by Zoe Perdita
Yeah. That sounded like murder. Ken needed a drink – something to get the damn grit out of his mouth – but he wasn’t about to move toward the kitchen with a potential killer in his home.
“What else?” Davis asked and winced. He wasn’t hiding the bruise on his side, and Fei glanced at it for a long moment before he spoke again.
“Did they attack you for turning down their prostitute or because of your sexual orientation?” Fei asked and nodded toward the marks on Davis’s body.
“The second one, I think. Does it matter? They tried to kill me,” Davis said and leaned against the wall. He looked dead on his feet, but Ken doubted he’d sit in front of the tiger.
Ken’s gut clenched. “Wait. You told me they attacked you because of the hooker. How would they know if you were gay or not unless—”
“I told them I had a male mate,” Davis said, cutting Ken off. He ran his fingers through his hair. It served to upset it more than it fixed anything. It already stood up all over his head. He smiled and it pinched his eyes and the corners of his mouth. It was the sort of smile that said he was sorry a thousand times over, and Ken would’ve kissed him if they didn’t have a damn tiger watching them.
“That’s what Mikhail suspected,” Fei ground out and nudged the bag with the toe of his oxford. They were patent leather. Italian. Way more expensive than anything Ken could afford, and his shoes weren’t cheap. “He rescued your things off the pier. A leather jacket and a shirt. Boots. The pants were shredded. He found your phone with the prostitute. It’s all here.” Neither Ken nor Davis moved toward the bag, so Fei continued. “The first game is Wednesday night. Mikhail got you an invitation. All you have to do is show up. Jin provided you with a burner cell. It has a camera as well. If you get a chance, take pictures of their place. Look for the drugs. You’ll have one more chance after this to get in.”
“Do I have to win?” Davis asked, his voice strained.
That stupid dimple deepened. “Yes. This is a preliminary game to get to the finals. That’s where the real money is. Dmitri is playing. Beyond that, you’re on your own. For your sake, I hope you can pull this off. Good luck.”
Ken’s blood froze.
He watched Fei let himself out, then hurried to the door and turned the lock, as if that would keep them safe.
They weren’t safe. Not with this hanging over their heads. They wouldn’t be safe until it was over.
When Ken turned around, he noticed Davis sagged against the wall. His legs wobbled and his chest heaved.
“Come on,” Ken said and rushed toward him.
Davis smelled like the night before, and Ken helped him into the bathroom.
“You didn’t wake me,” Davis said when Ken started a bath.
“You needed your sleep,” Ken countered, adjusting the water. The tub wasn’t extravagant, by any means, but Davis fit. “Get in. The hot water will do you good.”
“Yes, dear,” Davis drawled and eased into the bath. Somehow, he managed to snag Ken’s hand along the way. He kissed the palm, and Ken swore he flushed from the tips of his ears to his toes. “Thank you.”
“Of course. You’re hurt,” Ken said lamely and his fingers curled to stroke Davis’s cheek.
It was Davis’s turn to look embarrassed. His brown eyes fell to his lap, though he still held Ken’s hand. “Are you alright?”
Ken blinked. Steam filled the room as the hot water rose. “Yes.”
“I mean after last night. I didn’t, uh, hurt you, did I?”
Oh. That’s what he meant.
Ken licked his lips. Not that it did any good since he was out of saliva. “I said I could handle it,” he murmured at the same time Davis said, “I never wanted to hurt you.”
Ken squeezed his eyes shut. This is what Davis was best at. Convincing him of things he didn’t need convincing of. Guilting him into forgiveness when he’d be happier to just forget about everything. Live in the moment between the two emotions until Davis broke him all over again. “You didn’t want to, but you did. Or I let you. It doesn’t matter now.”
“I think it does,” Davis said and released Ken’s hand. “Because it matters to you.”
Ken took a breath and stood. “I’ll make breakfast. We can practice your game afterwards. You need to win. That's more important than anything else right now.”
Which was true. More important than them (if there even was a them, and Ken wasn’t convinced of that yet). More important than any amount of forgiveness he could offer.
“I think you and Ty’s safety is more important than me winning, but it’s what I have to do to ensure that.” It was the most alpha-like thing Davis had ever said in his life.
Ken shook his head. His heart beat so quickly it might leap out and dance across the floor. “Winning is important. If you die, I’ll never forgive you.”
“And I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. We’re—”
“We’re friends. Maybe you’ll be our alpha someday, if you want that responsibility. For now, let’s leave it at that,” Ken said and slipped out before Davis could say something else.
Before he confessed feelings Ken wasn’t sure were really his. If Davis meant them, he’d have a chance to say them again at some point.
Now, Ken needed to get busy doing what he’d promised: helping Davis appease Jin Yue.
Davis taught him to play seka the week before, but Ken hadn’t paid much attention. He’d been distracted by his own racing thoughts and avoided looking at Davis for fear he’d do something stupid again. Now that he’d done the dumbest thing possible, it was easier to learn the game.
In truth, Ken hadn’t gambled with Davis since Vegas, and that was in the casino. Ken wasn’t sober for most of it. Watching Davis play cards gave him a new appreciation of his friend’s talents. No matter how much Ken tried to read Davis and figure out what cards the alpha held, Ken couldn’t do it.
It’s like the Davis he knew turned into another wolf. A calmness settled over him. A detachment. Or maybe it was a mask. Yeah, that was more like it. And the mask sounded like Davis. It had every familiar Davis quality, but they were all part of an act to fool his opponent. Even the glint in his eyes changed. Only someone who knew Davis as well as Ken probably noticed it.
Davis also won almost every damn round. The times Ken won were due to luck and not any talent on his part.
Ken, who wasn’t competitive in the least, put his last hand down with a sigh. “There. I lose. Again. And I tried not to give away anything.”
Davis grinned, his lopsided smile gentle. This was real Davis and not gambler Davis. “You move your tongue over your teeth when you have a bad hand. I don’t know how you can suppress one tell and just move on to another.”
Ken stretched his back and shrugged. “I don’t know how you can be that aware of your body all the time.”
The only time Ken was aware of his body was when he was close to Davis. Then he was overly aware of both of them. Like now. He stood up and moved to the kitchen.
“It takes practice, and I’ve had years of it,” Davis said and leaned back.
Ken felt Davis’s gaze on him. It moved over him. Watched him with an unasked question in his eye. Ken wanted to keep it that way, at least for the moment. “Too bad you weren’t playing seka this whole time. If I’m not part of the game, who am I supposed to be?”
“My mate,” Davis said. He smiled when Ken glanced at him. Smiled like he meant it. As if it wasn’t part of their ruse but how he really felt.
Ken swallowed and grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf. He didn’t have anything to say to that.
By the time Wednesday rolled around, Davis’s wounds had healed to the point he no longer flinched whenever he moved. Ken helped with the salve on a daily basis.
Davis never managed to make it to the couch at night. He ended up in Ken’s bed, long legs brushing Ken’s hips and nude flesh slipping over Ken’s side. It left Ken weak in every way, and his bed now smelled distinctly of Dav
is.
And sex.
Though, they hadn’t done anything involving penetration again. Kissing, touching and sucking all worked just as well.
Maybe Davis was waiting on Ken to give the okay. Or he didn’t like it as much as he’d seemed to. Ken wasn’t about to ask. Another broken heart wouldn’t help him do what he needed to do in order to save all their lives.
That evening, as they got ready for the game, Ken dabbed the last of the salve on Davis’s bruises, and Davis took a slight breath. Thankfully, he wore underwear so Ken wasn’t tempted to grab him.
Well, the bulge tempted him, but it was easier to keep in check.
“You don’t have a suit,” Ken said as he washed the astringent goop from his hands. It tingled on them, and the sharp scent stung his nose.
“Do I need one?” Davis asked and raised a brow. He’d finally shaved for the occasion after letting his cheeks get rough over the last several days.
Ken threw on his dress shirt and tucked it into his slacks. “James Bond wears a suit when he participates in gambling tournaments.”
Davis chuckled and pulled a T-shirt over his head. “Yeah, and he was playing baccarat at a fancy casino in Monaco. We’re playing seka with a rogue faction of the Russian mob. Sort of different.”
“Well, you could’ve borrowed one from Tyler, just to look the part,” Ken said.
Davis stopped what he was doing and stared at Ken. Whatever happened between the two brothers the other day, Davis hadn’t said. “Ty has a suit?”
Ken nodded. “He needed it for court appearances. It wasn’t cheap either.” Shit. Ken bit his lip at the last part, but Davis’s jaw tightened all the same. Ken really wasn’t trying to put Davis on a guilt trip, but thoughtless things fell out of his mouth. He changed the subject as he draped a tie around his neck. It was pale blue and matched his eyes. “Did you ever play baccarat in Monaco?”
The words left his lips before he could stop them. Besides the sparse details Davis gave (few and very far between), Ken had no idea what Davis had been up to since he left because Davis didn’t talk about it. He moved around a lot. Got in all sorts of trouble, which wasn’t a surprise, and Ken told himself he didn’t care. He didn’t need to know.
However, his heart told him something different.
Davis snorted. “Yeah. Right. Closest I came to that was an underground poker game at a Miami resort. I’m pretty sure more whores were there than in Monaco and not so well disguised.”
Ken focused on his tie and not the way Davis slipped on those jeans. How the T-shirt fit over his chest and hugged his arms. Or how those arms felt so right when they were wrapped around him.
“Hey. You look great,” Davis said behind him. His hair stood on end, and he brushed his fingers through it like that might help.
It didn’t.
“Thanks. Do you ever brush it?”
“Why should I brush it when it looks so good naturally?” Davis asked, his lips quirked. At least he didn’t look like a damn wounded animal anymore.
“No, it looks like you’re a lazy ass who couldn’t be bothered.”
“Fine! I can take a hint.”
“It wasn’t a hint,” Ken said and shrugged on his suit jacket.
Davis made quick work of his hair. By the time he was done it looked presentable enough for public scrutiny.
Ken didn’t feel like driving his car to the seka tournament since it wasn’t on the best side of town, so they opted for a cab. Plus, it meant if they disappeared, at least a third party saw them last, an unpleasant thought all around. The cab smelled like Lysol with an undercurrent of human, and Ken tried not to breathe through his nose.
Davis’s fingers twitched toward Ken’s across the pleather seat. Slowly, they crept around Ken’s palm and squeezed. “Why didn’t you join that alpha’s pack?”
“Who?” Ken asked and wondered if his palms felt clammy in Davis’s grip. He wanted to wipe them on his slacks, but that meant he’d have to move. Out of the question.
“What’s his name—Felan Cage? He said he offered to let you two join him, and you didn’t. Why?” Davis asked.
The cabbie was human and listened to the radio, so he probably couldn’t hear them. Still, Ken kept his voice low. Pretty clever of Davis to trap Ken in a car in order to ask him this.
He took a deep breath and wished he hadn’t. “It wasn’t our pack. He has his own wolves to worry about. We didn’t want to crowd him,” Ken whispered.
“Yeah. Makes sense,” Davis said and smiled.
He always smiled.
Even if it hurt, and Ken figured that had to hurt. And Ken said it because he was an ass sometimes without even thinking about it. Dammit!
“No. That’s not it. We—We were waiting for you to come back. Tyler and I decided we wouldn’t join another pack if you weren’t part of it.”
The smile Davis gave him was just as pained, but he nodded. “I’m here now.”
“I know,” Ken breathed. He did know, but it took time to convince his heart Davis wasn’t going to leave again.
They rode the rest of the way in silence.
When the cab pulled to a dingy warehouse on the river, Ken wasn’t sure they were at the proper place, but the man drove off before they could ask.
Davis wrinkled his nose and frowned at the black water. The rush of it drowned out Ken’s pounding heart. It stank like Davis had after his swim– of fish and other distinctly unpleasant odors.
A few boats bobbed next to the pier, and the warehouse stood at the edge, made out of aluminum siding. The windows were lit up dimly, but no one stood outside.
Ken felt ridiculously overdressed. Perhaps he should’ve opted for jeans and a T-shirt too.
Too late now.
Then Davis leaned down and kissed his cheek, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and pulled Ken toward the warehouse. “No welcome party, so I guess we have to knock.”
Their steps rang on the wood: tap, thud, tap, thud, and it matched the sensation in Ken’s chest. As they reached the door, it slid open silently.
Ken squared his shoulders and fought not to touch the pocket that hid the small burner phone. That would be the biggest tell in the world. One that could get them both killed.
A hulking bear glowered at them, his brows thick and his eyes small and beady. He grumbled something that Ken didn’t understand, but Davis seemed to get the gist because he pulled the invitation out of his jacket pocket and held it out.
“Dmitri can vouch for me. He here yet?” Davis asked and peeked past the guard.
The bear grunted and shoved the paper back into Davis’s hands. Then he motioned them both inside. As the door clanged shut behind them, Ken tried not to flinch. He needed to look cool and act calm. Definitely not give away they were sent undercover to discover drugs.
Then Davis brushed his fingers, and it was enough to shake Ken out of his stupor.
The faint sound of voices rang between the crates piled on either side of them. Ken kept his head forward, though he glanced from side to side with just his eyes. None of the boxes said ‘illegal narcotics’ but they probably wouldn’t.
When they cleared the maze, it deposited them into a wide open area toward the middle of the warehouse. Crates blocked the windows, and there were only two exits.
The area was filled with tables and chairs set up for the games.
Unlike Ken himself, Davis didn’t bristle around the edges with nervous energy. He stepped easily and nodded at the players who’d already gathered, a mixture of men and women, mostly shifters but for the occasional magic user. All shadow folk. That was a plus. At least they could shift if need be.
Ken hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Hey! Dmitri. I heard you’d be here,” Davis said to a bear hunched over one of the tables.
A lit cigarette dangled from the man’s lips, and when he saw Davis he merely nodded.
So much for having friends here, but that never stopped Davis in the past.
/>
Ken felt himself sink against the crates as Davis moved through the crowd with easy grace. It was the same in high school. Ken stuck with his group of friends, while Davis flitted from group to group. He was just as comfortable around the jocks as he was with the punk feminists. Ken envied that ability now more than ever.
He’d gotten along fine in college and his adult life. He could be distantly polite to everyone, if need be. But he couldn’t put a smile on other people’s faces the way Davis could. Make them feel completely at ease. Davis did a good job of that now.
He talked to anyone who’d listen. It was all inane chatter about the games and the weather lately. Snow was on the forecast for the weekend, and everyone knew what happened to Haven in the snow.
When it was time for the games to start, Ken watched Davis trade in his cash for chips. He’d talked Davis out of bringing everything he had left (close to ten grand). He prepared himself for an argument and got Davis’s docile acceptance instead. Davis only brought half of that, but Ken flinched as Davis gathered up the black pieces of plastic. It looked like such a small pile, and he needed to win so much more to appease Jin.
The players settled at the tables, and Ken stayed on the outskirts, watching. It’s what they’d planned over the last few days. Once the games were well underway, and Davis won several times, Ken would try to find the bathroom and hopefully discover the drugs instead.
Observing others play seka wasn’t that interesting since Ken couldn’t see Davis’s cards. And he had no idea what Davis was thinking with his weird tells.
Ken bided his time.
Finally, Davis’s pile of chips was larger than the other players at his table, and all the individual winners were condensed.
So that’s how they did it.
Ken licked his lips, and wished for something to drink. The warehouse wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t overly cold either. The heater banged every time it started, and Ken thought the bill must be astronomical for such a large space.
What started out as twenty tables of players with four players each, decreased to four tables in a matter of hours. The finale called for the remaining four to face each other, so Davis had to make it that far.
