  Sam went quiet and dropped his gaze to his hands, where he was playing with the sheet. Twist, untwist, roll, unroll. Michael watched him for several long minutes and then placed a hand over Sam's fidgeting ones.

  "What's going on in your head?"

  "It's kind of a stark reminder, you know? That you could choose anyone. You have the whole world of choices. Literally."

  Michael's stomach bottomed out. "Is this going to be a problem?"

  Sam's gaze shot to his. "No. I mean, no, of
course not. The romantic in me loves that you fall in love with a person, not their gender or orientation or whatever. But... it's going to take me a little bit to work it all out in my head. I'm sorry."

  Michael used his hold to pull Sam to him. "No reason to be sorry. Just remember one thing. Okay?" Michael paused and waited until Sam nodded against his chest. "Remember that I choose you. Okay? It may have taken me a while because I'm clearly an idiot, but I choose you."

  Sam relaxed, and his body became pliant. Michael could feel the smile as he pressed his lips to Sam's throat.

  "I choose you too."

  MICHAEL waited impatiently for his phone to ring. He'd pulled everyone else back hours earlier, but not Sam. Of course not Sam. He'd been in the spirit plane for almost six hours. Michael glanced at the clock--five hours and seventeen minutes, to be exact. The waiting was killing him, and his nerves jangled in his gut.

  It was the longest Sam had been gone since they'd become... them. And Michael couldn't handle the waiting. He'd done it hundreds of times before, maybe even thousands. But it was different now.

  It wasn't supposed to be. He'd sworn to Sam that it wouldn't be. But it was. He was intimately connected to Sam's care, and every minute he spent in the spirit plane was a minute that he should be breathing and living and smiling. Every minute increased the likelihood that he would need to be yanked back.

  Get it together, King.

  He took a long slow breath, did it again and again, and kept doing it until he felt a modicum of calm. He managed to pass another twenty-five minutes that way, breathing and pretending he wasn't worried.

  When his phone finally rang, he answered it as he sprinted to the door.

  "He's ready, King." Alli's voice was bright and cheerful, and Michael had to wonder if she knew how much he was freaking out. She wasn't usually so pleasant, and that would be the sort of thing she would do, just to needle at him.

  "Thanks," he bit out.

  He all but burst in the door, and he startled Dom, but he couldn't even be sorry. Dom moved with care and reached for the pads, and Michael bit the inside of his cheek to keep from shouting at him to hurry up.