He scrubbed his face. “Look, I just don’t want him here in case anything goes wrong.”
“No,” Deshi said, “He doesn’t want me to see him naked.”
Orin shot the Prince a glare, but with his face on fire it meant he was doing his impersonation of a stop sign, which totally killed the effect. Pissed, Orin shoved food in his mouth because he had to bite something.
Haley looked at him. “You’re embarrassed?
Orin: “No.”—Deshi: “Yes”
Orin threw out his hand. “Do you really want him in the way if something goes wrong? Neither one of you could possibly comprehend how bad things could get. This isn’t going to be a warm fuzzy spit swapping session. There is a very real possibility I could kill one or both of you!” The shakes seized Orin’s hands. When Haley reached for him he said, “Don’t.” She froze. “Just, let me…” He took a breath. “I’m okay.” But he wasn’t, he was scared. Pissed and scared. Orin crossed his arms and looked out the window. It was better than looking at Haley. He couldn’t stand the hurt in her face. Or Deshi, that was just a given on so many levels.
The room fell quiet except for reluctant sounds of eating. Eventually Orin’s hands quit shaking enough that he could feed himself without throwing everything onto the floor.
They ate and when most of the food had been decimated into scraps, the Jersey City Prince began to clean up. When Orin picked up his plate, the other Male took it from him and headed into the kitchen.
“What? You afraid I’m going to break it?” Deshi did not look up. Anger fired up in Orin’s chest and before he could stop himself he’d closed the distance between them. His hands locked on the Prince’s Italian jacket. He spun him away from the sink full of dishes and shoved his back into the cabinets. “I am not a goddamned Submissive. You will acknowledge me when I say something to you!”
Deshi’s eyes gleamed but he didn’t fight back, even when Orin jerked him up and slammed his back against the kitchen appliances. Distantly Orin heard Haley tell him to put Deshi down, but he couldn’t. He just kept screwing his hands up in all the fabric of Deshi’s jacket and smacking the Jersey City Prince’s shoulders against the wooden doors.
Haley came closer. “Back off, Orin.”
“I’m sick of him treating me like I’m not worth the same air he breathes.” Orin twisted the fancy Italian cloth in his fists until it burned his skin.
“Orin!” He glanced at Haley and the heat in her eyes took a little oomph out of his anger. Orin lowered the Prince until his expensive loafers touched the floor. He was prepared to let the Jersey City Prince go and step away, but then he had to open his mouth.
Deshi said just one word. “Arrogant.”
Orin’s sight slid away and his teeth punched down. He drew back his hand with every intention of landing a good one right in the Prince’s perfect little kisser. But instead he stood there with his fist curled, a deep growl rolling out of his chest. Deshi’s eyes were on his fist, his body totally calm, his face blank.
Orin gave him a hard shove and stepped back. “Yeah, you’d like me to hit you. Considering that’s the kind of thing that gets you off.” He forced his teeth back and blinked to clear his sight.
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Haley got in between them and shoved them farther apart. Well, shoved Orin farther apart. Deshi was as far as he could go with his back to the counter.
Great, thought Orin. Just great. He rubbed his mouth because his teeth were hurting, and moved even farther away. Haley tugged on Deshi’s clothes, trying to straighten out the damage he’d done to the fabric.
The Prince didn’t seem to notice. He pegged Orin with his baby blues. “Face it, Orin. All the Rage control in the world isn’t going help you if you can’t get control of your fear.”
Orin blinked and tried to ignore the ice forming in his veins. Haley’s eyes were dark and full of worry. Christ. He turned away and didn’t stop until he was in his room and the door was closed.
Chapter 41
Waking up in a strange place wasn’t anything new for Farley. But waking up cold, naked, and dripping wet was. Not so much the naked part, but the rest was something Farley purposely avoided.
He shivered and his teeth did some intermittent jack-hammering. It wasn’t easy for Farley to get his bearings, but then it never was when hanging upside down.
Dark green concrete walls, piss poor lighting. The room reminded him of the tank, only a bigger scarier version. Even with his body feeling jacked up on Novocain, Farley knew he wasn’t alone.
Lesser-Bred. And the fucker was starving.
“The numbness will go away. So will the headache.” A figure in the shadow moved forward. Darkness peeled back and a mismatched gaze hit Farley. One black eye—the color of magic, one gold—a hue and brightness that could only be born of the metaphysical. It had to be a trick of the light or some sort of sick practical joke. Farley kept blinking, hoping there was a punch line.
But then the man grinned, showing wicked white fangs, and the scent of magic flared. Metaphysics and Alchemy. That just didn’t happen.
Holy Shit! What he was looking at couldn’t be real.
“I’m not what you expected, am I?”
Fuck. No. Farley jerked against the bindings.
Roger Heikman was an Alchemist and Lesser-bred? It defied the laws of nature. Hell, the fucking universe. Like waking up and finding out the world was indeed flat and the sun went around the earth.
Total Twilight Zone.
Heikman said, “I don’t usually greet my guests like this, but since you’re with the Bureau I wanted our first meeting to be very memorable.”
So Paul Husley had squealed. Somehow it didn’t surprise Farley. “Fucking douche bag. Where is that asshole?”
“I fed him to Lor.”
That made Farley stop. For all of five seconds.
Heikman smiled. “You have to give Paul credit. He did try and warn you about me. Unfortunately for him he didn’t know I had his Hummer, his phone, and his house bugged for sound. When I got word he was going to flip on his associates, I had to protect my interests.”
Farley yanked against the chains again and something around his neck burned. The scent of alchemy made him gag and cough.
“Careful there, wyrm. The collar around your neck is a nasty little piece of work. I designed it myself before I went through the Shift. You flare too much heat and you’re going to find out what it feels like to be a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July.” The man put a hand on Farley’s leg and he had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming. Magic crawled from Heikman’s touch like ants.
“How can an Alchemist Shift?” Farley had no idea why he asked. Conversation. Something to take his mind off things? Fuck, maybe to take Heikman’s mind off touching him. No such luck. Heikman’s fingers dug into his calf, and with a yank, Farley went spinning. Since there was nothing he could do, Farley shut his eyes and waited for his body to lose momentum.
“The how’s and why’s aren’t important.”
Heikman became a line of metaphysical heat circling the room. When the spinning all but stopped Farley opened his eyes. Heikman stood at the edge of the shadows, adjusting the cuffs on his pinstriped jacket. The suit looked expensive. Not that Farley knew shit about clothes. But it reminded him of the kind of threads Deshi wore.
Another chill shook him.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let the cold kill you. No. You’re way too important.” Those eyes hit Farley and made his insides shrivel.
The Lesser-Bred moved in and Farley prayed he wasn’t going to dreidel him again, because he was pretty sure another go-round would make him puke up a lung.
Heikman gave his fancy slacks a little tug and squatted down. His manicured hand forced Farley’s head to turn. Heikman’s thumb made short up and down motions against Farley’s windpipe.
“You don’t know it yet, Farley, but you are very special. My only hope, in fact.” He leaned closer. His mouth opened and he inhale
d, drawing in his scent. “Mmm—better than I imagined.”
“I don’t understand.” And he didn’t. Because this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Get in, get out. Not, “I’m so pleased to see you.” Somehow all the happy the man was putting out made everything worse.
The Lesser-Bred slapped Farley’s cheek. “I’m a freak of the unnatural and natural. A combination of Alchemy and Metaphysics. Which you know is like mixing oil and water.”
No, it was more like Drano and gasoline, and just as toxic. With that kind of volatile combination in Heikman’s veins, the fact he was still breathing was a miracle in itself.
Farley tried to jerk away from the hand on his throat. “What the fuck does that have to do with me?”
Heikman smiled. “My…condition…is very rare. In all my research I’ve only found a single reference of it happening several centuries ago in France. Alchemy and Metaphysics are not meant to be together. The results are not conducive to one’s health.
“Through my research I discovered that by drawing on the metaphysics of a Female, I can slow the inevitable. But as you know Female Kin are very hard to come by. But a Male who is marked by one, although rare, is far more plausible. By using you, I can get the time I need to figure out how to stop the final stages.”
Going by the look in those mismatched eyes of his, Farley was pretty sure the words final stages could only mean something nasty.
Heikman said, “The deterioration started years ago, but I was able to maintain myself by injecting my picks with Female blood. But unfortunately my supplier met his untimely demise back in September, and Medan hasn’t been willing to sell me what I need.” Heikman shrugged. “When I heard the Senior Agent of the CFKR was on the war path over his granddaughter I figured I had my chance. I still had the agent’s phone I picked off the maintenance man several months back. I figured if anything would finally convince Garrett to send you to me undercover, it would be a message telling him his granddaughter was here.” He grinned. Farley did not like his grin. “And I was right.” He stood up. “Garrett gives himself too much credit. He does nothing that I don’t know about.”
“Where’s his granddaughter?” If there was still any chance of getting her out…
Heikman flashed him long wicked teeth. “I have no idea. I never had her. I simply heard she was missing and used it to my advantage. All I needed was a time frame, and I knew Garrett would get desperate enough to send you. Hope is like that, you know. It will make you leap before you look.”
The cold reality of it all sank into Farley’s bones. Everything had been a lie just to get him in here. And he’d fallen for it. Another sucker born. Heikman flicked something at the top of the chains and Farley spilled down onto the floor, his head smacking against the concrete hard enough to make stars.
Somewhere beyond the fireworks bursting in front of his eyes, Heikman said, “I hope this works, Farley. Really I do. You’re much too pretty to waste.”
Chapter 42
So much for a nice quiet lunch. After Orin shut the bedroom door, Haley looked at Deshi. “Are you okay?”
Beautiful Deshi’s gaze came down and softened. “Yeah.” He straightened his jacket. “I’m fine.”
Haley tipped her head at the closed door. “Do you mind telling me what that was all about?”
He shook his head. “It’s not important.”
“Well, obviously it is. I know you two aren’t exactly friendly, but don’t you think fighting is a little extreme? I mean, Males don’t normally fight.”
“I wasn’t doing any fighting.”
“No, but you were doing your best to push his buttons.”
Deshi sighed. “He’s afraid.”
“Yeah, well, it’s understandable.” Considering everything that had happened so far.
Deshi pushed off the counter. “Fear can’t be controlled, Haley, and that’s what Orin is trying to do. If this is going to work he’s got to come to terms with the idea.” The Prince ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll go apologize.” He turned but Haley caught his hand.
“You stay here. I’ll go talk to him.”
The Jersey City Prince smiled and gave her the barest nod.
Haley went to the door and stopped. She glanced back at Deshi. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves while the sink filled with hot water.
She knocked on the door. “Orin?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure, it’s open.”
Haley looked inside. Orin sat on the edge of the bed with his head between his shoulders and his elbows on his knees. Haley closed the door behind her but stayed next to the wall, giving him plenty of space.
She said, “You okay?”
He shook his head.
“You want to talk about it?”
His shoulders moved like maybe he was thinking about shrugging, then quit. Haley had to remind herself to stay where she was. Every instinct in her body fired off for to go and hold him, press her face in his neck, take his scent, offer comfort.
It was maddening.
Orin waved a hand, then rubbed his face. “I’m sorry about my behavior. If you two want me to get another room or whatever, I completely understand.” He shook his head. “Hell, I don’t even know why I’m here anyhow. I could just go home.”
“You’re here because home isn’t safe.” Haley inched closer, then caught herself. The truth of her words seemed to weigh down on his shoulders. “Orin, what are you afraid of?”
His head snapped up. She waited for him to deny it but he didn’t. He just stared, his green eyes way too dark and filled with terrible things.
“You can tell me.” And he could. She cared about him. Maybe as much as she cared about Farley and Deshi. Maybe in some ways, more. Once upon a time Haley would have reminded herself Kin couldn’t love, but not anymore. It might not have been love in the Human sense of the word, but it was something. It was powerful and it made her want to protect him and keep him safe.
Orin took a breath, opened his mouth then shut it. After a moment of rapid blinking he stood up, looking like he wanted to run. Only there was nowhere to go. Haley understood the feeling all too well. There were days when she felt exactly the same way.
After a long moment he said, “I don’t want to be a monster.” His eyes went wide like maybe didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“Is it the feeding?”
His shoulders heaved. “That’s part of it.”
“Then what’s the rest?” Because there had to be a whole lot more with the way his hearts were dragging on the floor.
“I don’t want…” Orin’s impossibly green gaze burned into hers. “Want…” He swallowed. “I don’t want you to see me like that.” He made a face. “I’m afraid after this you’ll never want to have anything to do with me again.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“Because…” He took another breath. “It’s horrible. And you shouldn’t have to see something horrible.”
She’d been impressed by Humans, raised outside the Dens. She could never really understand. That’s what his eyes said, because that’s what Farley’s eyes told her all the time.
Haley smiled and felt anything but happy. “Orin, I see horrible things every day.”
“Not like this.”
She gave a sigh and decided the hell with it and walked right up to him. He didn’t back away so she didn’t either. In front of Orin, this close, it took a lot of willpower not to touch him.
Haley sighed. “Monday, we had these two Submissives come into the Tank. They were new, really new. A bonded pair.” She blinked because her eyes burned. “Osa and Reiah.” God of Man, saying their names made her chest hurt. No wonder Kin didn’t speak of the dead. “They were beautiful.”
Orin’s hand touched her shoulder.
Haley took a breath and she cleared her throat. “There was this new cop doing guard duty down in the tank…Donald. Anyhow, I went in and talked to
them to try and find out how they got to Atlanta. They were hungry, scared, and they just wanted me to take care of them. So I went to get them something to eat…and…” Another breath. “Apparently Donald had been watching me do the interview and what he saw…upset him. They were so submissive.” Orin’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “He beat Reiah to death.” A drop of heat rolled down her cheek. “And Osa…he…I tried to get him to feed, I tried to…but he just died.” Haley brushed a thumb under her eye, but now that the crying had started it didn’t want to stop. “God of Man, I hate this.” She sniffled and wiped her hands across her face.
Orin made her stop by catching her hands. “Why?”
“Why what?” She sniffled and more tears soaked her cheeks.
“Why do you hate crying?” He stroked a thumb through the tears.
“Because it’s such a bother.”
“Most Kin can’t cry. Not really. Sometimes we shed tears but to really and truly cry, to feel the emotion?” He watched her with a strange kind of awe.
“Well, I’d give anything to not have to cry any more. I’m tired of crying. It’s exhausting.”
Orin smiled. “I feel the same way about blushing.”
Haley cracked a grin and sobbed at the same time. “I won’t hate you, Orin. No matter what, I won’t quit caring about you. You’re worried about me seeing awful things and no, I don’t like to see them. I hate to see anyone suffer. But the truth is, without it, we don’t see the good things. Bad things make the good things stand out and that’s what makes us who we are. If you didn’t have Serena’s RHage you might not be who you are.”
Orin’s brows came together and his mouth made a slash. “I hate what I am, Haley.” She opened her mouth but he put his finger over her lips. “Hear me out. It isn’t just the RHage. Yeah, that’s part of it. I mean…I hate what I am. That’s why I teach. When I’m standing there in front of all those Humans I feel like I’m finally free of what I am. They laugh, they envy, they cry, they have dreams, and hopes, and love… They get to make a choice about who they want to be. We don’t. We’re made, we kill, we eat… There’s nothing beautiful about that.” Orin shut his eyes for a moment. “I’d give anything to know what that’s like. To have a God. To have a soul. To really feel something besides need. To not live forever. To tell the truth, some days I wish I just wouldn’t wake up.”
City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood Page 33
