Immortal Seduction

Immortal Seduction by ME Monte

Torquere Press www.torquerepress.com

Copyright ©2008 by ME Monte First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2008 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Epilogue ****

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Chapter One "The Chief just called for a collective meeting. Each unit's attendance is mandatory." Darren Cox tried to ignore the voice of his young, overexcited partner and focus on completing the paperwork from their last assignment, but it was a difficult task when the object of his irritation was leaning one slender hip on the only open space on his cluttered desk. He stubbornly tried to avoid eye contact in the hopes that the kid would be able to read his body language for once. "It must be something important if the Chief wants everyone there, don't ya think?" Darren sighed and rubbed his weary eyes. He had been focusing on his latest report for close to three hours without a break. Having been dead for over a decade now, he did have the advantage of not needing to eat, sleep, or use the bathroom. The disadvantage was he couldn't use any of those bodily functions to escape the annoying, male teenage presence that was devoid of the knowledge of personal space. He had been partnered with Tanner Simms for a little over a month now, had gone on ten assignments with the kid, and had been unable to convey his full dislike to the cheerful nuisance. It usually only took a week for his partners to take the hint and quit trying to befriend him. In another week they usually requested a transfer out of his department into another in the Agency. For the life of him, ha-ha, he couldn't figure out what made Tanner such a slow learner. He wasn't 4

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treating the guy with any more warmth than his twelve previous partners, and yet the nuisance followed him around like a puppy, practically worshipping every foul word that left his mouth. "I have an idea, Brat. Why don't you shut up and wait for the Chief to explain what's going on when we get to the meeting?" Darren barked in his best pissed-off voice. It didn't take much, considering his voice was gravelly from not being used in hours. Usually his rudeness would end any conversation and result in the person getting angry and storming off or retreating into a hurt silence. Tanner did neither of these things. He smiled and continued to swing his legs and perch on his senior partner's desk. "Sure, he'll explain, but it's fun to try to figure out the mystery before he comes out and tells us. Maybe this time we'll need to retrieve the soul of a lounge lizard who died before confessing his love to a certain senorita. He might be standing below her balcony right now, serenading her with his ghostly ballads. Or it could be a drug dealer who died before delivering his last big shipment and fleeing to safety across the Mexican border. Maybe we'll even get caught in the crossfire—" Darren pushed away from his desk and stormed toward his supervisor's office without looking back to see if his young partner was following. He bet the kid was still rambling on, even though there was no longer an audience. Darren often heard Tanner talking to himself as he wandered around the office, performing whatever menial duties had been assigned 5

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to him. It was a good thing the kid was already dead, because he would rather talk than live. The plaque on the Chief's door read, "Malcolm Reed, Retriever Division Supervisor, Agency of Afterlife Activity." Darren opened the heavy metal door to find the rest of his division operatives seated around the Chief's desk, apparently waiting for him and Tanner. His partner sauntered in right behind him and flounced into a chair with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Told you I could get him in here in less than five minutes." Darren was about to verbally abuse that gloating look off his partner's face when his boss stepped in to save Tanner's hide. "Don't blow a gasket, Cox. I sent Simms to bring you in to the meeting, using whatever methods he deemed necessary. I know how hard it is for you to pull yourself away from a report that's almost complete." "Next time you can just shoot me to get my attention. It'll be less painful." Tanner tossed him an unaffected grin and ignored the insult. Damn him. Even though the members of the Retriever Division were no longer alive, acts of violence toward them still triggered residual feelings of pain that it took many years to overcome. It took more time to forget what it was like for your body to feel pain than it did to forget cravings for forms of sustenance. Those ghosts who had been dead a long time forgot how it felt to hurt, but no one in the room besides 6

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Darren qualified for such a status. There were things that could truly damage them, even in their undead form, but these forms of dark voodoo were not practiced by most of the ghosts they were sent to retrieve. "All right, settle down. I called you all here because I've gotten word of a dangerous assignment that I didn't feel right about just sticking a unit with. I'm going to lay it out for you and see if any group is willing to volunteer." That got Darren's undivided attention. The Chief was a fair man, but he wasn't a soft one. He didn't believe in coddling his subordinates, not even Tanner, who at nineteen was the baby of their division. If Reed thought this assignment was going to be tough, it meant there must be black magic involved. Darren glanced over at his partner to see if Tanner was picking up on the ominous undertones of the Chief's announcement, but read only open curiosity on the young face. The kid was too stupid and inexperienced to be afraid, while Darren was too weary and jaded not to expect it. He glanced around the room at the other four operatives who made up their department, scanning their expressions for signs of their thoughts. There were only three units in the Retriever Division, and each unit was composed of a pair of operatives. He and Tanner made up unit one, the Hawk Unit, while a second unit, codename Borreal, contained a blonde ditz called Chandra Daley and a chemistry nerd named Bennet Hollinger. The last unit, codename Elf, consisted of a former playboy who had partied himself to death, Steven 7

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Carlisle, and a meek Asian flower, Sakura Mihato. Each unit was named after a type of owl, the nocturnal birds of prey. "Will the unit that volunteers be awarded an extended vacation leave once the assignment is completed?" Steven asked in his whiny, white, rich voice. "Maybe you should wait to hear the assignment before you start asking for perks." Darren loved hearing the Chief shut down the vapid playboy with his authoritative, no-nonsense voice. Standing at over six feet tall, and nearly as broad as he was high, their supervisor was an intimidating African-American male. Before he was killed in the line of duty, he had served as precinct lieutenant police department in one of the slum neighborhoods of New York. He was used to keeping misfits a lot more challenging than Carlisle in line. "Well, don't drag out the suspense, Chief. What's the assignment?" Chandra rasped in her phone sex voice. Dying in a freak liposuction accident had not changed the way she used her former supermodel body and call girl voice to wrap men around her bony fingers. The only feelings she evoked in Darren were disgust. If only he could say the same for Tanner. He had only recently begun to notice a change in his attitude toward Tanner. The kid still pissed him off, and he still treated Tanner like crap, but the reason for his aggression was evolving. In the beginning the kid's chattering and infallible cheer had been more than enough reason for verbal abuse, but as their days together marched on, Darren began to notice new things that pissed him off. Tanner's eyes, 8

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which were far too large, blue, and long-lashed for a guy, made him angry. His partner's full lips, which were rosy and bowed on the top, practically begged for fists to crash into them. Then there was Tanner's compact little body, which was a huge distraction and could send him into a fit of temper without warning. Half the time he wanted to physically assault the brat, and the other half of the time Darren wanted to throw Tanner down on the nearest available surface and fuck his brains out. Darren did the same thing he always did with these disturbing thoughts that were popping up in his mind more and more often. He buried them beneath a mountain of anger and a bad attitude. He had not been a homosexual while he was alive, and he sure as hell was not going to be one after death. "There's a very dangerous ghost on the loose. No surprise there, since it is your job to retrieve ghosts with unfinished business and send them back across the Veil. This ghost, however, is more harmful than most. When he was alive, he was a bank teller by day and a serial killer by night. He killed his victims in satanic rituals that required the draining of their blood, but he did it on church altars. His killings were an unprecedented combination of the religious and the arcane, and the FBI was never able to come up with a set profile to catch the guy when he was alive. He died before abducting his last intended victim for sacrifice, and so his soul has been sighted wandering around her property, still waiting for its moment to strike. It wasn't until after his untimely death that the FBI was finally able to connect this serial killer with his 9

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crimes, due to paraphernalia from the murders being found in his house during the investigation. Fortunately from their end, his death meant the end of a gruesome crime spree. For us, it means the work is just beginning." "How'd he die?" Tanner interrupted, a look of awed excitement on his face. Darren could just imagine the kid's young, warped mind filling in all the unknown, gory details. "He was killed by a carbon monoxide leak in his home. A pretty anti-climactic end for such a violent man." The disappointed look on Tanner's face said that he agreed. "Let me guess. Those satanic rituals you mentioned, they were the kind that evoked the power of demon spirits," Darren interjected with bitter certainty. Reed nodded, a serious expression on his angled face. Some of the operatives in their division claimed that Reed was clairvoyant, that he could see moments of the future before they happened. Darren didn't know if it was a result of this unusual ability, or from working together for so long, but his supervisor didn't seem surprised that this question came from him. "That's right. He called on the type of hungry demons who devour souls, either from the living or the dead, in return for powers that he is still relying on from beyond the grave. Whoever takes this case will be facing some dark magic of the fiercest kind. What do you think now, Carlisle?" The Chief's face broke into an evil smile as he pinned the vocal pretty boy with an obviously rhetorical question. There was no way Carlisle was ready for this kind of assignment. He 10

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had never been up against a demon before, and would probably piss all over his designer jeans if he had to. Darren was the only operative in the room who had faced off against demonic powers and won. Demons were a tricky lot. They were the upper-class servants of the Devil, those given the power to cross over into the land of the living and interfere with humanity. The only way to get rid of them was to revoke their permission to cross over, which could only be done through knowledge of the ancient revoking rituals. It was also possible to bypass trapping a demon back in hell by killing them, but that was a near impossible task since you would need to know the demon's name, a secret each monster carefully guarded when they came above. It looked like there was not much choice in whether Darren took the case or not. Unless he wanted a serial killer to continue getting his jollies off of butchering innocent women, he was going to take the case. To his surprise, before he could voice his acceptance, he heard Tanner's excited words. "Darren and I will take the case. He has the most experience, and I want a chance to take down a demon. I know we can do it." The Chief looked as surprised as Darren felt to have such an eager volunteer. Darren was going to accept the assignment out of obligation, but he damned sure was not going to be so happy about it. Tanner seemed to remember his partner in time to make eye contact with a blush and a sheepish expression. "If that's okay with Darren, of course." 11

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Being the senior member of their unit meant Darren had the final say in whether they accepted the mission or not. He remained silent for a minute, and pretended to consider the mission while Tanner squirmed in his seat with agitated impatience. That was his one weapon that always worked against his young, energetic partner. All he had to do was draw a situation out. Tanner was a true child of the digital age, a multi-tasker at heart, and could not stand to wait. "We accept." Tanner flashed the Chief a huge smile that had "I told you so" written all over it. Darren tried not to groan as he anticipated the never-ending questions his partner would bombard him with about demons as soon as they left this office. "Excellent. I'll have the file on your desk tomorrow morning. Until then, enjoy some free time, Unit Hawk. Units Borreal and Elf, return to your previous duties." The Chief's knowing smile communicated that he was not surprised at the outcome of this meeting. The bastard probably did have a sixth sense; like he needed another advantage. "How about some free time for us, too, Chief?" Steven asked with a hopeful grin. His perfectly-tanned skin was oozing charm in an attempt to get out of work, his favorite pastime. "How about I add a few more cases to your work load?" Reed threatened in a good-natured voice. He was used to Steven's futile attempts at laziness, and was obviously not surprised by this most recent one. 12

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Steven's partner Sakura rolled her eyes and shuffled out of the office with the other division members. Darren was surprised that she hadn't put in for a transfer yet. She was as serious as he was, and he found Carlisle to be an unbearable pest. "On second thought, I could not possibly abandon the important cases clamoring for my attention at the moment. I hear them calling right now." The scrawny freeloader made his escape before his supervisor could make good on those threats. Darren waited behind his fellow employees, lingering in Reed's office for the private meeting he knew would take place after the public one. Tanner was waiting by the door for him, but he waved his arm in a manner that communicated his partner should go on and he would catch up later. He closed the door behind him, commanding himself to not glance at the firm ass of his partner as Tanner sauntered away. "How do you think the kid will handle this assignment?" Reed asked when it was just Darren and his libido left in the room. "He'll probably fall apart, but not until after the first encounter with a demon. Until then there'll be no dissuading him. The kid's an obstinate brat." Reed smiled another of his all-knowing smiles and rubbed his chin in a considering way. Darren saw no rhyme or reason to the staff that his boss had gathered together under the wing of his division. Each agent had a different personality type and brought diverse skills to the table, but none of them 13

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had previous lives that prepared them to do the kind of tracking and detective work they engaged in now. Except for Darren himself. He had been a sniper assassin with the CIA before being shot by a rival agent. It still pissed him off that someone had been better than him at the job, but the longer he was dead, the less it irked him. Pairing him with Tanner had been out of the blue and still made no sense. He had chewed up and spit out every other partner that had been sent his way. He was an unapologetic loner who had developed the knack for flying solo on his loner missions while alive, and dying had certainly not improved his people skills. For a long while he'd simply been without a partner, and rejoiced that the Chief had finally given up on finding him one. Like some socks, he was destined to be without a double. Then one day he had been introduced to an energetic youth who was a walking wet dream and a solitude-minded man's worst nightmare. Since then he hadn't enjoyed a moment of calm. Apparently Hurricane Tanner had no eye and refused to dissolve. "Would you recommend switching him out with a member from another unit for this case? I'm sure Mihato would be willing to step in and spare Simms a confrontation with a demon." No doubt Sakura would perform the favor to protect Tanner. She had a soft spot for the kid. She was the only member of their agency who had been married with children before dying of breast cancer. Their youngest member 14

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rekindled her maternal instincts in a way reminiscent of a mama grizzly protecting her cubs. Darren honestly examined the Chief's proposal while the comfortable silence stretched out between them. After working together for numerous years, Reed understood how Darren's mind worked as it dissected a problem and generated solutions. He would not speak again until after Darren did. If Darren swapped Tanner for Sakura, he could finally get a break from the brat's incessant chatter. And considering the complicated nature of the case, his break could last for several weeks. However, if he wanted a way to push the kid into quitting, there was no better opportunity than a soulthreatening case like this one. It would take Tanner to the edge of his worst nightmares, and leave him dangling before finally shoving him over. Darren could not pass up this ripe chance to lance the boil that had been attaching itself to his side slowly but surely. And his refusal to trade the teenager had nothing to do with avoiding the hurt, disappointed expression that he would see in those luminous blue eyes when he explained his choice. His decision certainly had nothing to do with a craving to see a nubile body encased in baggy jeans and a ratty Tshirt. "That's okay, Malcolm. I'm sure Mihato would be willing, but the brat needs to get experience sooner or later. And I'll be with him at all times to watch his back." Reed nodded in his usual decisive manner and Darren rose from his chair, believing their meeting to be over. 15

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"Just remember one thing, Cox." The fact that his supervisor was addressing him by his last name sent warning flags up in Darren's mind. It was standard procedure for the Chief to call everyone by their last names, especially during business hours. But over the years the two of them had developed a bond of mutual trust and respect that allowed for first names when they were conversing in private. Malcolm only used his last name when it was just the two of them if he was about to make a statement in an official capacity. Such statements were unquestionable and crucial to keeping his ass out of a sling. "Simms is not an ordinary Retriever. There are ... complications surrounding his retrieval abilities that are a result of the way he passed over." Malcolm made direct eye contact the entire time he spoke, but there was a shield that hid any thoughts or emotions he was processing at the moment. The Chief was not an open or expressive person by any stretch under usual circumstances, but his static expression, perfect for a game of poker, was something new. "Exactly how did he die, sir? I know the history of every agent working in this division, except for his, and I have to wonder why." "That is confidential information. He'll tell you his obituary when he's ready. Until then, watch his back. And watch yours, too. I know you've sent more demons to hell than any agent in the history of this division, but this case is still going to be a bitch." Darren actually smiled upon hearing his stern boss use a real curse word and not a euphemism. That, more than 16

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anything else he'd said, conveyed the weight of his concern for his long-time associate. "Don't worry, Chief. I doubt losing my soul could be worse than losing my body." With those parting words, he marched out to face his chattering, annoying fate. If he was lucky, he might be able to slip out of the office and get to his private quarters before Tanner assaulted him with his bouncy presence. He barely heard the Chief's parting words, spoken in a soft, grave voice. "You'd be surprised." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Two The fact that Darren was not immediately set upon by his salivating, jabbering partner lulled him into a false sense of security. He lingered at his desk and finished his latest mission report, it did only have one more page to go, after all, before straightening his desk and getting ready to head for his private quarters. He even made himself available for an extra fifteen minutes after that in the open, just sitting in a leisurely way at his desk, giving the young predator every opportunity to pounce. When forty-five minutes had passed with no sign of Tanner, Darren assumed the youth had mercifully been distracted by something, possibly a shiny object, and would be occupied for awhile, providing him a Heaven-sent opportunity to escape. And he was definitely not feeling disappointed that a soft, near-breathless voice was not droning on a little too close to his ear for comfort. The brat's complete disregard for personal space had nearly put his tongue in Darren's ear in the past, causing a tingle that had to be related to revulsion and not sexual excitement. The walk back to his suite was uneventful. Each operative in the Retriever's Division roomed in the same building as their division office, in a private suite that consisted of a bedroom, bathroom, and sitting area. The living arrangements were the same for the other divisions across the Agency. Some of his weak-minded comrades claimed it made the division seem more like a family. He felt it made 18

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the division feel more like a prison. But he was dead anyway, and there was nowhere to go but Earth, and that place was a real mess, so a cell was good enough for him. He turned the last corner before his private rooms, intent on taking a shower and relaxing with a good book, he preferred Chinese literary classics like Sun Tzu's "The Art of War," when he spotted a small figure camping out by his door. He sighed in irritation and headed straight for the brat, who was leaning with his back against his door, knees drawn up to his chest. Darren was determined to send the kid hiking so that he could actually enjoy his free time before it was back to the grindstone. "You must be lost. Your rooms are that way," Darren said with a chilly voice and an emphatically-pointing finger. The sweet smile that broke out on Tanner's face was as inexplicable as it was unexpected. The brat never reacted the way Darren expected him to. Harsh words produced endearing grins and stony silences brought about fawning displays of loyalty. The kid was a puppy; no matter how many times it was kicked, just kept coming back to lick its master's hand. Now, that was an interesting metaphor. A vision of Tanner in a dog collar, tied up to his bed, flashed in Darren's mind. Where the hell had that come from? His mental turmoil caused his next words to be harsher than he originally intended. "I'd like to spend some of my free time alone. You know, that strange event when there are no people around to drone 19

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on and on about nonsensical subjects that rot a person's brain." Tanner hopped to his small sneakered feet, and for one stunned moment Darren thought his words had been understood and heeded. He really would need to lie down now, before he collapsed from shock. "You don't really want to be alone. It's a full moon tonight." "What?" The sincere expression on the brat's face said that he viewed his argument as logical and irrefutable. Darren had no freaking idea what effect the phase of the moon was supposed to have on his desire for company. Before he could voice his astonished confusion, the kid was barreling on with more absurd words. "I know the whole 'untouchable bastard' persona usually works for you, but I'm not buying it. Besides, I'm not like most people. You really don't want to push me away." Darren didn't know what stunned him more, the fact that the brat could curse with his full, pink lips and it didn't sound absurd, or the cockiness he displayed in asserting that he was the exception to Darren's 'people are too much trouble' rule. All these ramblings were flushed down the toilet of his mind as his eyes fixed on the juicy lips of the boy before him. Tanner had barely broken five feet before dying, while Darren had grown to his full height of six foot one. The disparity in their sizes placed the top of the kid's shaggy blond head even with Darren's collarbone. The brat had to crane his neck just to look his senior partner in the eye, which he did regularly, despite the pain it undoubtedly produced. 20

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Darren's fingers twitched with the urge to massage that fragile column and bring pleasure to the keyed-up youth who stood defiantly before him. Tanner inched slowly closer, like a man trying to tame a wild beast before it lunged for his jugular. When there was only a hand's width between them, Tanner stopped and tilted his face up toward Darren, who was drinking in the sight of flushed skin like it was ambrosia. A small, wet tongue peeked out of Tanner's mouth to moisten a mesmerizing pair of plump, succulent lips. Darren wanted so much so quickly. He wanted to shove the nubile body before him up against the door and possess that mouth until his raging thirst was satisfied. He wanted to fuck that clever mouth with his tongue and suckle the sweet bend in his body where the neck and shoulder met. He could taste the salty skin underneath his teeth already, imagine nipping that unblemished flesh and leaving a mark. Snap the fuck out of it Cox, his inner voice berated ruthlessly. You're not into inexperienced brats, especially male ones. Get rid of him before his hopes get raised that there might be a chance for friendship between you. "Wrong on both accounts, pest. I don't give a shit about the moon and I think my golden rule about keeping away from people very much applies to you. Now get lost before I have to report you to the Chief for harassment." Tanner took a step back from his position nearly flush against Darren, and his angelic eyes brightened with pain while his delicate lips quivered. Darren had never even seen the optimistic teenager hold a frown for longer than a minute, 21

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forget actually shedding tears. When the first fat drop rimmed his exotically-tilted eyes and plopped over the side to travel down his golden, peach-toned cheek, Darren nearly came apart with self-hatred. What kind of bastard makes the poster boy for Prozac cry? he thought with disgust. He ignored the other voice in his mind that cheered this was what he wanted. He had finally cracked through the shell of armor that his usual insults bounced off of without leaving so much as a chink. Any moment the brat would retreat from his sight, and soon after that he would start devising reasons for them to not be alone together... Darren's body responded without his permission. His steelmuscled arms clamped around the slender body of his partner in a vise grip that drew the shorter man up against his firm body. Tanner gasped with surprise, and his tears were forgotten in the face of his very large, very male partner bringing their bodies into full shoulder to foot contact. One callous-roughened hand threaded through the baby fine, bleached blond strands that hung around Tanner's head, falling into his eyes. That same hand traveled around to palm an unbelievably soft cheek, while Darren's other arm continued to keep the young body immobilized against every one of the screaming nerves that were overpowering his sense of self-preservation. He gently wiped away the salty moisture on the silken skin beneath his thumb, and marveled at the unparalleled texture. During his years on Earth he had been paid well to deliver death on time and without evidence, and he had reveled in 22

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the luxuries such a lack of conscience could afford. His body had been draped in silk, soaked in massage oils, and pampered to the point of embarrassment, but he had never experienced anything as stunning as the sleek-limbed body that was frozen in amazement within the circle of his arms. When he realized he craved that drop of fluid in his mouth more than he wanted anything else, Darren knew he was in trouble. Tanner's lips were parted in surprise, and he had nuzzled his face into the large palm that was holding him in its grasp. His breathing was coming in accelerated gasps that caused his chest to brush against Darren's with each inhalation. It was all too much. Darren's senses were screaming with stimulation too painful to ignore. Every logical thought in his brain was aborted, and his thinking faculties were rerouted to the hardness in his pants that was growing larger with each tantalizing rub of the small, pebbled nipples that brushed his chest. He had to have that mouth. Nothing mattered beyond that. "Darren?" His brat's voice was husky with a need Tanner was just beginning to understand. The sound of it caused a swelling ache in Darren groin that was on its way to dominating all of his senses. Tanner's eyes widened and then closed as he sighed into the mouth that had suddenly taken possession of his own. Darren's dark eyes remained open, watching the desire melt Tanner's features into enraptured bliss. It had been a long time since he had kissed a woman, and he had never kissed a man before, but the mechanics of this carnal act were 23

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unchanged, no matter the sex of the person involved. He licked at the swollen lips offered to him, tracing their seam with his tongue before diving inside and swallowing the whimper that tried to escape Tanner. He did not remember kissing ever being this hot, this uninhibited. He bit down on Tanner's full bottom lip, enjoying the way the powerful sensation made the body in his arms squirm against his hardening flesh in an uncontrolled spasm of need. The realization that he could have sex at that moment began to dawn on him. He could unlock his apartment door, drag the brat inside, and have Tanner naked and screaming his name in under five minutes. The surprising revelation was that he wanted that so badly. Tanner gasped in shock when he was shoved away by the arms that had cradled him snugly only moments before. He banged against the wooden door of Darren's suite and grunted from the force of the unexpected fall. Sliding down until his weight was braced on his thighs, he forced his head back until the base of his skull nearly touched his shoulders in an attempt to make eye contact with the man that had just dropped a psychological bucket of ice water on him. Darren's opaque brown eyes were heavy-lidded with searing heat as he drew in deep breaths that expanded his impressive chest even wider. His toned body was tensed beneath the cut of his expensive dress pants and shirt. His hands were clenched into fists that could easily punch a hole through the door at Tanner's back, and the thin set of his full, 24

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sensual lips broadcast his anger at having lost control of his flawlessly obedient body. And all they had done was make out for approximately two minutes. "You are not a child and you do not need my comfort, but you will need to see the department physician if you continue to seek me out after business hours." Darren's voice was strained, like his vocal cords were stretched tight enough to rip. His words were vehement, despite the wavering that could not be entirely masked. He knew it was clear that he was trying hard to be harsh and unaffected by his maltreatment of the youth sprawled before him, but it was costing him. "Now, move the hell out of my way." Tanner slowly rebalanced his weight and climbed to his feet in as elegant a manner as possible. Instead of crumbling into a fresh batch of tears, he offered a serene, almost transcendent smile to Darren, and gallantly stood to the side of the door that had just sparred with him. "I'll see you in the morning, partner. Bright and early. The Ghostbusters ride at dawn." Tanner practically skipped his way down the hall to his own private quarters without glancing back to see the confused expression on Darren's face. Darren felt like he had just lost a bet without knowing what the stakes were to begin with. What the hell had just happened? ****

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Tanner's morning routine never varied. He figured there was no need to mess with perfection. He rose with his alarm blaring whatever radio station he preferred that week; he loved many different types of music, and could not listen to CDs because he tired so quickly of the same songs. This week his selection was an American oldies station that defined 'old' as seventies and early eighties. It was mellow music, devoid of the anger and drama found in the lyrics of modern punk rock or hardcore metal. He didn't need anything else pulling his emotions from highs to lows. He thought of his sullen partner as he entered stage two of his morning ritual, which consisted of cooking his favorite fatty breakfast foods and brewing the blackest, strongest coffee a bean could produce. Since he was dead, and able to finally enjoy it, he had no qualms about indulging in an artery clogging, grease-drenched, heart-stopping caffeinated good time. You usually only died once after all, unless you were a particularly unlucky bastard. Darren Cox approached his afterlife with opposing view. He seemed determined to drain every hint of amusement from their new lifestyle, and live like those zombies the undead were always portrayed as. Tanner snickered as he pictured Darren with a blank expression, glazed-over white eyes, spittle dripping from his slack mouth. He could see Darren lumbering along with his arms straight out in front of him, just begging to be tripped. The sound of his percolator finishing broke into his entertaining imaginings and he poured his addictive syrup into his favorite mug, one with a cute fuzzy bunny mouthing 26

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off to the populace in general. The bunny reminded him of the person he used to see in the mirror, back when he cared about looking at his face because something might change. He appeared delicate and harmless on the outside, but inside he guarded a secret that would turn his straight and narrow partner away in disgust. It was something worse than desiring carnal relations with the impervious Retriever. Far worse than that... Tanner shook his shaggy blond head and finished gulping down his defibrillator in order to take a quick cold shower. He didn't dare take a warm one, because then he was tempted to linger, and imagine strong, broad hands running over his sensitive flesh. He preferred to masturbate in bed before going to sleep, because the oblivion that immediately followed his release held his personal critic at bay. He was an optimistic person by nature, even after everything he had faced in life and beyond, and he often used his easygoing prankster image to glide through awkward situations that might be painful or humiliating without such a shield to protect his already damaged heart. He was also intelligent enough to figure out Darren Cox was as straight and unflinching as any soldier cast in metal. His world view was uncompromising, and unforgiving of those he deemed idiots, slackers, or just plain misfits. And yet he had seemed truly concerned when his words caused real pain. He had even broken one of his ten commandments, thou shalt not touch, to embrace Tanner and offer the small comfort his iron-forged soul could produce. 27

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Then that comfort had erupted into unquenchable flames that nearly consumed them both whole. Tanner flashed a guilty smile as he toweled himself dry and went searching in his walk-in closet for another pair of loose jeans and a shapeless top. His feelings had not really been hurt by the words that were tossed at him like a dagger by his senior partner. Darren had said far worse to him in passing at the office, in the hallway, basically whenever he was in stalker mode. Those tears were manufactured in an attempt to draw some kind of emotion from Mr. Freeze. He had never tried that tactic before on the living ice sculpture, and hadn't really expected it to work. More degrading words about what a baby he was for showing such weak emotions was the scenario he had been prepared to face. He never expected to be taken into those strong arms, to feel the muscles bunch and flex as they protected him. It was the most erotic, and yet touching, experience Tanner had among his memories, and they hadn't done more than kiss. There had been no groping, though he certainly had wanted to. It was torture to wrap his arms around that solid waist and not allow his hands to drop a few inches until they were wrapped around a temptingly firm butt cheek, squeezing to test if every part of Darren was inflexible. Tanner released an explosive sigh that sent his overlong bangs sailing into the air before they settled in his eyes once more. Since the first day he'd been introduced to his new partner, Tanner had been hooked. He never understood what people meant when they talked about obsession, or addiction. The idea that a person could allow something like cocaine 28

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destroy body and mind was ludicrous to him. Who would cause themselves pain intentionally just for a few moments of pleasure? Now he knew the answer to that question. He would. He already had, and could not produce enough self-control to curb his masochistic desire to be around his partner. The truth was he was everything that Darren hated, all wrapped up in one nice tidy package. He wasn't disciplined, organized, punctual, focused, or unemotional. Not only that, he had the audacity to try to get Darren to lighten up and actually find pleasure in the work they did and their pursuits outside of that. Might as well attempt keeping his floor clean of clothes for a whole month, such was the magnitude of the impossible task. But now there was a sign of hope. A single star had shone in the twilight of his goal, and that was Darren letting go of his legendary control long enough to drive his tongue into Tanner's mouth in a way that was more than suggestive. He had not even glanced up and down the hallway first to make sure they would not be spotted. Tanner considered the event a major victory, and proof that maybe he wasn't wasting his afterlife chasing a man who would forever be beyond his reach. That newfound hope was what caused him to walk away smiling like an idiot from a confrontation that would send most people into a depression. He was used to getting negative attention from Darren, and he could survive on that because it was at least something. But he wanted to do more than survive, and for that he needed more stolen moments 29

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when the older Retriever let his guard down and stopped analyzing long enough to feel. At least he knew now that Darren could be attracted to men. He might not want to be, and would assuredly fight those sensations with every fiber of his being, but he had been hardening against Tanner's stomach while they were embracing, and there had been nothing platonic about the way Darren stroked the male face beneath his hands and devoured Tanner's mouth. It was now time for phase two of his scheme for seducing the experienced Retriever. Stage one had been insinuating himself further into the man's life, becoming part of his routine and a familiar presence. He wanted Darren to know that he was here to stay, no matter what kind of abuse was slung at him. The Chief had been kind enough to warn Tanner about his top agent's abrasive quirks. He definitely wanted Tanner in his division because of his unique talents, but he was willing to rearrange the pairings under his guidance and place an agent that was in another unit with Darren so that Tanner could be around a more pleasant partner and not be scared away before his orientation period ended. Tanner had flat-out refused. After seeing Darren stalk around the office like he was the man in charge, he was fascinated. No one else would do, he had to be paired with that dominant, alpha male. Not only would he learn the most from Darren, but he enjoyed nothing less than a challenge. Darren certainly did not disappoint. From the moment of their introduction, he made his feelings clear about being 30

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paired with a "brat." He was sarcastic and rude every minute of every hour they worked together. As Tanner befriended the other agents in the division, he slowly learned about Darren's horrible track record with partners. None of the other agents had been with the division as long as Darren, but each had at least one story to tell about the way the man drove people crazy, and drove them away. All their talk had just made Tanner more determined to succeed in being the cold man's partner. He had endured unending abuse, physical and mental, in the years he was alive and then even after. Torment was nothing new to him, and if all he had to worry about was one anal man who yelled at him while he got to live in a comfortable suite, eat all the food he wanted, and do a job he loved, then he wasn't about to complain. Because he really did love his job. Helping ghosts who had been wandering around in pain to finally find peace was gratifying. Then there were the cases like the one they were currently assigned, where they got to protect the living by doing their job. Completing those also brought a sense of pride and accomplishment. Thinking about their latest case made Tanner realize he was going to be late for his rendezvous with an intolerant partner if he couldn't find where he had flung his other sneaker last night. He searched in all the usual spots: under the bed, behind the couch, and, yes, even in the refrigerator. When he tripped on it racing into the bathroom, and landed on his face, all he felt was relief. 31

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He did receive a small token for his clumsiness, a scratch on his cheek that surface bled a bit until he cleaned it. He steamed about the unfairness of still feeling pain after death all the way down the hall to the division offices. He couldn't wait until he had been dead as long as Darren and these little injuries that he was always falling into didn't cause residual pain. During one past case he had witnessed his partner burning his hand with a lighter in an attempt to get untied, and the man hadn't so much as grimaced or whimpered in pain. Flesh and blood dripping down his arms was apparently no biggie. Yes, it was definitely time to step up his game plan and be more aggressive. He was done luring Darren with his nimble body from afar. Stage two required him to make as much bodily contact as possible and prolong it until he was forced to stop in one way or another. Most likely Darren would complain to the Chief that he was being harassed, but that was a risk Tanner didn't mind taking. If he had to walk around in a state of uncomfortable arousal all the time, there was no reason the object of his fascination should be spared a little discomfort. Turn about was fair play. **** Darren was standing by their connected desks when Tanner burst through the glass doors in a panting blur of energy. Darren was dressed in his usual dark dress slacks and tailored shirt ensemble, his trademark black trench coat slung across the back of his rolling desk chair. His arms were 32

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crossed in front of his chest, his wristwatch clearly visible for him to glance at and then shoot menacing looks across the room to the main entrance doors. Tanner's eyes were drawn to the strong hands that had caressed and aroused him not twenty-four hours ago. He wanted to feel them on his body again, on more needy areas than his face and waist. He desperately needed those strong fingers to touch his cock through the abrasive fabric of his jeans and rub him until he blacked out with pleasure and came in his pants. It was a nice fantasy, one that had him hardening instantly, but the man before him did not seem to have warmed to his presence since ordering him away the night before. Tanner would have laughed out loud if he had not still been attempting to catch his breath. At least they had one thing in common. No matter how contrasting their personalities and styles of dress were, both were predictably unvaried from one day to the next. He was ever the horny teenager, while Darren continued to play the unreachable Greek god. "Sorry to keep you waiting for my stunning presence. This natural beauty does need some maintenance, believe it or not," Tanner opened with a tease and wink. Maybe he should have stopped after only one cup of coffee. Anything more than that and he risked the very real chance of Darren going on this reconnaissance mission without him. "While you are grooming, there is still the ghost of a madman on Earth plotting to kill a young woman. Maybe next 33

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time you can wait to comb your hair until after we do our job." Darren's words were the usual angry snarl that passed for communication from him in the morning. He really needed to come over for some coffee before starting the day. Tanner knew he used to drink it every day when he was living, and didn't understand the point of refusing it now that he didn't need it. The afterlife was all about cutting things out for Darren. All that mattered was being independent of any people or needs. Tanner vowed that attitude was about to go the way of the dodo. The insufferable man was going to find out the true meaning of 'need.' "Fair enough," he responded good-naturedly. Darren grunted. "And I was not wasting time combing my hair." His partner's disdainful glance at his messy golden locks did not argue disbelief. "I was looking for my shoe. I need to start leaving them in the same place when I take them off." "Among other things." Tanner ignored Darren's rude interruption and continued with his story. "I even suffered a wound in my brave battle to save my sneaker. See?" He pointed to the scratch on his cheek that was already beginning to scab. "Should I be impressed?" "I thought you might want to kiss it and make the hurt go away." Darren's eyes widened in shock after the seriouslydelivered words. His body was so still it felt like the moment 34

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was frozen in time. Then his eyes narrowed and the pulse in his throat leapt with anger. He leaned close enough to Tanner's face that his warm breath tickled the sensitive microscopic hairs, and ground his words out through clenched teeth. "Don't think anything has changed between us just because I had a moment of insanity last night and was nicer to you than you deserve. It will not happen again, ever." Then Darren stormed off to check in with the Chief, no doubt to let him know they were about to head to Earth and investigate the house of the serial killer's final target. Tanner stood where he was, biting his lip to stop the goofy grin his emotions were calling for. Darren wouldn't have been so angry if he wasn't deeply disturbed by what had happened between them the night before. He probably spent his whole night of not sleeping thinking about the feeling of Tanner in his arms. Those thoughts had certainly occupied Tanner's mind as he brought himself to completion in the dark before drifting off to sleep. Darren returned and signaled with a nod that it was time for their transference. To cross over to Earth required metaphysical transportation that could be accomplished by any ghost not bound by an incantation. The ghosts that served the A.A.A. had any bindings dispelled upon admittance to the organization, and were therefore free to travel wherever their minds specified. Tanner focused on the address of their target's house. Alicia Brody lived in a one-story house on the rural outskirts of a town in New York called Amnesty. He clearly pictured the photograph of the house that had been provided along with 35

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the case file. Closing his eyes and relaxing his breathing, he released his hold on the particles that made up his ghostly form. It felt like melting as he vaporized and disappeared, only to reappear on a well-maintained green lawn. He immediately searched for Darren, and found him on the cobblestoned pathway leading up to the door of what appeared to be a quaint cottage. "Freaking show off," Tanner mumbled as he followed Darren to the door. Someday his transference skills would be as accurate as his partner's, but right now they could use some work. "Our cover is we are detectives from the NYPD who are here to question her about this serial killer. The man was spotted in this area before his death, and we need her statement in order to complete our follow up report on the investigation. I'll do the introductions. You just follow my lead." "Yes, sir, Lieutenant Cox," Tanner joked with mock subservience. He was used to Darren's expectations by now. He was supposed to stand behind his partner with a dumb look on his face, and try his best not to interfere or do his job in any way. Yeah, right. The woman who answered the door fit the perpetrator's victim profile perfectly. She was a petite brunette with long hair and an athletic physique. The fact that she lived in this house located off the beaten path would have made her an easy target. Her polite expression showed a combination of curiosity and wariness, and she wouldn't open the front door all the way. 36

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"Good morning ma'am. I am Lieutenant Cox, and this is my partner, Officer Simms. We'd like a moment of your time to ask some questions, if you can spare it." They produced their 'badges' and flipped them open to verify their identities. The woman's face immediately softened, and she opened the door fully to admit them into her home. On the way to her living room, Tanner whispered, "I don't even get to be a sergeant?" Darren returned his question with a look that was meant to be a reprimand for him daring to speak out loud before receiving permission. He smiled deviously and followed his partner into the comfortable room, decorated in breezy, floral patterns. He sat down on the couch next to Darren, close enough that his partner had to shift away so that their thighs weren't touching. He was angry with Darren for completely ignoring the activities they had engaged in the night before and continuing to be a cold bastard towards him. This interview seemed like the perfect opportunity to initiate stage two. He knew any physical gestures he made in front of a valuable source for their case would be ignored in favor of obtaining vital information. He just had to be careful not to push too far. Alicia chose the sofa chair across from the couch and stared questioningly at the small amount of space between their bodies. "Ms. Brody, we have some questions for you concerning a Mr. Alex Creaton." 37

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"Please, call me Alicia. That name sounds familiar, but I can't place the face." "You probably heard about him on the news. He was called the 'Serpent Saint' because of the way he would sacrifice his murder victims on the altars of churches and other religious establishments." "Yes, I do remember that news piece now. They said that he died from something in his own house. What does any of that have to do with me?" Tanner only partially listened as his partner explained their cover story again. Most of his senses were focused on the natural energy within the house and in the yard outside. If a ghost was in the vicinity, he would feel the unnatural energy, especially the dark pulsations emitted by a ghost using demonic powers to remain across the Veil. He quieted his thoughts and sent his magnified paranormal awareness out into the back yard. He could sense small animals and many types of flowers, including roses, but no dark energy. Their ghostly offender was not haunting his intended victim's house at the moment. Where else could he be? He reeled his senses back into the house and on to the couch where he lounged. His part of this field trip was done. Now it was time to enjoy making his explosive partner squirm. He casually stretched his legs, moving them closer to Darren's so that their thighs were touching once more. Darren shot him a dark, warning glance, but was obviously unwilling to draw more attention to his acts by getting up and moving. Darren continued his line of questioning as if nothing 38

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out of the ordinary were happening. Tanner tried to rub up against him every day. Standard operating procedure. "Have you noticed anything suspicious happening around your house? Things being moved or going missing without explanation? Any strange noises?" "No, I really can't say that I have." Tanner casually moved his hand so that it rested on the muscled thigh of his soon-to-be-incensed partner. He felt the muscles immediately contract, and out of the corner of his eye saw Darren lock his jaw. Alicia glanced at his hand and hastily looked away, trying to ignore what was right before her eyes. He had to give the Ice Man credit. Darren didn't betray his discomfort by looking at Tanner or screaming at the top of his lungs for the hand to be removed. "Do you attend a local church?" "Yes, I do. There's a Catholic parish about twenty-five minutes from here. I go every Sunday morning." "What is the name of the church, ma'am?" "Our Lady of Hope Catholic Church." Alicia rattled off the address as Tanner began to slowly massage the firm flesh under his palm. He could feel himself getting excited as he rubbed in small, slow circles, moving closer and closer to the center of the long legs. It was clear that Darren was having a harder time concentrating on his job. He asked Alicia to repeat the address so he could remember to write it down this time.

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Tanner continued to stare straight ahead and pretend to be interested in the family photos that decorated the walls behind Alicia's chair. Tanner skimmed his hand along his partner's inner thigh and was rewarded with the man tensing up and dropping his pen on the taupe carpet. Darren stood with a look of murderous intent on his face and retrieved the pen before thanking Alicia for her time. Tanner politely thanked her as well and followed his fuming partner out of the tiny house that probably would not have been able to withstand his anger. "Where's your patrol car?" Alicia asked from the porch as she shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned her driveway. "We parked it down the street, around the bend where it is hidden by the forest. Didn't want to startle you unnecessarily." Alicia still looked confused, and that wariness was creeping back into her eyes, but she let the matter drop and returned to her normal life inside of her average home. She had no idea what kind of men had just darkened her doorstep, and was obviously not overly concerned. Darren, it seemed, was so angry he wouldn't even speak to Tanner yet. He showed Tanner the piece of paper with the church's address on it and then stormed off down the road so he could transfer in the surrounding forest where their hostess could not see. By the time Tanner caught up with Darren's furious strides, Darren had blinked out of the area and left Tanner little 40

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choice but to follow. He came back to himself in the cool, echoing sanctuary of a palatial church with a vaulted ceiling. His eyes adjusted to the dim interior, lit only by candles and the sunshine that could fight its way through the dark, stained glass windows. The air smelled like incense, and the overpowering fragrance was triggering the memories of a headache as he searched the shadowed corners and pews for his partner. He finally located Darren up at the front of the sanctuary, standing before an altar that was covered with candelabra filled with white candles. The flames cast twisting light on his stony expression as he gazed at the statue of Jesus Christ on the cross that was suspended behind. "What the hell were you doing back there?" The controlled voice startled Tanner. Darren's dark gaze hadn't moved from the disturbing statue, and the candlelight glinting off his black hair and dark eyes gave him the appearance of one who was demon-possessed. "I just wanted to touch you." When he did not offer any extended explanation or an apology, Darren finally speared him with the potent intensity of his gaze. His depthless eyes held Tanner in place like a manacle on his wrist, and their blazing mixture of heat and fear drew him in like a black hole. He shivered from the power those eyes had over him. He couldn't look or turn away, even if Darren had tried to punch him and he had to watch the fist swinging directly towards him.

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It wasn't fair that he was so weakened by this man. He would give anything for Darren to feel just an ounce of the desperation to be closer that he struggled with every day. The longer they stared at each other, surrounded by silence and candlelight, the louder Tanner's breathing became. Just being touched by this man's eyes, really being seen, was enough to waken his arousal and increase his heart rate. He wondered what Darren would do if he leaned up and pressed his lips to the ones he ached for. Probably follow in the footsteps of their serial killer and sacrifice him on the altar. Darren's lips parted, but Tanner never got a chance to hear the words about to come out. The older Retriever's gaze was torn from him to a point behind him, and filled with a battle haze a second before he shoved Tanner roughly to the floor. Tanner hit the hard marble tiles with a roll and came up on his knees, using a pew for cover. The blast of dark energy that had been meant for him had taken out a row of candelabra on the altar, and candles lay scattered about the floor, thankfully away from any carpeted surfaces. Darren had dived to the floor before he could be singed, and was now using the pew directly across as a shield against their undead enemy. "I hope I haven't spoiled this touching moment. Two men staring at each other like that in a church must surely be sacrilege." The sniveling voice of Alex Creaton echoed around the acoustically-enhanced sanctuary and made it more difficult to 42

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pinpoint his exact location. Tanner leaned out around the pew, careful to remain close to the ground, and saw nothing. The madman was not down the center aisle, which meant he could reappear anywhere nearby, including directly behind them. That was not a wise idea, as he would need to attack and transfer again before Darren caught him in a restraining incantation and revoked his ass to hell. But he was an unstable madman, so one couldn't completely rule out that possibility. Tanner glanced at Darren, awaiting his orders. The hand signals they had developed for situations like this, when silence was mandatory, communicated that Tanner was to lie low while Darren drew the demon-possessed killer away into a confrontation outside. He shook his head vehemently, indicating he wouldn't agree to such a plan. No way would he allow the stubborn, suicidal idiot to take on a demon by himself. Darren might have done it in the past, but he didn't need to go it alone anymore. This was a partnership, and Tanner was going to prove that he could help. He told himself that he wasn't afraid of a homicidal demon, even if the thought of facing one conjured dark memories to scatter around his brain like cockroaches when a light was turned on. The idea of Darren being burned by dark energy terrified him, but he could take on one power-hungry evil spirit without flinching. Diving from behind his manmade barrier, Tanner dashed for the intricately-carved doors that would lead out of the sanctuary and into the light that would weaken their enemy's powers. He could hear Darren screaming behind him, but 43

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ignored the words and focused on reaching the doors before he felt hot, burning dark energy tearing through his clothes and flesh. His vision narrowed to what was immediately before him, as his breath tore through his chest and adrenaline excited his nerves to the point of pain. He was almost clear of the sanctuary, just short of the doorway that would lead toward safety, when a black form materialized before him. Tanner barely managed to skid to a stop, and stood paralyzed before the twisted look of pleasure on the demented killer's face. He realized he was about to find out what it was like to die twice. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Three "Stop!" The words were ripped from Darren's lips without consideration of keeping the location of his hiding spot a secret. None of that mattered now that Tanner was out in the open. Nothing mattered more than keeping his young partner safe. His anger toward the kid for his ludicrous behavior at Alicia Brody's house disappeared, along with his anger at himself for allowing his mind to be so occupied with a lithe, tan body and set of sparkling blue eyes, to the point of forgetting his surroundings. The devious monster that could take down his partner at any second should not have been able to transfer into the same room with them, let alone get off a shot, before he noticed. Now he would pay the price for his own stupidity, through the pain inflicted on Tanner and the inexplicable pain that threatened his own heart at that realization. He dove from the secure hiding spot that had become one of the safest places in the world to be, thanks to his brash partner, and ran like he was heading toward shelter instead of away from it. The sound of Tanner's sneakers thumping against the marble floor of the opulent cathedral matched the erratic racing of his heart as he blindly ran after the most foolish, pigheaded, obstinate teenager he had ever met. The mantra in his mind that kept repeating was close to unintelligible but resembled a plea that he make it in time. He had to reach the 45

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brat before the demon did. The alternative was ... unacceptable. The sound of malicious laughter made him look down the aisle, past the form of his sprinting partner, to the black smoke that was materializing into the form of a man intent on stealing the soul of his startled victim. Tanner nearly ran straight into the demon, halting his progress just in time to avoid contact that would melt the flesh of his exposed form. Time seemed to freeze as Tanner stood before a rapidly solidifying psychotic killer, a familiar defiant expression on the kid's face that couldn't hide the tremors of fear that were nearly toppling him to the floor. He raised his hands, beautiful, slender hands that were meant for a civil occupation, like arranging flowers, and prepared to do something. Maybe he intended to make a desperate attempt at binding the demon, but what he should have been doing was transferring his ass out of that church. "Dissolve, Tanner! Now! That's an order!" Darren might as well have saved his breath. Either the kid was too caught up in the nightmare looming before him to hear the shouted words, or he was still determined to accomplish whatever suicidal task had sent him down this road of destruction in the first place. In another second their enemy would be completely reformed and able to access his hell-inspired magic. Darren was still too far away. Damn it. He pushed his body harder than he ever had before, even in his days of pulling black ops in the humid land of an African rain forest. He couldn't risk transferring now that he was so 46

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close. It could end up costing him precious time that he didn't have because of the adrenaline-fogged state of his mind. He wouldn't be able to focus enough to make it a quick, clean process. Alex finished his reformation and stood before Tanner as a typical, creepy-looking predator. He was taller than the kid by a few inches, but still shorter than average, with a thinning shock of dull, greasy brown hair that he had combed over his receding hairline. His skin was pale and hung loosely around his body, and his flat brown eyes were sunken into the droops of whitewashed skin. The only color on his face came from the dark circles that extended around his eyes a full 360 degrees. The stomach-churning sneer on his face exposed the demon marking that was branded on the inside of his lower lip, where it wouldn't be seen unless he was careless, or intent on scaring someone who knew the significance of such a tattoo. Every demon carried the symbol for their house on the inside of their lip, each a different mixture of slashes that could be translated into meaning in the ancient language they sometimes still conversed in. Any ghost that was possessed by demons, derogatorily called a hell slave, would carry the same type of symbol in the same location for the house they served. Their predator was inconsequential by physical standards, but the twisted smile on his near-invisible lips predicted the reservoirs of sickening, corrupt power that twisted beneath his skin like carnivorous serpents coiling around their prey before choking and feasting on it. His malevolent eyes settled 47

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on the young dish before him with unashamed desire, and he raised his decrepit, shaking hands to unleash a burst of painful dark energy on a boy too stupid to save his own hide. As soon as Darren saw the potent black lightning leap from the killer's fingers and arch toward Tanner, he stopped running. His body would be no help from this moment on. Touching his partner would only transfer the current until they were both on the floor writhing in pain. His instincts were screaming at him to bull rush the evil-minded man and pummel him to the ground, give him back a taste of his sadism. But he would only get caught, and his juvenile attempt to feel the satisfaction of hurting the bastard with his bare hands would be pointless. Tanner screamed when the first jolt of electrical energy seared his flesh and blazed down his nerve endings. He fell to the floor in a convulsing heap and curled into a fetal position, clearly trying to escape the pain. Any further screams for help or release were lost to the agonizing pain that was no doubt all-consuming and endless. Darren knew firsthand how that kind of anguish could rob you of everything, including your awareness of time and self. Everything blurred into one, long test of endurance, and the only choice left to make was whether you would allow yourself to pass out and escape the pain mentally if not bodily. He knew from experience how demon fire could make a man crazy from the ceaseless torment, but he was discovering that watching it done to someone else was almost as unbearable. He had to act quickly before there was nothing left of Tanner to save. 48

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He raised his hands and began to chant the incantation that would paralyze the monster and allow him to send it to a fiery pit in hell. The words he used were ancient, in a tongue that had not been spoken on Earth since before the last ice age. It was spoken among the angels and whispered by the demons who cursed the Commander of the heavenly forces. Darren and his fellow agents did not belong to either faction. There was no place for them in Heaven or hell. They were chosen to remain in a type of purgatory, a realm in between ultimate pain and ultimate reward, serving a Higher Power for the good of mankind. Darren had never before hated his job. It was better than being an assassin and it came with perks, like the eventual cessation of feeling. But at the moment he despised his work, and any greater power that would call upon a boy who was barely a young man to sacrifice so much for a few humans who would never know the difference. He channeled his impotent rage into his words and chanted louder, his verbal weapons ringing off the walls of the cathedral, straight into the beatless heart of the monster still holding his partner in a searing grip. He could see that the demon spawn was getting worried about the angry man who was chanting gibberish at the top of his lungs. He kept moving his oozing gaze from Tanner's prone form to Darren's unbending one. In under a minute he would burn out Tanner's soul and leave the teenager a hollow husk. Already the kid's body had ceased to tremble and react in any way meant to avoid the 49

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pain. Tanner was beyond feeling the pain of his inner core's nuclear meltdown. Darren's fear and anger mixed into a palpable force that heightened the intensity of the primordial power he called upon. He could feel the light he summoned rushing into the sanctuary of the church, dispelling the darkness with its fiery tentacles. He closed his eyes and gave his body over completely to be the channel for the archaic essences pouring forth from a realm outside the one he currently inhabited. He opened his eyes once more, unable to fight his desire to see the killer's fear when he realized what was coming for him. Tanner might be about to die for all eternity, but he would make sure that demon bastard was expelled before his partner's last, shuddering breath was drawn. Alex's bulging eyes were wide and no doubt frozen in fear, his mouth folding in on itself in what looked like fighting the urge to retch. His skeletal hands were shaking so badly that the dark energy they were expelling was not even touching Tanner's crippled form any more. The demon was the prisoner now, caged within the horrifying possibilities that light suggested to his kind. Suddenly, the dark lightning ceased completely and the light that rushed into the church to consume all in its path found nothing to fill except the empty spot where a demon had stood moments before. ****

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"He's extremely lucky, you know. Not that I'm surprised. It seems this kid's lot in life is to live through sudden death situations and recover to brag about them." The snidely skeptical words were spoken by Dr. Tara O'Connor, physician for the Retrievers Division of the Agency of Afterlife Activity, and all-around firecracker. The woman was pureblood Irish, with the red hair and smattering of freckles to prove it. Not that her temper left any doubters as to the truth of her heredity. "There appears to be no external damage to his body, except this small scratch on his cheek. I assume that happened sometime before the incident, since it is almost completely closed over." Tara glanced at him, the only other person momentarily in the diagnostic room of the medical ward she ran inside the division facility. Darren forced his eyes away from the lifeless form spread out on a gurney and tried to focus on answering the doctor's questions. He doubted anything he said would drastically affect the outcome of Tanner's treatment, but he certainly owed the kid that much, and far more. "He did that to himself this morning. Tripped over God knows what and scratched his cheek." The details of the ludicrous story were fuzzy in his mind, but his fresh guilt made him wish he'd listened enough to remember some of what could be the last words his partner ever spoke. The demon had not succeeded in killing Tanner, though he had gotten damned close. The monster had dissolved in fear before he could finish the kill and Darren could finish the binding. 51

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He had not disappeared before doing enough damage to send Tanner to the infirmary indefinitely, and by the end of this examination Darren would know the prospects for recovery. At the moment they looked grim. Tanner had not regained consciousness since Darren had scraped him off the floor of that gothic church and transferred them both directly into the hospital wing of their division. He hadn't reported in to Reed yet, and had no intention of doing so until he had some concrete answers about Tanner's condition. "Sounds just like something he would do," Tara fondly laughed as she continued poking and prodding Tanner's unresponsive form. The brat looked so different without his big eyes open, broadcasting some intense emotion, everything from mischief to hyperactive joy. And lust. Darren had seen the way that feeling made Tanner's tilted eyes drop to half-mast and his pupils dilate until they almost eclipsed his stunning irises. The response such a look from Tanner could draw from Darren were scarier than the demon they had just faced. Damn, he was such a fucking coward. He didn't mind going toe to toe with a beast straight from hell, but one energetic young man sent him running to his room like a momma's boy. "He's going to be okay, you know." The solemn words redirected Darren's thoughts from the spiral of self-hatred he was descending into to the thirtysomething woman before him. He didn't know much about the Irish doctor Reed had enlisted, beyond the bare bones of her employee profile. She had worked as a physician on Earth 52

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before dying from a diabetes-related illness, and had been with their division for a little over a year now. She apparently knew and was friends with Tanner, neither of which was surprising. Tanner was clumsy enough to hurt himself in a variety of inventive ways, and likeable enough to befriend anyone he crossed paths with. Almost anyone, Darren amended. He would not exactly call what they had friendship. It was a confusing mixture of lust, hatred, and a pressure in his chest that would not stop squeezing until the brat was awake and whole enough to annoy his brains out. "You've finished your admittance examination, then?" "Seems like it. The kid is banged up pretty badly internally, no question about it. He couldn't have held out much longer against the kind of dark energy that demon was tossing around. He's dehydrated and has massive internal burning, hemorrhaging, and bleeding, but he's not beyond saving. Our kind are amazingly resilient, even against odds like these. I'll begin his intensive rehabilitation schedule immediately, and we'll have to take it day to day." Darren nodded, feeling exhausted and useless. He'd promised the Chief he would watch the kid's back, and he'd done a bang-up job of that. An hour later he was still reluctant to leave the private room they had transported Tanner to. Nothing about his partner's condition had changed, and Tara promised to notify him if anything did, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he would let the kid down again if he went about his normal business. Finally, Tara threatened to call his supervisor and 53

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report that he was shirking his responsibilities if he didn't "get the hell out from under her feet." He relented and went to face Reed, knowing that would be the ruthless punishment he felt his irresponsible actions deserved. The Chief's expression promised hellfire and brimstone when he entered the intelligently soundproofed room. His face was set in an iron mask of disapproval, and his fingers were steepled below his chin, probably in an effort to keep from banging his fists against his solid wood desk. On his way to the interrogation, Darren had been aware of his fellow operatives whispering amongst themselves and subtly watching him approach. After he passed, their staring became blatant. They must have heard about what had happened to Tanner and who had been with him at the time. Good news certainly traveled fast in this place. "Sit down, Cox." "Good to see you, too, Chief," Darren responded with weary sarcasm. He didn't have it in him to be a full-blown asshole, especially since he felt he deserved whatever beating his supervisor was gearing up to. "What the hell happened today? You told me you were going to investigate that woman's house, and the next thing I hear, you're dragging Tanner's charred remains into the intensive care unit after confronting a demon in a church." "Sounds like you know about as much as I do." "Not good enough. You better come up with a convincing argument against me booting your ass out of my division." If Reed's compressed lips and slashed eyebrows weren't proof 54

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enough that he was pissed off, then his use of curse words was. The Chief reserved foul language for special moments of catastrophe. He claimed they had more power when used sparingly. Darren sighed and rubbed his thirty-two year old face. He could feel every one of his Earth years and beyond at the moment. He knew the Chief wouldn't fire him. He was too valuable a commodity with his experience in the division. He wasn't upset by the empty threats, only by the valuable time they wasted that he could be using to check in on Tanner. "I don't have a valid excuse for what happened. The demon's presence wasn't at the girl's house, so we went to where she worshipped since the sicko liked to off his victims on church altars. While we were there, we got distracted by the ... scenery, and he got the drop on us." "Distracted by the scenery? What the hell does that mean?" "Just like it sounds." "It sounds like a piss-poor excuse for not doing your job." "Like I said, just like it sounds." Reed deflated and reclined back in his chair, his anger spent on a punching dummy that wouldn't fight back. The eyes that stared into Darren's were now resigned, controlled, and fed up with a situation that had no real bad guys and yet a disturbing crime. "What did Dr. O'Connor have to say?" "She says Tanner will recover, but she has no idea how long it will take." "Not as long as you or she fears." 55

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Darren's forehead wrinkled as he heard more information being transferred than the words themselves revealed. "What makes you so certain?" "The kid's a special case. There's never been anything like him in the Agency, and I doubt there ever will be again." "You apparently know something about his past that is relevant to us doing our jobs. The fact that you refuse to share it doesn't sit well with me." "The information is confidential." "According to who? It's not like there's a chance I might spread it to my friends in the division, considering I have none by my own choosing." "According to the chief executive officer of this agency. And you do have friends here." Whether the Chief was referring to himself or Tanner, Darren didn't know or care. He was fed up with all this bureaucratic bullshit and more than ready to check on his partner's status. Reed's refusal to talk was frustrating, but his words gave hope to the dark places in Darren's mind where Tanner's light had unknowingly cast away some of the emptiness. "I'll fill out a mission report as soon as I can. Will there be an internal investigation?" "Hell, Darren. I know you didn't intend for Simms to get hurt. I just want to ensure this won't happen again. I think we should reassign him to another unit for the remainder of this case. I know he'll refuse more recovery time if we offer it straight out, so I'll make sure he and his temporary partner receive low-stress assignments only." 56

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Darren couldn't argue with that solution. The Chief was giving him the exact punishment his rookie actions deserved by taking the kid away. He had broken his toy and now he had to do without it for awhile. There was no reason for Darren to be angry. The Chief's decision was fair, and the right thing for Tanner and the division. The brat could get extra recovery time without his pride being stung, and Darren could wrap the case up quicker without carting an invalid around with him. So why was he so damned furious? "Aren't you at least going to ask Tanner if that's what he wants? If you're so sure he'll heal quickly, there's no reason to remove him from the case." Reed's observant eyes narrowed, his sharp detective instincts obviously telling him something was not adding up. "What is this about, Darren? I don't think it's unreasonable to expect Simms to take it easy for a couple of weeks. I'd like him to get experience with demonic activity, but this certainly won't be his last opportunity. So what has gotten you so worked up?" Darren had no idea why his emotions were so out of control. A few days ago he hadn't even thought he possessed the torturous things, but his young partner seemed hellbent on revealing their existence to him. He took a quick inventory of his body and found he was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clenching the arms with enough force to splinter the wood. No wonder he had startled his supervisor. His body was on full alert, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. 57

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Forcing the air in through his nose and out through his mouth helped him refocus his control and calm down the emotions that were running rampant throughout his nervous system. He forced himself to lean back and assume a casual posture once more, releasing his death grip on the chair. "Just been one hell of a day. Your plan for Simms sounds solid and you can count on my support. If you have no objections, I would like to have official leave to check on my partner." Reed's expression said he didn't quite buy Darren's sudden shift in alignment from against his plan to for it, but he also wasn't stupid enough to question the blessing of the hardheaded agent backing down. He picked up an expensive, gilded pen and began walking it across his fingers as he came to a decision about some aspect of the current situation. "Do yourself a favor, Cox, and don't come back to the office after you check on Simms. Take the rest of the day off." "I appreciate the sentiment, Chief, but I don't need it." "I don't remember asking if you needed it or not. Personally, I just don't want you around until the buzz surrounding today's screw-up blows over. By tomorrow some of the speculation will have died down and we can get back to doing our jobs." Darren only halfway bought the explanation being handed to him, but he knew the futility of arguing with a direct command. He simply nodded like a good soldier and took his leave to see if his partner's healing abilities were really as miraculous as he'd been led to believe. [Back to Table of Contents] 58

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Chapter Four "You're not going to believe this," Tara warned Darren as he stalked into her infirmary. Her brogue was more pronounced by the shock expressed in her voice, and she appeared disturbed by the news she was about to present. The entire ward seemed to be buzzing with activity as orderlies and nurses headed in every direction, chattering in voices laced with awe and disbelief. Darren did notice that no matter where the staff headed, they always returned to the same wing and most likely the same room. The one currently occupied by his brat partner. "Tell me," he commanded in his usual arrogant tone that always achieved results, except perhaps with the object of his irritation. He found it suddenly hard to keep his pace to a sedate walk instead of the full-out run his body ached to justify. The private room they'd moved Tanner to was located in an otherwise empty hall, to ensure him optimal peace and quiet to rest and recover. The room itself was decorated with an understated, simple elegance that was a far cry from the sterile surroundings of most hospital wards on Earth. The bed was a standard hospital cart with guardrails to protect the patient, but the walls were wallpapered in a pastel seashell print and the paintings on them were part of a soothing beach landscape collection. Even the fresh flowers that covered every available surface were tied into the ocean theme that was unique to this room. 59

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Darren had been disgusted with himself upon his first visit to Tanner in this glittering cage, because he'd known that the kid would absolutely love his surroundings when he was conscious enough to appreciate them. How did a person come to know the likes and dislikes of another so well without desiring or trying to? He followed Dr. O'Connor through the catacomb hallways of her domain, listening the entire time to her rambling on about Tanner's astounding feat of regaining consciousness so soon after such a trauma to his system. She rattled off some statistics and probabilities that would have been a lot more impressive if he wasn't so intent on seeing his partner awake with his own eyes. When they reached Tanner's room, he entered to find his partner not only conscious, but propped up against a mountain of pillows. He exhaled an enormous breath he had not been aware of holding. With his peripheral awareness, he heard Tara dismissing the nursing staff and giving him information about how long he could visit for before exiting herself. But that was all background noise to the main feature playing on the big screen in his mind, which was Tanner smiling at him without a hint of pain on his face. As he approached the bed, he noticed the weariness that dulled some of the sparkle in his partner's enormously expressive eyes, and the hunch of the shoulders that betrayed the weakness Tanner's body was still fighting. His usually shiny locks were dull and matted at the moment as well, and the hospital gown revealed the slender lines of his 60

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body that appeared too gaunt against his other pallid features. All together, he was in desperate need of a bath and a night's rest in a bed with an actual mattress, but he was awake. Against enormous odds, he was functioning again within several hours of almost having been declared dead on arrival. The event fell under the heading of "miraculous," according to Darren, and he had already been shocked in his lifetime with such revelations as there being an actual Heaven and Hell, and avatars for both. Seeing the brat alive and whole released a floodgate of fear within Darren that picked up the speed of a flash flood and broke in a tidal wave of anger. He could not show his relief that Tanner had survived, only the fiery rage that was welling up and searching for an outlet. It didn't help that despite the brat's obviously weakened state, and his less than appealing personal hygiene, all Darren could think about was shoving his tongue into that mouth over and over until they were both gasping for air. He wanted to learn all the sensitive areas that would make Tanner squirm and beg to be fucked. He wondered if the kid's nipples were as sensitive as a woman's, and if he could get Tanner to scream by flicking his tongue over a sensitive nub. Damn him. Tanner should not have this much power, especially not lying in a hospital bed, a few breaths away from having been dead a second time. "I guess you got what you deserved for your insubordination. Maybe next time you'll listen to your senior partner's plan instead of running off and getting your ass 61

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kicked." The voice Darren used was anything but friendly, and a part of his mind was astounded that he was being such a bastard to the young man, no matter the surrounding circumstances. "Better my ass than yours," Tanner responded with irritating calm, and a ghost of his usually high-charged smile. He seemed unaffected by Darren's intentionally hurtful words, as if he could see past the bravado to the heart-stopping fear that motivated the brutish behavior. That pissed Darren off more than anything. How dare the brat think it was all right to get to know him, to learn what he loved and what he hated? He'd never asked anyone to care about him or to get close to him. The knowledge that someone had, that his barriers were useless, was like a bomb going off inside his fortified emotional walls. "The Chief is removing you from this case. He's going to pair you with another agent until after I catch the serial killer." Technically it wasn't his place to inform Tanner about his change in assignments. Most assuredly the Chief planned to do that himself after Tanner was released from the hospital, but Darren didn't want to be the only one caught off guard in that hospital room. He needed something to get under the kid's skin and get him as riled up as he was feeling. "The Chief wouldn't do that. He knows I have special skills to bring to this case," Tanner argued, the range of his voice rising and his hands balling into fists in the white sheet that covered his thin body.

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"I'm not aware of what special skills you are referring to, but Reed is confident I can solve this case with another operative besides yourself. I do have experience in this area." "But I can really help! I know I screwed up last time, but now that I know what we're up against, he won't get the drop on me again. You can talk the Chief into keeping me on this assignment. He'd listen to your judgment." "I agreed with him." Tanner's eyes went from full of hope, to disbelief, and then to anger when Darren's words sunk in all the way. The senior agent nearly doubled over from the wounded look of betrayal that was being broadcast straight into his chest. "Why would you do that? Are you that mad at me for trying to be friends with you that you'd stick me with someone else?" "Tanner, you almost died. Somehow you survived and came back fighting, but you still need more time to recuperate. This case has to be solved within a short time frame, one that has been accelerated thanks to us spooking the killer in that church. He won't hesitate much longer to capture his victim and kill her. You taking part in the case now, in your injured state, will only slow it down and possibly cost a woman her life. Is that what you want?" Darren knew his words were blunt to the point of painful, but he refused to pull his punches. Whatever personal reasons he had for wanting the kid with him, the truth of the matter was that the Chief was right. The brat needed to recover and this case needed to be solved as soon as inhumanly possible. And if his 63

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heart had to be sliced open by the utter look of despair on his partner's elfin face, then so be it. "Who is he putting you with?" It surprised Darren that the kid would ask who was moving into Unit Hawk instead of what unit they were going to put him into temporarily, but it really shouldn't have. Of all the agents in their division, Tanner was the least egocentric by far. "Probably Sakura Mihato from Unit Elf. She's the calmest of the bunch and the least likely to crumble going head to head with a demon." Tanner nodded and continued to do origami with the cotton sheet on his bed. He appeared to shrivel into himself before Darren's intent regard. The spark of life that had radiated when Darren first entered seemed extinguished. "That means I'll be with Steven," Tanner commented in a neutral voice. "You two will get along fine. Everyone around here likes you." "Even you?" the kid asked in a small voice, his eyes still downcast. "Our relationship is a little more complicated than simple like and dislike." Darren's throat felt dry and his palms felt sweaty. He didn't want to be having this conversation right now, but he was loath to leave and lose his last chance to see the kid for the night. "Only because you make it so. It could be so easy if you'd listen to what your body wants." Darren was suddenly pinned in place by a pair of haunting blue eyes that were holding 64

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nothing back. All the longing and temptation that he'd been fighting since they were thrown together was mirrored in those innocent eyes, exposed for him to see. "My body doesn't know what's best for me," he heard his deep voice answer, even as he moved closer to the guardrail that separated him from the small, firm body he couldn't stop noticing. "Well, your mind sure seems clueless." Tanner's tongue slipped from between his slightly bruised lips and ran over the parted flesh until they were wet and glistening. His eyes were heavy-lidded, forcing him to stare up at Darren from beneath dark, sooty lashes. "This is going to hurt." Darren didn't know if his warning was for the damaged body he was about to ravage or his own heart that was warning him of the consequences of such foolish actions. Either way, he couldn't stop what the incubus before him had unleashed. "I don't care," Tanner whispered as he reached a slender hand behind Darren's head and forced their lips together. All Darren could think about was how hot, wet and good it was. Tanner's lips were dry and cracked from his neardehydrated state, but his tongue was moist as it lapped at Darren's bottom lip and begged for entrance. Darren sucked it into his mouth and teased it with his own, running them together and then retreating back so that the smaller tongue had to follow. He heard a groan vibrate from Tanner into his mouth as he bit down on the ripe flesh and licked the hurt away. 65

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Darren's hands were as busy as his mouth. They found their way into the back of the nearly translucent gown that dwarfed the small body beneath it and slid over warm, tempting skin. Each hand found a small, pink nipple and teased and pinched it until it was hard and Tanner's whole body was vibrating with need. He was amused to find out they were as sensitive as a woman's. Tanner gasped and broke their heated kiss when Darren clamped down on a nipple with his fingers and began pulling the sensitive nub. His large eyes slammed shut as the sensation that was almost pain overrode everything else. His mouth hung open, and little whimpering sounds of surrender escaped as he gave his body over to the pleasure of being touched so intimately in a public place. Darren knew that someone could walk in on them any time, but that didn't stop the pulsing need that cascaded through his body and hardened his heavy cock. The sight of the golden angel on the bed before him turning into a complete wanton from his ministrations was like a tight fist stroking his hard-on. He watched the closed eyes, the hands holding on to his forearms for balance, and the hips lifting off the bed with a heated detachment. He liked what he saw, and he damn well wanted to see their play through to the end. He wanted to be coated with Tanner's fluid when the kid lost all control and exploded. He didn't even care if he came in his pants like a teenager, he was that far gone. One hand continued to torture a swollen nipple while the other slid down the smooth spine of his willing captive to the 66

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part of his tempting backside. His fingers slid into the crack of that tender flesh and ringed the responsive muscle inside. Tanner let out a strangled cry at the sensation and his hips bucked off the bed. "Please," he begged in a breathy, labored voice. "Did you like that?" Darren responded, his voice just as gone. He could feel his balls tightening and realized that coming in his pants was a very real possibility. "Yes. Please, more." That was all the siren in his arms could communicate before he was racked with another shudder of pleasure. Darren removed the hand that had been caressing a nipple and used it to hold Tanner's head in place while he invaded the kid's mouth again. His other hand continued to rub the sensitive entrance to Tanner's bottom, diving teasingly into the hole just a little bit before withdrawing. He knew enough about gay sex to realize he couldn't penetrate his partner without some kind of lubrication. Tanner seemed like he was about to come apart before Darren's eyes. His hips were now rocking to a fast rhythm, and he had one hand wrapped around his stiff flesh, pumping it, while the other still held on to Darren's arm and kept himself from collapsing on to the bed. Their tongues continued to fight each other for dominance of the kiss, not really caring who won as long as they got to come. Darren felt very close to the edge himself. The feel of Tanner's smooth ass beneath his fingers and his tight, hot entrance was too much. It was hard not to imagine driving his large dick into that opening, which would squeeze him like a 67

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fist and pump every last drop of ejaculate out of him. It would be better than any of the women he'd ever fucked. "Is everything all right in there?" The nasal, feminine voice that came out of the speaker box on the wall next to Tanner's bed was like a gunshot exploding into the room. Darren immediately released the panting man in his arms and jumped back from the bed a few feet. He looked around for the person who had spoken, before realizing the source of the voice. Tanner's eyes slowly opened and blinked away the pleasure haze that was clouding his vision. He looked so desirable, his lips swollen from Darren's mouth crushing them, his pupils dilated until they looked like novelty contacts. His hand was still around his fading erection, but it was no longer moving, and his other hand was shaking on top of the sheets. Darren pressed the button on the intercom that would allow him to speak back to the nurse that had interrupted them. "Everything is fine." "Okay. The heart monitor is going nuts and I wanted to make sure Mr. Simms wasn't going into shock again. Dr. O'Connor is on the way to check in on him." "We'll be waiting." Darren's voice sounded ragged to his own ears, but he doubted the stranger noticed. He felt like the world's worst investigative officer, not having noticed the piece of equipment attached to the room's wall for the purpose of monitoring the patient who was still in critical care. He glanced at Tanner and noticed the blush staining his 68

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cheeks, and the embarrassed smile that betrayed the brat's own feelings about being caught off guard like that. Darren just couldn't think straight around the brat. Away from Tanner, he was a cold, accurate, precise bastard whose control was unshakeable. He could make women and children cry without a twinge of conscience, or shoot someone as easily as hitting the "on" switch for an appliance. Around his partner, he was distracted, vulnerable, and his attention span was nonexistent. He was a mess. A big, uncontrollable mess with raging hormones and a constant hard-on. And he hated feeling out of control. He hated the implications of him nearly having sex with his partner in a well-lit, open hospital room where anyone could find them, and nearly had. If that nurse hadn't called to check on Tanner and broken the kid's sensual spell, Dr. O'Connor would have walked in to find them sucking face and getting each other off. Darren couldn't deal with the myriad feelings ricocheting around his body. His arousal had deflated, but his body was still full of adrenaline and frustration from being taken to the edge and refused his release. His mind couldn't sort out how he had let things progress so far between the two of them, especially since he wasn't gay. He couldn't deny he apparently found his partner attractive, damn near addictive, but that didn't mean he was gay. He certainly didn't want to tie himself to the kid, or anyone else, for the rest of eternity. What he needed was some distance and time alone to sort out the mess his personal life had suddenly become. And for 69

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the first time in a long while, he needed time to masturbate, too, since he would feel edgy and incomplete until he did. He paced to the single window provided in the room, and put as much distance between the two of them as he could without leaving the room. Tanner didn't speak, but Darren could hear his breathing evening out, and the sound of the sheets being rearranged to cover any evidence of their sexual exploits. The sound of heels clicking down the tile hallway alerted them that the doctor was nearly there. Darren remained at the window, his poker face forcibly back on. **** "Hello, Tanner. How are you feeling?" The smile Tara offered her patient was warm and sincere as she approached the bed and prepared to check his vital signs. She genuinely liked the kid, just as she genuinely found his cold partner to be unpalatable. She didn't bother greeting the large form which was brooding by the window, as she continued her casual exam. "Tired, a little achy, but better than when I first woke up. When can I go home?" The excited question caught her off guard, and she bit her full lips as she decided the best way to let the kid down easy. She felt the looming presence next to her before she saw it. Darren didn't speak, merely stood by and watched her perform the exam, as if checking for malpractice. His arrogance had always been a turn off to her, and the healthy tempers they both possessed, though his was like a cold so intense it burned instead of the open flame of her 70

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own, made civil conversation a strain. She liked to tease him and see how far she could push, but there was no depth to their sparring matches. The only redeeming quality she saw in him was his protective instincts toward his partner. She had never seen him so openly worried as when he brought Tanner to them in his arms. He'd clutched the motionless body tightly to his chest, and she'd had to talk soothingly to him before he would hand the wounded body over. She would have claimed there were tears in his dark as night eyes, if she didn't already know that was beyond impossible. It was too bad he was such an infuriating prick, because he was nicely put together. No other male agent could match his large, toned body that was roped with muscles from physical labor, and not just sculpted from hours spent in the gym. His black hair and raven eyes lent a dangerous, sexy appeal to the pale, angular planes of his face and square jaw line. He was what women meant when they said they wanted tall, dark and handsome. His partner, her patient, on the other hand, was day to Darren's night. Tanner was a sun-kissed angel, all golden skin and baby blue eyes. His hair looked like it was streaked with highlights from hours spent on the beach, and it was always a shaggy, unkempt mess that tangled in his eyes and stuck up in odd patches. She knew his age to be nineteen, but the rounded shape of his face and feminine features made him look younger, and his petite form didn't help that illusion. He was muscled as well, but he didn't have the mass of his older 71

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partner. Instead of looking like a boxer, he looked more like a martial artist. Tara lifted one of Tanner's slender wrists in her hand and checked his pulse. It was a little fast, but not abnormally so. His eyes had been oddly dilated when she entered, but they appeared to be contracting so she could see the amazing azure hidden behind. Everything else she checked appeared to be normal. Perhaps he'd just been upset by something his visiting partner had said or done, which wouldn't be a big surprise. "Dr. O'Connor?" Tanner's worried voice reminded her that she hadn't yet answered his question. "It's hard to predict. Right now your vitals are good. You've made amazing progress, and I have no doubts you'll eventually recover fully. However, this odd resilience of yours does worry me. You could suffer a relapse or there could be complications from treatment due to these unknown factors. I won't feel safe releasing you until after a week of observation, at least." She knew she was in trouble when the kid's eyes grew even wider, and appeared dewy with the sheen of tears that suddenly filled them. His pouty lips trembled, a warning that his sadness was about to overcome him. Damn, she knew what he was doing, and she still felt herself succumbing. Her resolve was weakening in the face of his doe-like innocence. Saying "no" would feel like kicking Bambi, but she had to try and keep a professional distance. If she let the kid steamroll her now, she would lose her 72

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authority with him for the rest of her practicing days with this division. "It's hard for me to get a good night's sleep in an unfamiliar place like this. I'll promise to do whatever you ask, follow a special diet regimen, come in for daily checkups, whatever it takes, if you'll just let me go home." "You haven't even been moved out of the critical care unit yet. It would be against hospital policy to release you. I can move you into another room and downgrade your case to routine care, but you still have to stay here for observation." Tanner chewed on his lips in thought as she checked his monitoring equipment to see that everything was functioning properly. She happened to glance at Darren as she made her rounds, and noticed an odd smirk on his face. He was staring at Tanner, and his eyes held a light of amusement that she'd never seen there before. If it was possible for him to find something funny, was it also possible for him to cry? She was pondering his strange changes in character when Tanner came at her with round two. "What if I were to be released into someone's care?" Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Darren's body snap to rigid attention, and it was her turn to be amused. "Like a home health aide?" "No, just a friend. If I were to stay with a friend, they could keep an eye on me as I recovered and transfer me to the hospital if anything happened." It wasn't a good idea, but it wasn't awful. Especially since she had a feeling that the "friend" Tanner was speaking of 73

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was a man she couldn't resist tormenting with babysitting duty. The most important question was whether it was the best scenario for her patient. It was true that they couldn't do more for Tanner here in overnight care that daily hospital visits couldn't cover. His internal bleeding had stopped and the inflammation and burns were gone. She still had no idea how that had been accomplished, but they'd done more than enough x-rays and MRIs to see the proof. What he needed now more than anything was rest, and nourishing food. She didn't see a reason why he couldn't be allowed to rest with a friend who was willing to keep an eye on him, and enforce his bed rest periods and the strict diet she would provide. Would Darren Cox be the right man for that job? He definitely was unflinching, and scary enough to keep the kid obedient, but did his caring extend to matters that would inconvenience his carefree, bachelor lifestyle? "Did you have a friend in mind?" "No." Darren's monotone reply was made before Tanner's and in an inflexible tone. "But you have all that extra room in your suite. I could sleep on your couch. You wouldn't even know I was there." "I have to go to work on the high security, top priority case you just got damaged on. I don't have time to stay at home and baby-sit you." "I could go into the office with you and work at my desk during the day. Then I could take my naps and rest more in the evening. We can make it work. It would be worth it if I could get out of here. I don't want to be alone here anymore." Tanner's heart-felt plea ended with his voice 74

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shaking and tears forming on his long eyelashes. Tara couldn't tell if it was an act or real emotion, but either way her heart was turning over in her chest and her fingers were itching to sign his release forms. "That plan will never work. The Chief won't agree to you returning to the office so soon, and I can't be distracted by worrying about you while I'm trying to work. It would be better for everyone if you just stayed here." "You would be worrying about me?" The sweet smile that transformed the sadness on Tanner's face into a blooming flower of hope made any objection Tara could have voiced obsolete. Darren might be a selfish ass without the slightest clue of how to nurture another human being, but being with him made her patient visibly brighten. She knew Tanner had a higher chance of recovering quickly if he was surrounded by things that made him happy, and for some strange reason his stoic partner was one of those things. "Dr. O'Connor, would you please explain to him, using whatever sophisticated medical terminology you feel appropriate, why it would be a really bad idea for him to leave this place?" Tara smiled at her patient, and the knowing glint in Tanner's eyes told her he knew she had come over to his side. It was now two against one, and she fought dirty. She'd learned on the streets of Dublin in her youth that the only way you got what you wanted was to take it. Seeing Tanner's performance up to this point assured her that he was likeminded in his pursuit of the things he desired. 75

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"I refuse to let him stay with me. Nothing you can say will change my mind." Darren's voice was strong and infallible as he made his claim, but he stepped away from the bed as if making his escape. Gotcha, Tara thought as they launched a final assault. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Five Tanner's first evening in his senior partner's home didn't go as smoothly as he had envisioned while lying in his uncomfortable hospital bed and counting the minutes until Darren had finally come to visit. Darren complained about everything, starting the moment he arrived with an orderly to carry in some of his necessities, and continuing throughout the process of finding space for said items. He didn't know why it was so hard to fathom the appropriateness of bringing a few extra changes of clothes, his hygiene products, some blankets from home, and a few other items to entertain himself. He was, after all, going to be spending his free time away from the familiar comforts of his own suite. Under the circumstances, bringing his comic book collection, card games, movies and CDs could only be expected. Too bad Darren didn't see the logic and demanded an explanation for the bags of 'junk' that were being carried into his 'once clean and orderly' apartment. He definitely wasn't one to go with the flow. The reasons Tanner presented for all his comfort items didn't appease the uncharacteristically volatile man in the slightest, and he'd banged out of his apartment muttering something about going to Earth for a drink. Tanner had just smiled and continued to unpack. It surprised him that the private man would leave the apartment and all of his personal possessions open to scrutiny, even if Tanner had pushed him beyond the limits of his patience. Darren had the territoriality of a lone wolf, and it 77

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would not be exaggerating to expect him to close off his room with yellow crime scene tape. Darren's oversight was Tanner's gain. He had every intention of rummaging through his partner's belongings and finding information about Darren's former life on Earth. He knew a little about the older man's history, basically what he could glean from the other agents in their division, which was not much. Darren discouraged chitchat of any kind, especially of a personal nature, and so the facts that had been passed around were whispered in empty rooms and never repeated with an audience exceeding one. The fountain of his knowledge concerning Darren Cox contained a few facts that could be found in a public records file cabinet, and were far from the intimate details a lover might possess. He knew the man had been an assassin for the Central Intelligence Agency, which pretty much canceled out any chance of a social life, and that he had been killed on one of his assignments by a rival agent. His job on Earth had been similar to the job he had now. Both profited in the black and white wonderland of dealing death. Darren was just farther down the assembly line now than he used to be. Tanner had also found out that Darren's childhood had been far from the picturesque scenes of a family sitcom filmed in the seventies. He'd been a ward of the state since the tender age of seven, when his prostitute mother ran off with her latest flame. She never knew the identity of Darren's father, having been too high most of the time to remember the names and faces of the countless men she screwed. Through the years Darren had been bounced from one foster 78

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home to another, no one wanting to adopt the boy who could not accept or return affection. Judging from family history alone, and not taking into account what a career as a government hit man had done to him, it was fairly easy to see why Darren hated emotions and avoided them at all cost. In his experience, they were unpredictable, harmful things that ruined lives with their irresponsible whims. Tanner hadn't survived a peachy childhood either, but his defense against the world's cruelty had been a smile instead of a cold shoulder. He wouldn't let people see how they hurt him, and had learned to endure the pain without as much as a flinch. To each his own armor. Tanner placed the last CD on the now-overcrowded entertainment stand in the living room, and made up his mind to snoop before the demon hunter returned. He scanned his temporary home again as he traveled back toward the bedroom, still startled by the way it blended with the temperament of its owner. The Agency's employee apartments all came fully furnished, due to the fact that most people didn't bring matching furniture sets and other such things with them when they crossed over. A resident had the option of redecorating however they wished, but Tanner had a feeling his reserved partner would not waste his time or salary on a trivial thing like refurnishing the place where he kept from sleeping between work shifts. The living room was decorated with a couch and matching chairs in a modern design, thin and rounded along the edges, upholstered in a black and white marbleized suede material. 79

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The pictures, vases, and other accoutrements were either black or white, giving the room a severe, sterile appearance. Dust would not dream of settling on any surface in that room. He had to admit that the white carpet made his fingers tingle whenever he carried a drink or snack out of the small kitchen, which was divided from his quasi-room by a breakfast bar. He was a clumsy person by nature, as his various bumps and bruises proved, and he knew that Darren could not care less if his pristine carpet was splattered with some permanent stain. It was the principal of such an act that bothered him. His senior partner expected him to be clumsy, and he desperately wanted to prove the man wrong about something. He truly intended to be as little a nuisance as possible while he forced his company on the other man. Of course, this pledge excluded seducing the tall Receiver. From the moment he woke to a white, textured ceiling and the smell of antiseptic, the first thought in his aching head, besides finding cessation from the blinding pain in his body, was for the safety of his partner. He'd been worried about the state of the older man to the point of using the basin by his bed. It was not until Dr. O'Connor came in to check on him, and replayed the scene Darren had made barging into her infirmary, coddling Tanner's limp form in his arms, that he was able to relax and allow the pain medication pumping through his veins to take effect. By the time Darren had shown up in the flesh to purge his conscience, Tanner was climbing the walls trying to figure out some way for them to get closer. Dr. O'Connor unintentionally provided him with the perfect solution with her hesitation to 80

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release him. He hadn't been joking when he claimed his sleep would be affected negatively by remaining an in-patient, no matter how soothing and pastel his room. This way he got the best of both worlds. He could spend as much time with his growing obsession as their work schedules allowed, and at the same time escape the type of environment he had spent too much time in as a child. Hospitals did not hold good memories for him. The journey from the outer room to the door of Darren's private quarters wasn't a long one, but it still managed to wind him. He could feel a fine sheen of sweat forming on his still-waxy skin, and his limbs trembled from the exertion of putting one foot in front of the other. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, panting and regrouping. He had come a long way from the agonized mess he remembered upon regaining consciousness. His insides had felt the way a candle must after being burned down and then cooled into a lumpy, malformed mess. Every nerve in his body had felt like it had been scraped raw by a shaving knife, and there hadn't been a single drop of moisture left anywhere in his brittle form. Needless to say, his recovery from that sad state to being able to walk around under his own power really was quite impressive. He knew the extraordinary details of his history gifted him with the ability to heal at an alarming rate, even for the undead, but he hadn't realized to what extent. These abilities had never been put through that rigorous a test. Now he knew exactly how much damage he could take and still 81

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come back to kick ass another day. The knowledge made him smile, even as he fought to bolster his weakened body. The turning of the doorknob that led to his partner's room coincided perfectly with a loud ringing noise that had him pausing in a cold sweat. Did Darren have his room alarmed? Is that why he felt no qualms about leaving someone he had made it clear he didn't trust alone with his otherworldly belongings? When the clanging noise sounded again without him turning the doorknob, Tanner realized that what he was hearing was the doorbell. Laughing at himself for such a stupid misconception, he slowly plodded back to the front door. He hoped he'd reach the entrance before whoever was on the other side grew impatient and walked away. Any person who would come to visit his antisocial partner was someone he wanted to meet. He was also honest enough to admit that his possessive streak insisted he verify there wasn't some girl from their agency waiting on the other side, her head full of the silly notion that she would be the one to make the afterlife worth living for a certain icy, dark-haired man. That job was already taken, thank you very much. As his brand of luck would have it, Darren's patron was persistent enough to ring the bell twice more before Tanner swung the door open. The visitor waiting on the other side was far from the google-eyed, inexperienced office girl he had pictured. "You look like hell, kid. I guess all the rumors going around the office are true." 82

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Tanner smiled through his confusion and stepped aside to let Steven Carlisle enter. The playboy was on Darren's list of most annoying people, so it made no sense for him to be showing up at the door. He probably shouldn't even allow him into the living room, but Tanner was disappointed that Darren had run out on their first night together, and lonely, and it wasn't in his nature to be rude to someone who had treated him decently. "What have people been saying?" "That you had a run in with a demon, and even the high and mighty Darren Cox hadn't been able to keep you from nearly being broiled alive." Tanner shrugged at the condescending tone Steven used when describing Darren. It would do no good to deny the man's description, especially when it was so accurate. He might be attracted to the senior Retriever, maybe even something more than lust, but he wasn't blind to his partner's character faults. "That's about what I remember. I sure did feel like an overdone steak when I came to in the hospital." Steven laughed at his effort to close the subject and began moving around the room, his judgmental gaze moving from one piece to another in the spacious living area. He seemed surprisingly pleased with most of what he saw. Tanner remembered that Steven had grown up the son of a wealthy United States Senator on Earth, and figured he was probably used to expensive, untouchable baubles. As Steven was making his inspection, Tanner was scrutinizing him. Tanner really hadn't spent much time with 83

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the older man, except for friendly chitchat at the office that rarely strayed beyond work topics. There were so many differences in their lives before death, and their outlooks on life, but Tanner didn't see these as reasons why they couldn't be friends. If he could put up with pure, undiluted dislike from the man who turned him on, he could certainly tolerate a shallow, egotistical ladies' man who rarely had more on his mind than his next day off and who would be in his bed sharing it. And there were moments, so brief that Tanner almost thought he imagined them, when Steven's eyes would lose their teasing glimmer, and his full lips would thin into a hard line, and it was clear there were dark things surfacing out of the gloom of his unspoken past. Those brief glimpses of the darkness inside the blond man convinced Tanner that there were secrets surrounding him that would completely alter his coworkers' opinions of him. But then his face would resume its normal mask and he would be flitting about aggravating everyone within range once more. Whatever hidden depths the man possessed, he seemed determined they remained hidden. "I'm here because Darren 'asked' me to touch base with you about our upcoming partnership, in his usual gorilla fashion. I was shocked he'd allow my unworthy presence into his sanctuary, but it appears you have the ability to make the Ice Man act like something other than a complete Neanderthal." Steven's lazy tone matched his body as he gracefully collapsed onto the couch, his body language declaring his intention to stay awhile. 84

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Tanner seated himself on the opposite end of the couch with a lot less poise, and stamped down his disappointment at not being able to ransack his partner's room. Surely there would be another opportunity, now that they were living together. "I have to say I'm surprised he's taken you in. He's far from the mothering type." "He really didn't want me here. I kinda forced myself on him." "Really? Well, good for you, kid. That guy needs something to shake him up. Can't say I understand why you'd want to be around him more than you have to, but I'm a devout hedonist. Pain isn't my thing." Tanner returned Steven's smirk with a blush, inexplicably embarrassed as he recalled all the gorgeous, curvy women he'd witnessed the playboy kissing while on duty. The man's intentionally careless appearance and laissez faire attitude seemed to draw the ladies like a blow-out sale at a department store. Steven was a handsome man, with his layered, shaggy, dirty blond hair and alarmingly green eyes. He also had an attractive body, one that was muscled in the right places and tanned all over. He didn't have the dark, dangerous appeal of Darren, but brooding wasn't for everyone. "So, we're officially partners now?" Tanner tried to disguise his distress at that idea, but his voice was too soft to be convincing. "It's not official yet. The Chief hasn't called us into his office for a talk. But Darren believes it to be official, which is 85

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just as good. That guy's a celebrity in the division. Gets whatever he wants." And some things he doesn't even know he wants yet, Tanner added in his head. "Anyway, you'll finally get to have some fun at this job. Unit Elf doesn't get the high priority assignments that His Mighty Deadness rates, but that just means there's more time for perks. I'm certainly looking forward to getting away from Sakura for awhile. She was always cramping my style with her disapproving scowls. She also makes this sound in her throat when she is angry; it's not very attractive. And not once has she let me go to a strip joint while visiting Earth, not even after our case is wrapped up. She and Darren deserve each other." Tanner listened to the self-absorbed man drone on about all the things they could get away with while partnered together, and found it easier and easier to forget that Steven was eight years older than him. Even after dying from alcohol poisoning at the young age of twenty-seven, the man seemed convinced one couldn't party too much. "How does that sound, kid?" "Fine." His unenthusiastic response seemed to be the cue for Steven to leave. It was no shock that Steven didn't want to remain where no one was fawning all over him. "I better be going. Darren will be back soon, and I'd like to avoid my verbal thrashing for the night." Tanner smiled at the man's accurate description of his and Darren's social interaction. He also realized that he didn't 86

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want to be alone again. Not even the opportunity to search the neighboring bedroom was incentive enough to be in a silent apartment. "Do you really have to go? I know you don't want to see Darren, but it's so boring here by myself. I brought a deck of cards with me. We could do a few hands of poker." "You can play poker, kid?" "I'm not as young as I look," Tanner responded with dry amusement. He might have died a virgin, but that was only because no one had interested him enough to put forth the effort of losing his virginity, and he'd had much bigger issues to worry about. He definitely didn't intend to remain a virgin much longer. Especially now that his body had decided to want something, someone, to the point of madness. "What other hidden gifts might you have?" Steven's tone was flirty, and he leaned a little too close to Tanner as he spoke, but Tanner ignored his outrageous seduction attempts. There was no way the man could be anything but a heterosexual. Anyone who worshipped the female body the way Steven did might cast his nets in male waters, but had no intention of reeling them in. They relaxed into their game in the living room, with Steven sitting on the couch and Tanner on the floor on the opposite side of the black mahogany coffee table. Tanner made some of the popcorn he'd brought over and they drank his sodas, even though Steven had whined for something with alcohol in it. They had to make do with whatever he'd been 87

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able to snag from his apartment, as Darren didn't eat or drink anymore. It was nice to be around someone who was determined to enjoy what had become of their life, and who wasn't hell bent on setting endurance records. Steven had an impressive repertoire of jokes, most of them dirty, and all of them guaranteed to make a young man roll over laughing. Soon an hour and a half had gone by, and Tanner's body was close to collapsing with exhaustion, but his spirits had lifted considerably. And it didn't matter if he felt empty inside. He might not feel complete without his partner's disapproving presence looming around him, but at least he could laugh and look like he was enjoying himself. They were just starting another round of cards when the apartment door banged open and Darren entered with a frown as long as Route 66. He took one look at Steven making himself at home, and the creases around his mouth deepened. When he saw Tanner sitting on the floor, his expression turned livid and he slammed the door shut behind him with a resounding bang. His normally impeccable suit was wrinkled and dirty, while his short straight hair managed to look disheveled. It was clear he hadn't visited the upscale drink bars Earth had to offer. "What the hell are you still doing up?" Darren demanded in his commanding voice. No matter what he looked like, he wasn't drunk. Either that or his drunkenness had been evaporated by the fury he made no attempt to hide. 88

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"It's my fault, Darren. We were playing cards and I didn't bother to watch the time. You know me." Steven offered a self-deprecating smile as he helped Tanner put the cards back into their box. Tanner couldn't understand why Steven was trying to protect him, or why Steven thought he needed it. He wasn't afraid of Darren's blustering. At least if the man was mad, he was being real and not shutting Tanner out behind a mask of frozen apathy. "I know exactly how irresponsible you are, Carlisle, but Tanner isn't a child. He can make his own bad decisions, as he's proving right now." "Sure, now you say he isn't a child, but you still call him a 'kid' and a 'brat' and treat him like a lower form of life." The expression on Darren's face could only be compared to a nuclear blast. It was bad enough that Steven dared to correct him, but that Steven had done it on Darren's turf, and in front of his partner, was obviously unacceptable. The look on Steven's face reflected his awareness that he had crossed some invisible line, and he promptly made preparations to retreat from the apartment with his tail between his legs. He might have been a risk taker, but he wasn't suicidal. "I'll leave you two to your lover's spat. I'll see you at the office tomorrow, kid. And if you need a place to stay, my door is always open." His parting words made Tanner wonder if his temporary partner was more aware of the reason for the tension between them than he'd let on, but then he was gone from the room and from Tanner's thoughts. All he could see was 89

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Darren, his tie gone and dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck to reveal a tantalizing peak of pale skin and dark hair. Tanner wasn't turned off by a hairy chest. He liked the idea of having something to stroke his fingers through as he drove his lover crazy. "You shouldn't be so rude to him, you know. He was only checking on me like you asked." Tanner's words were free of the anger that was rolling off his partner in waves. He knew the way to escalate Darren's emotions until he couldn't control them anymore was to act unaffected, and he definitely wanted Darren to lose control. "I wanted him to prepare you for your new assignment together, not teach you to gamble until you exhausted yourself." "He didn't teach me poker, I already knew how to play. And he would have left a long time ago if I hadn't asked him to stay." "You asked him to stay? I thought you wanted to stay out of the hospital, not be emergency-transferred after collapsing." "I didn't push myself that much," Tanner lied. "And you could have prevented this whole situation if you'd stayed home and watched me like you told Dr. O'Connor you would." Now Tanner was fighting dirty. He was hitting his partner where it would cause the most damage by attacking his sense of responsibility. It might not be right or fair, but he'd been craving the man's touch for hours now, and he might really collapse if he didn't feel it soon. 90

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Darren advanced on him until he could grip Tanner's thin arms just below the shoulders and hold him in place for the reprimand that was coming. His murderous expression said he'd like nothing better than to shake the body in his grasp until it snapped like a twig in a tornado, but Tanner wasn't afraid. Darren had far too much control to hurt him physically, even if he did let his words cut deep enough to draw blood. "You have a lot of nerve, brat. First you get yourself invited to my apartment, and then you decide to make it your own with all your useless crap. Now you expect me to stay here and baby-sit you in the apartment you've ransacked?" "Why did you have Steven come check on me?" The sudden change of subject confused Darren enough to end his tirade and slacken the bruising grip he had on Tanner's biceps. Tanner wanted to rub some circulation back into the reddened flesh, but to do so would mean displacing the large hands that still held him tentatively, and he wouldn't break the contact for anything as minor as physical discomfort. "I gave my word to Dr. O'Connor that you would be looked after in my care," Darren answered as if talking to a simpleton. "So it had nothing to do with your personal feelings. You just didn't want an Irish banshee breathing down your neck?" Tanner tried to make his tone light and teasing, but he'd already raised his hopes that Darren might have forced the playboy to visit out of some personal concern for his partner. It might be too much to ask that the stoic man admit to 91

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feeling something other than disgust so soon into his seduction foray, but his heart was not a rational entity. Darren dropped his hands and took a step back, looking disturbed by something he saw on Tanner's face. Tanner nearly winced from the loss of contact and had to bite his lip to keep from begging Darren to hold him. "Look, kid, you're my partner, and no matter how I might feel, it's my responsibility to watch your back. Lately, some things have happened between us that I can't explain, and honestly I'd rather forget about. You're welcome to stay until you've recovered, but there can't be anything between us beyond a working relationship. Anything else would be a liability in the field. Got it?" Tanner nodded dejectedly, even as his heart tore loose from his chest and splattered all over the plush white carpeting at Darren's feet. The older Retriever had been unexpectedly gentle with his rejection, but it was still a rejection, and it left Tanner's heart sorer than all the other muscles in his body put together. Thinking of his body made Tanner realize how dizzy and weak he was feeling. He should have been in bed hours ago, but he'd wanted to see Darren before falling asleep, and now he was paying doubly for his foolishness. "You okay, kid? I think you better go lie down." Tanner nodded again, too exhausted physically and mentally to use words, and took a step toward the couch and the pile of covers arranged on the floor nearby. He managed two paces before his knees buckled and his body slammed toward the floor as a dead weight. 92

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The painful impact he braced himself for never came. Opening his eyes, Tanner became aware of strong arms locked around his waist, holding him above the white sea that swam before his eyes. Black spots started to float around his vision until everything was completely eclipsed by a black haze. When his vision cleared, he was being carried out of the living room and toward the bedroom he had tried to sneak into earlier in the evening. It was too dark to make out any details in the spacious room other than the modest furniture, which included a kingsized bed, a desk with a rolling chair, and a night table that stood beside the bed and perpendicular to the one blinded window that would look out on the manicured lawns of the Agency's land. He was dimly aware of being lowered onto the firm surface of that huge bed, the silky slide of thin cotton sheets against his back. "Darren?" His voice sounded so weak. He attempted to sit up, but none of his muscles would clench. "Be quiet, brat. I brought you in here so you could go to sleep. You passed out in the living room from pushing yourself too hard." The "I told you so" remained unspoken, but Tanner could hear it clearly in the exasperated tone of Darren's voice. He turned his head toward that deep voice, comforted by its husky vibrations and the sight of the large body leaning over him. He felt a roughened hand against his cheek and forehead and would have nuzzled into the touch if his head wasn't throbbing. "Can't take your bed," he murmured, even as sleep began to close in around him. 93

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"Idiot. I don't sleep." That was right. Sleep was another one of the habits that Darren had deemed too human for his current existence. Would he ever let himself be free to enjoy something for no other reason than wanting it? "Stay with me." He whispered the words shamefully, embarrassed by his need for his partner's presence. He felt safer knowing Darren was nearby. Even his bad dreams couldn't pull him under with the fierce Retriever guarding him. "I've got nothing better to do." Tanner smiled at the abrupt words that couldn't dissolve the warm feeling of comfort covering him as surely as the sheets Darren drew up over his body and tucked around his shoulders. A creaking sound alerted him that the large man had sat down in his desk chair and intended to keep his word and stay, at least until he fell asleep. This was not how Tanner wanted them to spend their first night in Darren's bedroom together, but he would take what he could get. At least he had more evidence that his senior partner was not indifferent toward him. The man had carried him with such strength, and gentleness, into the bedroom. Darren could have let Tanner collapse on to the floor and dragged his sorry carcass to the couch to teach him a lesson, but the man hadn't done that. Someday, Tanner vowed, Darren would need him with every fiber of the man's being. Tanner would make him ache in a way that could not be ignored or satisfied by anything but hot, hard sex. But, for now, he would sleep. Tomorrow was 94

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another day to drive the zealously-controlled man beyond the edge of reason. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Six The kid was driving him crazy. They'd only been sharing Darren's apartment for three days now, but his control had been shredded until he could barely keep himself from hauling that lithe body over the nearest available surface and forcing himself into it. And they didn't even spend the larger part of the day in each other's company. They went into the office together, where they separated and Darren checked in with the Chief while Tanner tracked down his wayward, bumbling, stand-in partner. Once his schedule for the day was run past the Chief and cleared, he would travel to Earth with Sakura Mihato to continue tracking the serial killer who still eluded them. Tanner remained at the office, unless sent on some errand disguised as a case, and they didn't see each other again until Darren returned in the evening and they left for his apartment together. So why did he feel surrounded by Tanner's fresh scent all day long? He could practically taste that salty flesh under his tongue, no matter what else he was doing, and it was enough to make the strongest man buckle. He thought his little heart to heart talk with the brat on their first night together would get the message across that he wasn't interested in a relationship, not even a physical one. Trouble was, his body refused to lie like his lips. It knew exactly what it wanted, and it was becoming more agitated the longer it was denied.

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He had to find a way to get the kid out of his apartment before he fucked Tanner into another weakened state and they were stuck together for even longer. Tanner kept his agreement with the flame-haired doctor and visited her hospital daily for exams that proved he was nearly fully recovered, with the exception of weak spells that came over him for no fathomable reason. Since fainting practically into Darren's arms, Tanner had experienced two of those dizzy spells, each with similar symptoms, though they didn't last as long. Darren could tell the unexpected side effect of his demoninduced illness was making Tanner nervous, and yet the kid refused to take it easy and stay home from work a day. He could have easily remained in the apartment, with a home nurse aide to watch him, without their division crumbling. Darren honestly had no idea why the brat insisted on pushing himself. Until those damn weak spells were gone, Darren couldn't kick the pest out without the little speck of conscience he had left reacting in a violent manner. This fact only increased his desire to see Tanner spend a day in bed doing nothing more strenuous than lifting whatever junk he'd decided to eat to his mouth. "Where are you going today?" The object of his frustration chirped the question at Darren as he leaned against his desk. "Mihato and I are going to canvass some more churches in the area surrounding Alicia Brody's house." Tanner insisted on being updated on the serial killer case, even though he was forbidden by Reed to participate in any 97

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way. So far there hadn't been much to tell. Darren and Mihato had returned to the Brody residence several times, each time without sensing the presence of the demon-possessed ghost they were trying to track. They had searched the forest surrounding her house, and visited a few local churches, but the deviant ghost had buried himself deep after their encounter, just as the experienced Retriever expected him to. "Maybe you should take another agent with you, just to be safe. Mihato has no experience dealing with demons." Darren was tempted to roll his eyes at Tanner's meddlesome worrying. It was bad enough he had one person's back to watch out in the field; the last thing he needed was another target tagging alongside, getting in the way of any dark energy bullets meant for him. "That would be a misappropriation of the Agency's resources. I can handle anything we come up against on Earth. Mihato knows how to keep her head down and follow a plan." Tanner blushed at the veiled insult to his impetuous behavior on their last outing together. Darren tried to ignore the way the pink flush on Tanner's skin brought out the blue of his eyes. He also trained his gaze on Tanner's unruly blond locks to keep from noticing the way his loose jeans hung too low on his hips, and how his faded T-shirt was tight across his pectorals, defining each sculpted muscle for Darren's hungry eyes. Darren shifted in his desk chair, thankful his lap was hidden from sight. His dress slacks felt tight across the zipper, and the situation was not improved by the way Tanner 98

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leaned closer to share some obviously exciting piece of news that had his exotic eyes sparkling. "Steven and I get to go to Earth today. We're assigned an actual Retrieval case!" "What?" Darren's whispered words were laced with a menacing anger, but Tanner continued to boast about his adventure planned for that day, apparently oblivious to the warning signs that signaled his partner was about to erupt. "Our paranormal sensors picked up the ghost of a young girl haunting a park in the neighborhood she used to live in. Steven and I get to locate her and determine what her unfinished business is. Absolution should be no problem, so I estimate she'll be crossing over before suppertime." Tanner's smugness would have been amusing if Darren wasn't trying so hard to keep from snapping every pencil in the cup holder on his desk. At least his arousal was deflated by the protective rage that was blocking out everything in the office except the elfin figure sliding back and forth across the edge of his desk. "I thought the Chief forbid you from going on any Retrieval cases until the doctor cleared you." "He did, and she did. Dr. O'Connor said yesterday that there was nothing more she could do for me except treat any unpredictable symptoms that pop up." "What about you falling on your face without warning? I'd call that an unpredictable symptom." Tanner ducked his face away from Darren's unflinching scrutiny, but he could see that damnably attractive blush coloring the kid's skin again. He sternly ordered his dick to 99

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ignore the sensual call to find out how far down that young body the pink path traveled. "She's already run a bunch of tests on me, and they've come back negative. She can't hold me back from work anymore on the slight possibility I could have another attack." "You've only been out of the hospital for a little over three days, and you've suffered three attacks. I'd say the odds of not having another one are against you." "Yeah, but they're getting better. I only needed to rest about an hour after the last one." "Well, that's great. Maybe you'll only be paralyzed and left at the mercy of any potential enemies for half an hour next time. How much damage could they do in that amount of time?" The green taint surfacing beneath Tanner's golden skin was probably not from the words marinated in sarcasm, but the picture of helplessness they painted. At least the kid had an ounce of common sense. He was in touch with reality enough to realize he could die several times over in that finite amount of time. "Why are you trying to scare me?" "I just want you to take responsibility for the consequences your half-baked actions will invariably lead to. If you go into the field when you're not at your best, you're risking yourself unnecessarily." "You know why I think you're so angry?" Any response Darren could have whipped out stuttered and died as he took stock of his body's reactions. His muscles were clenched, from his jaw straight down to his toes, and his breath was seething out through the little space afforded by 100

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his locked teeth. What the hell was going on inside him? 'Uncontrollable emotion' to him used to mean allowing himself to smile or frown in the presence of others. These days he was lucky if he could keep from yelling his thoughts to every person in a twenty-mile radius. The kid was disrupting his life too much. He needed some space, and fast. "Because I don't want to have to pull your ass out of another life and death situation." The brat actually had the nerve to smile at his monotone reply. With his hip still propped against Darren's desk, Tanner leaned down until his eyes were level with a pair of dark brown ones and only a few inches separated the two masculine sets of lips. Darren was very aware of how much space was between them, and how little effort it would take to taste those gleaming lips. His arousal returned full force, throbbing in his pants as those velvety lips grazed the shell of his ear. "You worry about me, too. And worse than that, you want me, and there's nothing you can do to stop it." He nearly came in his pants as a wet, brazen tongue licked his sensitive ear and retreated, along with the rest of that irresistible body. The brat was off his desk and out of his sight before Darren could mount an offensive response, not that his overheated body had any inclination to move. He was just thankful the wet spot of pre-come leaking from the head of his shaft had not gone through to leave a mark on his pants. Explaining to Reed why he suddenly needed to return home to change was low on his list of desired conversations. 101

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**** Spring had always been Tanner's favorite season on Earth, with its promise of new life and second chances. And in the little neighborhood park in the residential town of Samson Creek, Idaho, the very air seemed to tingle with such potential. The park was deserted at this time of day, its usual occupants still at school, but he could see their laughing imprints all around the play equipment and floral landscaping. The weight of so many happy, innocent moments hung in the air around him, mixing with the warm sun that beat down on his neck and shoulders. In such a gentle atmosphere, Tanner could truly hope for the impossible. It had been too late to experience love in his life on Earth, but that didn't mean he had to abandon that dream altogether. He couldn't say without a doubt that he loved Darren. He was definitely fascinated by the man, and turned on by Darren like nothing he'd ever encountered before. He also respected his senior partner for the ramrod-straight honor he carried around and battered everyone over the head with. But did all these feelings add up to love? Tanner really couldn't say. What he was certain of was that Darren was ready to run. He'd read the flight response clearly in his partner's eyes when they talked earlier. His next few moves were crucial. He had to treat Darren like a dog that had been beaten. If he backed Darren into a corner, he would get his hand chewed off. He needed finesse and patience to reel his partner in and make him stay. 102

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A playful smile stretched across Tanner's sun-kissed face as he decided on the appropriate bait to get his partner hooked. "What's up with the goofy grin?" Steven asked as he returned from his jaunt around the perimeter, checking for dark energy. "Just thinking how great it would be to have some ice cream. A truck just pulled up on the other end of the park, over by the jungle gym." "Your wish is my command," Steven replied with an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. "Could you see if they have one of those bubble gum flavored ice pops? You can only get them from an ice cream truck." "Fine, but you owe me. I want a rematch at poker, and this time I want to play for bets." "You want to bet money?" "Money, or other things. I am a lonely man," Steven suggested with an evil wiggle of his eyebrows. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a girl." "Oh, I've noticed, and believe me, that is not nearly the turn off that you being Darren's property is." Tanner felt like a fish now, wriggling at the end of a line with his mouth gaping open. "What!?" "Everybody in the division thinks I'm too busy combing my hair to notice what's going on around me. Well, I manage to look this deliciously groomed while I'm spying on my close associates to learn their dirty little secrets." 103

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Tanner was able to snap his mouth shut, but had no words to deny the perceptive accusations being tossed at him by the least likely person. He'd been right. There was more to the playboy than most people suspected. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out there's something going on between you two. It would be easy to guess hate ... but I've seen the way he's changed since you've come to the Agency. He used to be impenetrable, unbendable. Glaciers had nothing on that guy. But now, he seems agitated and distracted, almost like a human being who didn't die and give up on everything that makes life after death worth living." Steven suddenly seemed embarrassed, looking around at everything but Tanner. He shoved his manicured hands into the pockets of his designer jeans and kicked some stray pebbles around with his leather boots as he waited for Tanner to break the awkward spell suspended between them. "You don't think he hates me?" The soft words brought Steven's face around like a whip to stare at Tanner. "There's enough heat between you to set off a sprinkler system, but it's definitely not from hate. Trust me, I should know." Tanner nodded, a serene smile on his face as he began walking toward a wrought iron bench that was considerately placed beneath the shade of one of the trees scattered throughout the park. "Most of the time I agree with you, but there are moments when I feel myself falling farther from my goal instead of toward it." Steven followed, but didn't take the open seat besides Tanner. His mind seemed burdened by more than the 104

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knowledge he had just revealed. "If anyone can break through to that bastard, it's you, kid. After all, who could resist such an eager virgin?" Tanner almost swallowed a bug with the hole that opened up in his face this time. He had never met a more forward man in his life, himself not included, of course. "I think I'll go get you that ice cream now." Steven called as he made a hasty escape with his foot still protruding from his mouth. Tanner remained frozen on the bench, doing his best to recapture the peaceful feelings that had fled with Steven's crude, but accurate, words. He'd been asking himself the same questions, wondering how Darren could say no to sex with such a willing and untouched partner. Apparently the man had standards above just breathing and saying "yes," which was less important when you were dead and didn't have to worry about sexually transmitted diseases, but nice to know in a monogamous relationship. If he ever got his hands on that man, their relationship would be monogamous if he had to buy a male chastity belt and hide the key in an orifice. He did not share well with others. It was true in kindergarten, and only more so now with something as rare and unobtainable as his partner. Across the park he could hear Steven arguing with the ice cream man over some trivial matter, the playboy's arms gesticulating wildly as he tried to make his point. It was startling that he could almost hear the words being said, but there were no other sounds to interfere. 105

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Attuning his senses to the ebb and flow of life around him, Tanner listened for something that indicated a thriving ecosystem. The air around him was disturbingly quiet. No birds chirping or trees rustling from a warm breeze, not even the sound of cars traveling down the side roads surrounding the public park. The only noise that broke the eerie silence was a soft sniffling coming from somewhere behind him. It sounded like a whimpering animal that had gotten itself trapped, or the sobs of a very small person. Tanner didn't hesitate or check in with his primped partner before going to investigate the cause of such a sad sound. Despite the teasing he received on a daily basis, he wasn't a little boy who needed his hand held to do his job. He managed to track the faint crying to a willow tree that was located slightly off into the forest of one of the hiking paths the quaint park provided. The long branches of the tree seemed to close in around and shelter whoever was emitting the alternating tears and hiccups, as if hugging them. Tanner paused before entering the leafy cocoon, wondering if he would be intruding on a private grief, but his instincts screamed that he'd found what he'd been searching for. Parting the green veil with one hand, Tanner squinted into the dim underside of the tree. He could make out a small form hunched against the roots of the aging tree, curled in on him or herself and rocking back and forth. He approached slowly, careful not to startle the withdrawn figure. When only a few steps separated them, a small face shot up and regarded him with fearful surprise. It was a little girl, 106

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her face streaked with dirty tracks of tears. Her dress was just as dirty, and a little tattered. It didn't make sense for an underprivileged child to be in this park, which was surrounded by a wealthy, middle-class neighborhood. She'd either been missing for awhile, or she'd wandered here from another part of Idaho altogether. Or she was the ghost child he'd been sent to help. Considering the way his senses were screaming at him, he was going to guess the latter. She was younger than he expected for a girl who had gone to the park by herself and never returned. His mind had imagined a child of about ten or eleven, but this miniature person couldn't have been more than six. How did such a young girl get away from her house without anyone noticing until after it was too late? Giving the most reassuring smile he could, and hoping the girl could see it with the minimal lighting in their natural alcove, he took another step closer. Her little body tensed, her knees hugged into her chest in a way that looked painful, and her dark eyes seemed to glaze over with panic. Tanner didn't need any more signs that he should stay put for the time being. "Hello. I'm Tanner, and I think I'm here to help you." "You can see me?" The girl asked in a hopeful, tear-choked voice. The loneliness in that one question was enough to break his heart into more pieces than an advanced puzzle. "Yes. I can see you because God sent me to help you." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it was not the whole truth either. While the Agency's work was ordained by the Big Guy, the 107

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agents weren't messengers for the Almighty. They weren't in the same class as angels, but that was the easiest way to explain his presence to a young, frightened child. Her small body uncurled and she wiped away the last of her tears with a grubby fist. She stood to her full height, barely reaching Tanner's waist, and came forward to slip one dirty hand into his larger one. There was no longer any fear or hesitation present on her face or in her movements, just the trusting acceptance of her age. "I'm Sarah. What's your name, angel?" "Tanner." "That's a good name for an angel." He smiled at her approval of a name that had caused many unwanted nicknames throughout the course of his life. "Are you going to take me to Mommy and Daddy?" Tanner realized he had to proceed carefully in this situation that contained many unknown variables. He needed to find out what was keeping this little girl from crossing over to the afterlife that awaited her, and then guide her over in a way that provided closure. First things first, he needed to find out what had brought her to the park and what had caused her death. "I'm going to take you where you can be safe. But I need you to help me first." "How?" She wrinkled up her pert nose at the idea of being able to help a grown up. "I need you to tell me how you got lost from your Mommy and Daddy." Up until now Sarah had been staring in the open, intense, almost rude way children did, but at his words she looked 108

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away. Her frayed, torn sandal began to trace patterns in the dust around the protruding tree roots. Tanner knew enough about children to realize she didn't want to incriminate herself, especially to an angel. "I promise you won't get in trouble. I just need to know so I can help you get home." He didn't share that the home he was referring to was light years different from the one the word conjured in her mind, but that was a subject for later in the day. "Angels have to keep their promises, right?" Tanner nodded earnestly, holding in the chuckle that her reprimanding eyes caused. She appeared to be such a solemn little girl, with her large chocolate eyes holding him to his promise and her clothes darkened by mud and time. He tried to see her laughing and smiling in a field of flowers, the sun outshone by the light she cast. It was an easy picture to create, and he swore that it was a snapshot of her future. "That's right." Sarah tugged on their interlocking hands, signaling that he was to follow. She led him out from under the willow and toward the edge of the park, heading in the opposite direction from his current partner. Tanner didn't want to break the little girl's concentration by insisting they make a circuit toward Steven first. As long as they didn't leave the confines of the park, he was sure the playboy could eventually track him down. By that time his ice cream would probably be melted, but he was on duty and his job came first. 109

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They stopped where the healthy green grass of the park gave way to an asphalt road. Across the street sat a line of two-story, upper middle-class homes that were constructed from brick. Each was a cookie cutter image of the one next to it, down to the position of the front door, windows and automatic garage door. Most had a standing basketball hoop in their driveway, and a picketed fence to surround their property. "I live there." Sarah pointed to one of the few houses that had no basketball hoop and a fence about six feet high encircling the back yard. There were no cars in the driveway, and no other visible signs that anyone was home. "Why did you come to the park?" "Mommy and Daddy are always too busy to spend time with me. They're always on the phone, or out with people, or yelling at each other. I thought if I went to the park without telling them ... that ... maybe..." Sarah's words were strangled by deep sobs, tears pouring from her eyes. She pulled her hand away to swipe at the moisture that seemed never ending as it dripped down her chin and on to her caked dress. "You thought they would get worried and come get you." His heart clenched at the way her little head gave a defeated nod. He didn't know exactly how long the child had been missing; he could obtain that information at the local police station later if he chose to, assuming her parents had filed a missing person's report. From the state of her body and clothing, he guessed the little girl had been wandering by herself in the park for at least a week. A whole week, and a 110

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search and rescue party hadn't been organized to find her. The evidence of her parent's negligence made Tanner angry enough to wait for them outside their house to use some of his supernatural abilities on them. He would be stripped of his position and kicked out of the Agency, but at the moment it seemed worth it. "You haven't left the park since you ran away?" "N-no. I-I wanted to stay h-here so they could find m-me." Finding enough air to speak around her powerful sobs was difficult, but these questions couldn't be avoided. Tanner bent down so he was kneeling on one knee and wrapped his arms around her slight, quivering form. Her sharp bones had only skin to cover them, and the edges poked through her thin dress and into his body as he gently rocked her and tried to calm her down. His next set of questions would be extremely painful, for both of them. "I don't want you to be afraid by what I'm going to ask you. I'm right here, and I'm not leaving, so you'll be safe." Sarah drew back from his solid embrace and nodded her head with a sniff. She seemed to have her tears under control again for the moment. "Did anything or anyone hurt you while you were in the park?" Sarah's small form seemed to shrink even more as she pulled her body tightly together, backing away again from the punishment she imagined she deserved. He reached out gentle hands to rest on her shoulders, keeping her from running from the terrors that wriggled around behind her innocent eyes. Like him, she had been 111

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indoctrinated by the cruelty of life at an early age. Those she trusted to take care of her had let her down. The tattoo of pain on both their hearts could have been drawn by the same needle. "Please tell me." Tanner suddenly wished for Darren's presence beside him, the older man's strength lending endurance to his failing resolve. The experienced Retriever wasn't good with children, but he always knew the correct protocol to follow in any type of case. He was also not afraid of anything, including the jagged truth of a small child's gruesome death. "There was a man who came to the park a lot. He kinda scared me, and I never talked to him. He didn't have any kids, but he watched them. Sometimes he left food on a bench for me." Tanner swallowed painfully, fighting the impulse to shut his eyes against the nauseating truth he saw barreling down on him like a freight train. "One day he said he would give me a snack cake if I would play with him a little. I was really hungry, and I didn't want to be by myself anymore, so I went with him." Tanner listened with a heart that grew heavier with each word as she described the way the man had lured her to a deserted part of the park and then sexually abused her. She had tried to run away, back to her house, but the man stopped her by grabbing her around the neck. She didn't remember anything after that, only waking up and trying to get someone to help her, but people acted like they couldn't see or hear her. She'd given up and gone to cry in the safest 112

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spot she could find, under the willow tree, where Tanner had found her. Holding her shaking body in his arms, he noticed that what he had mistaken for dirt smudges on her neck were really bruises from a large pair of hands. Anger boiled in his stomach, banishing some of the bone-deep sadness. When the authorities found her body buried in the park, he was sure the cause of death would be strangulation. "Have you tried to go home since that man hurt you?" Sarah shook her head "no." "I was scared. If they didn't see me, I would have nowhere to go. I thought if I waited some more, they could come get me." He offered her one more reassuring squeeze before standing and leading her away from the house she'd lived in for the entirety of her short life. There was nothing there for her now. It was time to move on, and he was the one to help her do that. To his mind, the unfinished business that was holding her back was her desire to be rescued by her parents. Her child's heart was still waiting for them to show her the love, attention and acceptance she craved. Until she was able to release this longing, and accept that they weren't coming to bring her home, she would be unable to continue her existence on the other side. Tanner had some experience himself with giving up on love. It took many painful lessons, but eventually he had realized that some people didn't deserve his love and were incapable of returning it anyway. 113

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"Can you show me where the man took you?" Sarah gripped his hand tightly and burrowed into his side, but agreed to show him the spot he figured her body was hidden beneath. After fixing the location in his mind, he led her away from that place of pain and degradation to a sunny spot that would facilitate her healing. They stopped by a large patch of arranged coxcomb, the resilient flowers still standing strong and budding as summer slowly gave way to fall. "Sarah, did you know there is a God who watches over little girls like you?" "Uh-huh. He sent you to me." Tanner nodded, his mind sifting through different explanations, searching for the right words that would release her from the prison she'd locked herself into. "That's right. I was sent to find you. Sometimes, the Mommies and Daddies who are given little girls by God don't treat them nicely enough. They hurt them because they never learned how to be nice." Sarah nodded her tangled little head, listening intently to his every word. Small frown lines appeared between her brows as she tried to follow his meaning. "When a Mommy and Daddy can't be nice to their little girl, God decides to take her back to live with Him." "I'm going to live with God?" Tanner nodded. It wasn't his decision where the ghosts of the dead went when they crossed over, he was just a guide, but he knew that the souls of children only had one destination. 114

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"I won't see my Mommy or Daddy anymore?" There was sadness in Sarah's voice and in her rounded eyes. He understood the conflict raging inside her only too well. Even though a heart knew it had been abused, it was still hard to take that final step and sever the ties to what was familiar. "No, you won't see them anymore. But you will meet new friends who will be able to love you like your Mommy and Daddy can't. I promise you won't be alone anymore." Images of Darren spilled into his mind as he made this promise. He saw them fighting at the office, in his apartment, and in the field. He saw Darren holding him during the brief passionate interlude they had shared in the hallway. He felt the heat spark across his skin again as he saw them entangled on top of his hospital bed, all thoughts driven from their minds except finding pleasure in each other. Something as strong as love couldn't be stopped by something as weak as death. Sarah would be released from the abuse she'd suffered on Earth, and allowed to experience the true freedom of childhood. It was time for her to cross over. "Are you ready to go to your new home?" She bit her lip and fisted her hands in his T-shirt, apprehension pinching her tiny face. "Are you coming, too?" "I'll go with you part of the way. I have to stay behind to help other little girls who need me." Sarah squeezed her eyes shut tight, then relaxed with the acceptance and resilience only found in the very young. "How do I get there?" 115

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Tanner held out both his hands, his palms facing the sky. She placed her tiny hands on top of his and rested them there trustingly as he enclosed them with his fingers. "Don't let go of my hands. I'm going to fly you there." The process of transporting a soul to the afterlife was not exactly flying, but he was supposed to be an angel, so the analogy made sense. It was just like transferring, only he left the destination in his mind blank. The mechanics of the procedure were unclear to him, but the result was he would remain behind in the same spot while the soul he was escorting went on to its rightful afterlife destination. "Where are your wings?" Sarah asked with the inquisitive mind that youngsters were known for. "I had to hide them so I could blend in." "Oh. Will I get a new dress when I get to my new house?" Tanner smiled at her whimsical question and answered her with a nod as he initiated the transfer. He pictured a vast emptiness in his mind, expanding on every side until it was large enough to swallow up several people. As the blankness extended, he felt the small hands in his own crackle with a humming energy and then dissolve. He kept his eyes closed in order to focus and avoid seeing the last expression in the child's eyes before she traveled on to meet her fate. Tanner concentrated as he waited to feel the energy release that would ripple through his body and alert him that his transfer was completed. The energy continued to build and the humming grew louder until it was all he could sense. Nothing outside of the powerful forces buffeting his body existed. 116

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The tender grip on his fingers suddenly vanished, leaving him holding nothing. The backfire of energy from the transfer coursed through his body in waves that caused him to convulse and collapse on to the grass below. He remained in that stooped position for minutes after, regulating his breathing back to normal and remembering the phantom squeeze he had felt on his fingers moments before the transfer had been completed. The sound of running feet made him look up as a tall form came hurtling around the corner of the trimmed shrubbery that enclosed his current resting spot from the rest of the park. Steven skidded to a stop before Tanner, his breath hissing from his lungs at a ragged pace, and a melted ice cream bar clutched in his cold, wet hand. "Darren is going to kill me," he managed to pant out before collapsing on to the grass beside Tanner. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Seven The brat was far too quiet. Usually this wouldn't be a problem for Darren. On the contrary, it was a reason for celebration. But Tanner's uncommon silence, paired with Steven's nervous behavior, was enough to raise his suspicions. He and Mihato had returned to the office shortly after Unit Elf, dragging their feet from the failure of a whole day spent in fruitless searching. It was beginning to look like they might need to set a baited trap to bring the demonic serial killer out into the open. He would discuss that possibility with the Chief tomorrow. Right now he needed to discover what could make his hyperactive partner shuffle down the hallway to his suite like a somnambulist. He'd questioned both Steven and Tanner about the outcome of their mission, and found it was successful, which didn't explain the grim expression on Tanner's face or the hasty escape Steven made from his presence. Whatever had happened in that park today would soon be clear to him. He was not a man to be put off or blockaded from something he decided to pursue. Darren unlocked the door to his suite and stepped aside to let Tanner enter first. He planned to let the teenager settle in for the night before starting his interrogation. The idea of initiating a conversation with his flamboyant houseguest was foreign to him, and he really wasn't sure how to go about it. 118

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Whenever he'd started a conversation with the brat in the past, it was usually because he had to yell at the kid about something. He could start yelling at Tanner now, just pick a reason, but that didn't seem the right tactic to use when his partner hadn't cracked a single smile since leaving the office. Darren waited patiently as Tanner started his nightly ritual. He took a shower to wash away the grime from the day and slipped into his pajamas, a pair of drawstring sweat pants and a white tank top. Next, he prepared a quick dinner meal. Tonight's was a microwave lasagna, followed by a disgustingly large dessert: a big bowl of triple chocolate chunk ice cream with whipped cream and cherries. He washed all that down with some caffeinated soda, and plopped down on the living room couch to watch television until he decided to go to bed. While Tanner did all this without talking beyond what was necessary, Darren did the same thing he did most nights. He cracked open a book about historical warfare and read in his favorite chair in the living room. He watched the kid out of the corner of his eye, observing the blank expression and anemic sprawl of his body. Something was depressing him, and it was time to solve that mystery and send him off to bed so Darren could read without the sound of melancholy sighing. "Tell me what happened today," Darren demanded as he closed his book and rested it on the coffee table. Tanner blinked and nearly rolled off the couch with surprise. He obviously was not expecting Darren to speak. 119

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Darren tried not to be distracted from his goal of information by the sight of Tanner's rosy nipples poking through the thin material of his white top. They were peaked, probably from the chill in the room, and just the right size to suck into his mouth and nibble on. "I already told you about it at the office," Tanner responded in a sulky voice. If the kid didn't want to talk about it, there was something disturbingly wrong going on. "You told me about the parameters of your mission. You told me whether your objectives were met or not. You didn't say anything about what kicked a stick up your ass." So much for not opening with anger. It might not be the wisest course of action, but it was effective. Tanner's mouth dropped open, angry sounds sputtering out. He clenched his chenille blanket in his balled up fists and confronted Darren with self-righteous fury. "You're one to talk, Mr. Anti-social. I thought you'd be happy with a break from my voice for one night." Darren ignored the bitter words, focusing instead on the pain that was blazing behind the blue, tilted eyes that could barely look him straight in the face. He wasn't about to let himself get sidetracked by the insults the teenager was slinging. He was in control of this argument, and its purpose was to get Tanner to vent some of the negative emotions built up inside him. Once the edge was taken off of whatever was weighting him down, Darren could uncover the real underlying issue. "I like quiet." 120

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"Of course you do. You like your perfect black and white world, where everything is catalogued and put into happy labeled boxes. And then there's me. I don't have a box and no label would be big enough to list every problem that makes me me. You've made it clear how you feel from the first day we were partnered." Tanner's voice started out strong, an angry torrent of words that poured forth like a flash flood. It wasn't long before they lost their power, the anger that fueled them dissipating without Darren fanning the flames. The sobs that followed the heated words were expected, but Darren was still at a loss as to how to deal with them. His chest hurt with a sympathetic ache as he watched Tanner fight a losing battle against the dark sadness that polluted his normally sunny emotions. Tanner's back bowed as he wrapped his arms around his torso and rested his head on his knees. The loud sobs shook his thin body with their force and sent spasms of pain shooting through Darren's own body. Tanner began mumbling some nonsensical words of misery that were lost in the rocking motion of his body. Even with Darren's supernaturally-sharpened senses extended to their fullest, he couldn't understand their meaning. "Stop wallowing and tell me what happened today." The sharp words sounded insensitive to Darren's own ears, but he didn't know any method of stopping a hysterical person other than selfishly demanding their calmness. Throughout his entire life on Earth, a pattern of isolation could be seen trailing behind him like a shadow, casting 121

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darkness on the few relationships that might have blossomed into something in the light. As a child he moved from one foster house to another, without a sense of home or belonging, and became more certain that these things really didn't exist. Becoming an assassin had just cemented his feeling that people and places weren't meant to endure together. Nothing was permanent, so why become attached? Why put forth the effort to care for someone when you knew your time together would be temporary, as all things in the world and beyond were? Only this time, with this person, he couldn't just walk away and cut his losses. Somehow, the brat had spun their fates together, intertwining them for better or worse. Maybe it was just lust. God knew his body responded to Tanner like the man was an aphrodisiac. All that beautiful skin for the tasting, those erotic little noises he choked out when excited... Whatever the reason, he couldn't walk away while the kid needed him. He might make the situation worse with his stunted social skills, but that couldn't penetrate his usually flawless logic. The blunt sentiment, spoken as a command, interrupted Tanner's swaying and caused him to sit up and stare with bruised eyes. Tears still poured down his golden cheeks, but he no longer wailed, and his shaking had receded into shivering. "W-what?" "If you want to tell me what's wrong so that we can fix it, I'm willing to listen. If you prefer to cry and talk to yourself, then I'm leaving. The choice is yours." 122

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Darren watched the gears turning inside Tanner's head as he weighed the ups and downs of admitting Darren into his personal hell. There was no way Darren was walking out until the brat was capable of smiling again, but Tanner didn't need to know that. Finally Tanner held out a shaking hand, arm extended with the palm facing up. "P-please?" The fear in his eyes testified louder than the trembling in his voice that he expected to be rebuffed, his hand left hanging empty or shoved away in anger. Darren wrapped the small hand in calloused warmth and allowed himself to be drawn toward the couch, where he sat and was immediately barraged with a lapful of trembling young man. The head that rested on his shoulder was leaving behind a wet spot whose circumference grew by the second, while the arms locked around his waist tightened to the point of ceasing his breathing or cracking a rib. He didn't mention either of these problems, just nervously ran his large hands up and down the delicate spinal column of the man in his arms, opting for silence over reassuring words that would sound blatantly forced. As soon as Tanner was capable of speaking again, he poured out the story of the little girl he'd helped cross over that day. Her pain and suffering had left a deep imprint on the sensitive man's soul, and he needed some closure to move on, just as she had. Hidden within the upsetting events from the present, Darren sensed some overlap with the past. Tanner was too affected by the girl's story of abuse, too empathetic, even for 123

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the unrivaled caring person he was. This breakdown provided a window into the beautiful man's Earth history. If only he could use their sudden closeness to find out the contents of Tanner's sealed files. The problem with that plan was the sexy, tight body that was stealing away his train of thought. Tanner's head was no longer soaking his shoulder. Instead it was nuzzling into his neck, a warm pair of lips rubbing petal-soft caresses that transferred Tanner's trembling to his own body. The legs that had been draped across his lap were now straddling his thighs, the hardening arousal between them grazing his stomach with maddening irregularity. Slender hands were no longer content with grasping his waist; now they traveled up his chest, circling the nipples that were hardening beneath a thin layer of refined cotton. "Tanner, what are you—" The explosion of heat caused by one of those clever fingers brushing over his sensitized nipple ripped the words from Darren's mouth. He really didn't need to ask what had gotten his partner so hot and bothered. Tanner had just released a torrent of negative emotions, which probably left him feeling relieved, even giddy. He needed to find a safe zone, somewhere to hide away from the storm of his unbalanced feelings. Well, Tanner could bury himself in Darren all he wanted, as long as the tongue that was lapping at Darren's collarbone didn't disappear. "Do you like that?" Tanner asked softly as a finger ghosted over Darren's nipple once more. He could only grunt a 124

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response as he fought the urge to arch into that stroking digit. His long fingers gripped the slim hips that were nearly riding his arousal, trying to hold them away long enough that he could catch his breath and find a way to end this play before it got out of hand. Tanner was absolutely no help as his hips continued to gyrate in Darren's hands, Tanner's tongue now lapping at one hardened nipple through the fabric of Darren's shirt, leaving a mouth-shaped wet spot behind. "We have to stop," Darren found the will power to say. "I don't want to." Tanner punctuated this statement by nipping Darren's nipple with enough force to cause a short pain that only heightened his arousal. His partner then moved on to his other nipple, and began lapping at it with an intense expression of pleasure. "If you don't stop teasing me, I'm going to fuck you." He'd meant for the heated words to be shocking, something that would penetrate the blond's haze of arousal and make him back off. But the breathy "yes" Tanner responded with was unexpected, and damned stimulating. Was he really considering having sex with a male partner who was thirteen years younger than him? It was a kind of madness. He hadn't even had sex with a woman since crossing over into the afterlife. He didn't know anything about having sex with a man, other than the information one got from lewd jokes. He didn't want to tie himself to anyone, especially his young partner, whom he would see every day after at work. There were too many reasons to push the kid away and resurrect his icy wall of distance. 125

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He was no longer alive. He had no desire for the things of the living anymore. Hunger, cold, tiredness, pain, these things were no longer allowed to touch him. Lust and love certainly had no place in the routine he'd built to guide him from one empty day to another. But for the first time in a long time, he wanted. He craved something, and his body refused to be denied. He meant to shove the slender body off his lap and close himself away in the bedroom for the remainder of the night. Of their own accord, his hands drew those tilting hips closer until they made contact with his hardening cock. He fitted their arousals together so that every movement slid their lengths against each other. Tanner whimpered, his head falling away from the wet path he was tracing beneath Darren's ear. "You ... should be ... naked," Tanner managed to pant out. Darren leaned toward the delicate shell of Tanner's ear, returning the erotic lick he had received that morning, and whispered, "You first." Tanner groaned, and pulled away to remove his tank top and toss it over the couch onto the floor somewhere. Darren watched amazed as each inch of golden perfection was revealed to his hungry eyes. The kid really was fucking flawless. His pectorals and abs were fluidly defined, and a light dusting of blond hair swirled beneath his navel to travel down beneath the waistband of his sweats. Darren ran awed fingers through that downy fuzz, pleased by the shuddering response it provoked in the beautiful man in his arms. 126

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"Oh," seemed to be all Tanner's startled mind could spit out. Darren's hands followed the soft path to the edge of the brat's pants, and then hesitated. His fingers tickled the skin below, dipping in and out of the waistband to torture his prey. Tanner lifted his hips up, seeking to slide those fingers deeper into the heart of his desire. Darren chuckled and slipped one finger in, allowing it to graze the patch of hair that he knew nestled Tanner's cock. Tanner groaned in frustration and his hands clenched the broad shoulders beneath him, his mind obviously completely focused on getting that hand all the way in his pants. The small puckered nipples that were within Darren's line of sight attracted his attention, their dusty pink color contrasting with the tan flesh surrounding them. They were drawn into a peak, hard and aching with a need that made his tongue water. He lowered his lips to one rosy bud, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, and listened to the gasp from the writhing body on top of him. Tanner's cheeks were flushed, his eyelids lowered over dilated pupils; he was lost in the urges of his body as his hips jerked faster against the clothed hardness beneath him. Darren's hands grabbed on to the firm ass that had been tempting him for too long now, filling his palms with the rounded globes, while his tongue continued to swirl around its salty treat. He used the leverage to further grind Tanner's cock over his zippered arousal, enjoying the spikes of pleasure the action sent straight to his dripping erection. He 127

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could feel precome sliding from the tip, wetting his shaft and underwear. He had never been this close to the edge just from petting. The brat was close to exploding, whimpers falling uncontrolled from his swollen lips as he jerked himself off against Darren's arousal. Darren was not concerned with his partner finding release so early. Tanner was still in his male sexual prime and would recover fast. He wanted to see that gorgeous body spasm with ecstasy as many times as possible before the night was over. Darren's teeth closed around one hard nipple, mimicking Tanner's play from earlier, biting down hard enough to sting, and then soothing the ache with the cool wetness of his tongue. He inhaled the muskiness as he nuzzled into Tanner's chest, enjoying the natural odors of sweat, arousal and sun. "Darren, I'm close." Tanner no doubt meant those words as a warning to slow down before he spilled in his pants, but Darren saw them as a challenge. "Come for me, now." The husky words were mouthed into Tanner's ear as Darren jerked his hips up into the rock solid cock that was rubbing against his own. With a shuddering groan, Tanner let go and released a gush of warmth onto himself, his hands fisting in the collar of the dress shirt Darren still wore. The orgasm took him hard, making all his muscles clench tightly before releasing him from the small death. His head lolled against Darren's shoulder in the aftermath, his energy drained for the moment. 128

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"Good boy," Darren commended as he stroked the damp strands of hair with one hand, his other hand still gripping the brat's ass against his own unsatisfied arousal. "I live to serve," Tanner mumbled out of lips that barely functioned. His eyes remained closed and his body boneless, still floating in the sensations that short-circuited him. "That wasn't your first orgasm, was it?" "No. First time not using my hand." That meant the kid never had sex with a partner before. He was a virgin. That notion should have caused Darren to back off and tend to his aroused state by himself. He'd brought his partner pleasure, given him one nice memory to counteract the sad ones created earlier, and that should have been enough. He tried to gather his infamous control around himself like a cloak, but his mind was consumed with his aching groin and the irresistible body draped over it. He hadn't been a horny teenager for some years before his death, and had always been able to turn off arousal when it was inconvenient. He usually slept with some random woman after a mission, needing to release some victory tension, but he always took his pleasure in his time and his own way. Tanner shot holes through his discipline and left it a fucking mess. He better be ready to reap the consequences of arousing his partner past the point of following his conscience. "Ready for round two?" Darren asked the limp form in his arms. 129

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Tanner stirred, blinking up at him with heavy lidded eyes, his face and hair still damp with the sweat from their foreplay. His eyes stared into Darren's for a long moment, searching for some sort of confirmation or guarantee. Finally, he nodded weakly, and Darren tossed Tanner off his lap so that he was sprawled across the couch on his back, Darren leaning over him. Darren gathered both of Tanner's fragile wrists in one hand, and held them pinned over the kid's head, displaying the slender body to his hungry gaze. With his other hand he untied Tanner's drawstring pants and managed to slide them down wet thighs and off with Tanner lifting his hips to help. He used the smiley face boxers he removed next to wipe the sticky come from Tanner's spent cock and thighs before tossing them carelessly out of sight. He could now see all of the delectable tempter's body, Tanner's chest expanding quicker as Darren caressed him with desire-filled eyes. The young man spread his legs wantonly, making no secret of what he expected to come next. Darren had no intention of giving in to his body's demands to shove his hardened shaft into that tight, hot sheath right away and pound into an oblivion of pleasure. First he wanted to explore with his hands and tongue, until he found every spot that made his lover squirm and beg for release. There was no way of knowing what tomorrow would bring, but he couldn't allow himself to repeat this weakness and continue to sleep with the young man who was his partner. He didn't know if relationships between operatives in their 130

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division were forbidden, that kind of rule had never mattered to him before, but it was likely that such a tenet existed. This had to be their only time together, so every fantasy Tanner had inspired with his siren's body had to be played out, without exception. "You're so beautiful." The soulful words made Tanner's eyes widen with surprise, whether from the sentiment or the emotion behind it, Darren didn't know. All he knew was that he meant them with every fiber of his being, and that he had to touch that exposed body somewhere or he would die from the longing to. He slid his long fingers up one silky thigh, enjoying the texture of baby-fine hairs that covered the surface. Tanner shuddered under his ministrations and lifted his hips, drawing attention to the arousal that had sprung back to life. Ah, the advantages of youth. Darren's hand continued up the well-formed body, skirting around Tanner's center of pleasure and continuing up to the inviting belly button. He dipped inside that small cavern before bending down to taste it with his tongue. Tanner gasped and wrapped his legs as far around Darren as his awkward position allowed. He pulled at the restraining hand that still bound his wrists, but was no match for his captor in brute strength. "You taste good everywhere," Darren murmured into the small hole and thrust his tongue into it again. His mind wandered to another tight hole that was begging for his attention. He mimicked what he would like to do there as he continued to shove his tongue in and out. 131

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"Please," Tanner begged in a raw voice. His legs remained clamped around Darren, and he tried to draw Darren closer, no doubt wanting to relieve some tension with the friction of them rubbing together. "Please what?" Darren asked as he sat back to survey the damage. "You were in charge of enemy interrogation for the CIA, weren't you?" Darren was amazed Tanner could produce such a long, coherent sentence. His head was tossing back and forth on the couch cushion, his hips grinding up into the air. "What makes you think that?" "You're a little too good at this torture thing." Darren laughed, a real honest response that wasn't tainted with sarcasm or malice. The sound caused his brat to still and stare at him with huge, startled blue eyes. "What?" Darren was suddenly defensive beneath the perusal of that stunned gaze. "If I had known that's what it would take to get you to laugh, I'd have gotten naked a lot sooner." Darren smiled and punished that cheeky remark by brushing his fingers over Tanner's cock with a teasingly light touch. His brat whimpered and immediately began begging for something that would release the mountain of tension sizzling through his body and building in his groin. Darren didn't have the reserves necessary to ignore that hard, weeping cock anymore. Tanner wasn't built to be large or impressive, but he was well made. The head of his cock 132

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was a deep red, and veins circled its length, standing out vividly with the amount of blood filling his tissue. Darren dipped his middle finger into the cream dripping from the slit at the top, smearing it around the head before bringing a taste of it toward his lips. He waited until Tanner has focused desire-glazed eyes on his actions, then brought the finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. His brat mewled in response at the same time as his cock twitched. "Like I said, you taste good everywhere." "No more teasing. I can't take anymore," Tanner insisted in a strained voice, his hard arousal bobbing in agreement with his words. "Giving in already?" "Yes!" his sprawled partner nearly screamed. Darren finally gripped the solid erection that jutted out from a nest of sunny curls, tightening his fist around the base and pumping from the bottom to the tip. Tanner's precome lubricated his palm as he increased his pace. The slim hips still clasped around his middle jerked in rhythm with his strokes, working toward another orgasmic release. Darren released Tanner's wrists so that he could bring his now-empty hand down between the younger man's legs to fondle his balls. He had no fear that Tanner would try to change their position in any way, his certainties being confirmed when those small tanned hands clutched at the afghan that was being crumpled beneath them. He rolled the sacs gently between his fingers, pinching them ever so slightly, making Tanner jerk and moan at the painfully pleasing sensation. Judging from the tight, indrawn 133

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state of his balls, Tanner was about to blow his load again. Before that happened, Darren wanted to feel that rigid length sliding between his lips. He released his hold on the erect organ and sucked it into his mouth before his partner could finish the desperate protest falling from his lips. Taking a moment to sample the taste and feel of the skin in his mouth, Darren slid his tongue out to savor. There was a salty, almost bitter tang to the flesh he consumed, and his tongue felt as rough as sand paper against the silky soft skin covering the hardness beneath. This was his first experience giving a man head, and he found he liked it. Of course, he probably only liked it because it was Tanner who was thrusting into his mouth and gripping his hair tight enough to bring moisture into deadened tear ducts. "Please," Tanner begged mindlessly as he pumped his cock in and out of the moist, warm sheath Darren provided, his body caught up in the approaching orgasm. Darren flicked his tongue over the sensitive foreskin at the head before sucking the entire length back into his mouth. He repeated this move several times, nuzzling his nose into the musky curls at the base, where the greatest concentration of the natural scent of his partner could be found. Tanner was fucking his mouth like a wild animal, all semblance of control gone as he focused on finding a peak to the endless burning journey that had him sweating and nearly collapsing with exhaustion. Darren decided to have mercy on the kid, and pulled his mouth away until just the tip of the erection still rested in his mouth before slamming back down on it and sucking with all the force he could produce. 134

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A broken, ravaged sound escaped his brat's lips as Tanner's body went rigid, and then bowed up off the couch cushions in an intense arch. Hot, milky fluid splattered into Darren's mouth, completely filling it before he swallowed it down. The aftertaste was strong, and tasted like nothing else on Earth or in the afterlife. The option of spitting that lukewarm fluid out never crossed Darren's mind before or after Tanner's body went into overload. It was comforting to know that he carried a piece of this moment inside of him always, no matter what the next day might bring. "You okay?" he asked the panting youth before him, the providing of a second orgasm causing smugness to creep into his voice. Tanner nodded weakly, eyes still closed and limbs a useless pile of mush. The kid looked content to stay like that for the rest of eternity, but Darren had other plans. He was still painfully aroused, getting hotter by the second as he envisioned his cock sliding into the tight ring of muscle hidden between his partner's golden cheeks. It was amazing that the thought of anal sex with anyone else turned his stomach with disgust, but with Tanner he hardly had the patience to prepare that sensitive entrance before forcing himself inside. Which brought up an interesting point... "I need some kind of lubricant." Tanner grumbled something about letting the dead rest, still unwilling to resurface from the ocean of pleasure he'd been plunged into. Darren smirked, his partner's spirit of 135

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mischief invading his body, and leaned down until his lips rested against the outer shell of Tanner's ear, their bodies not touching at any other point. "I want to be inside you," he whispered in a dark, overtly sexual rumble. There was no way he would let Tanner pass out this far into the game. Tanner's eyes cracked open and his body began shifting around on the couch, unconsciously searching for the pressure of the muscled, larger body that had trained it to pleasure. "I want to slide my cock so far up inside you that I'm pounding into your sweet spot. I want to wring every last drop of come from your sex kitten body." Tanner moaned and rubbed his hardening erection into Darren's stomach, hands working the buttons of his dress shirt from their holes. Darren had been so caught up in his lover's release that he'd not taken the time to remove any of his own clothing. He enjoyed the feeling of those nimble fingers parting his shirt front and diving inside to wind through the dense, black hair underneath. Tanner stroked his chest like a cat, searching for his nipples and then sliding them between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that what you want, Kitten?" Tanner's whole body shook with an unvocal yes. "I need to find some lube to get your hot little hole ready," Darren reminded as he moved from Tanner's ear to his shoulder. He bit down into the ridge of muscle where neck sloped into shoulder, deep enough to leave a mark of possession. 136

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It was unreasonable to feel a sense of ownership toward his partner. Even if he was the kid's first lay, there was no way they could repeat the experience. There was no future for them, but that still didn't prevent his mind from using labels like "his kitten." Apparently there was still some internal confusion as to the nature of this fling they were having. And then Tanner was moaning something about having lube in one of his overnight bags in the bathroom, and Darren was moving toward that source of greater pleasure with no more regard to the mixed up messages between his body and mind. After digging through a pile of clothes, way more than any male needed, even a young man, he came away with a clear tube of red gel that smelled like wild cherries. He couldn't wait to spread it over Tanner's appetizing flesh and see if it tasted as good as it smelled. When he returned to the living room, he found his boy still spread out before him on the couch, showcasing every last delicious, lick-able inch of skin. He approached his prey with the intention of pouncing and conquering, but his lover sat up as he drew near and dropped to his knees on the plush carpeting at Darren's feet. Large, hypnotic eyes held his gaze as those gilded fingers undid his belt buckle and slid it from his pant loops. His button was soon undone, followed by his zipper. He shivered as his dress slacks pooled around his ankles, followed by his briefs. After kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants and underwear, Darren stood before his transfixed partner completely naked. 137

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"You're the beautiful one," Tanner whispered in awe as his head lowered to the large cock standing up straight from the coarse black hair surrounding it. All the hair on his body was rougher than the peach fuzz that shimmered across Tanner's body, inviting one's hands to linger. Thick lashes lowered over dazzling sky eyes as Tanner sucked Darren's thick cock between ripened pink lips. Darren was several inches larger than his partner, making it impossible for Tanner to suck on the entire length without constantly gagging, but the kid managed to swallow more than half. His mouth was stretched to full capacity to fit around the large head, but he lapped and sucked the arousal in his mouth with relish. His small palms gripped Darren's ass, drawing his shaft further into the hot mouth and preventing any escape attempts, no matter how unlikely they were. Darren clenched his teeth to keep from growling and tried to focus on anything but the heated wetness gliding over his huge erection. He wanted to come inside his boy's tight bottom, not in Tanner's mouth, but his body was about to take the decision out of his hands. He tried to pull away, but the hands on his ass tightened possessively and the sex kitten at his feet bit down gently on his torrid flesh. It was a warning that shot him closer to the edge of losing control. Darren's long fingers twined into the baby fine locks at his crotch and pulled his partner closer to his groin instead of pushing him away. His hips began fucking that willing hole, driving in and out with controlled movements that wouldn't 138

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choke the nymph trying to suck every drop of come out of him. "Gotta stop ... wanna be in you," Darren panted around the jerking movements of his hips. Tanner smiled around his length, his teeth scraping lightly along his arousal. Seeing his sex kitten suck him off wantonly, with a satisfied smile on his face, drove Darren past his point of endurance and unleashed the starving animal inside him. He pulled his cock away, instantly mourning the loss of that humid cavern, and lifted Tanner up onto the couch. He rolled the younger man under him and coated his fingers in fruity lube. Tanner gasped and squirmed beneath him, begging to be fucked with everything but words. Darren slid one finger into his crack, circling around the bud of his virgin entrance before slipping inside. Tanner whimpered and tensed when his finger slid in up to the knuckle. "Relax, brat," Darren ordered as he distracted his partner with licks and nips along the neck. When the body his finger was inside relaxed enough for him to wiggle it around, Darren inserted a second finger. He repeated the process of waiting and distracting until Tanner was ready, then he scissored his fingers as much as the untried entrance would allow. "Darren!" Tanner gasped as his body bucked with some intense reaction. "Good?" "Uh ... yes!" Darren smiled and continued to stretch his lover by adding a third finger. It was killing him to be so thorough, his own 139

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cock begging to take the place of his greedy fingers, but he forced himself to wait. This would be the only time they shared this intimacy, and he wanted every detail to be perfect. Tanner's first time would be all about pleasure, the only pain involved being the good kind. Liquid fire surrounded his fingers as he slammed them into Tanner's tight opening, the lube leaking out to drip on the expensive suede material of his couch. He couldn't care less about the intensive cleaning it would take to remove the white stains that would be left behind. This kind of heaven was worth any price. When he felt his lover push into his driving hand, seeking to bury those fingers deeper into his inflamed core, Darren prepared to lube his own member and experience the Nirvana that had been dancing around him all night. No doubt his body would prefer to feel those small tan hands spreading slick gel along his engorged member, but his control was too tattered to risk such a pleasure at the moment. Just the feel of those warm fingers between his legs would be enough to catapult him to an early finish. Fuck, he'd never been this hot before, never needed like this. In the past he'd enjoyed sex with hundreds of businesswomen, underwear models, personal trainers; the list went on and on. All highly successful, career-motivated women who kept their bodies looking good in order to use them as another weapon in their arsenal. None of them could compare to the natural, seductive charm of his kitten. "Please ... Need you." Tanner's strained words mirrored Darren's desires perfectly. He needed to be inside that nubile 140

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young body now, before all his synapses fried from sexual overload. He positioned the head of his cock at Tanner's entrance, gently sliding his fingers from the molten channel his body craved like a drug. His kitten whimpered and pushed back, searching for his fingers, only to find something much larger waiting at his entrance. He froze, awareness morphing into fear that had his anus clamping shut against the large round head. Darren leaned over and forced his lover's mouth open with a wet, dominating kiss that left no room for argument as to who would be on top in this encounter. Tanner mewled when Darren finally withdrew his tongue. "You really are my sex kitten," he breathed against lips still moistened with his own saliva. Tanner jokingly let out a rolling purr sound that vibrated up from his diaphragm and raced down Darren's nerves straight to his cock. Damn, that was unexpected, and undeniably sexy. "Relax," he commanded in his best Unit Leader voice as he nudged the head of his shaft into that tight opening. It was a tight fit, even after penetrating his kitten with three fingers. "Too big," Tanner protested, his rear muscles clamping down and disobeying the previous order. Darren spanked his young lover on his upraised bottom, not hard enough to hurt, just with enough force to sting and command obedience. The golden skin immediately darkened with a flush of red, like the sun bleeding into the horizon at the end of the day. 141

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Tanner gasped, wiggled his bottom, and forced his muscles to unclench so that the head of Darren's cock could push inside. "Good kitten," Darren praised, his words shortened by the phenomenal pleasure of finally entering that tight ass that had unwillingly plagued him with carnal fantasies for weeks now. It was better than he imagined, the wet, heated skin that was tighter than any pussy. The hope that this urgent mating was just a fluke, and that he would be back to lusting after and sleeping with women afterward, faded as he pushed his cock inside that willing body a few more inches. Tanner groaned, but didn't try to pull away. He was biting down on the fleshy ridge between his thumb and index finger, clear tear tracks sliding down cheeks that had not completely lost their young, round shape. Darren's tongue slid out to sample that moisture, finding it less salty than his kitten's come, but with the same underlying flavor. He nuzzled his face into the hollow by his lover' neck, bending his body over his partner's as he lifted Tanner's thighs up to his waist and slid in deeper. "Am I hurting you?" he breathed out through clenched teeth, trying to control his body's urge to slam into that exposed hole and master it. "Yes ... Don't stop," Tanner begged with sexual abandon. That was all the permission Darren needed to push in straight to his base, his balls slapping against Tanner's ass cheeks. Nothing could have prepared him for the sensation of being surrounded by the body that was submitting to him, his will being replaced by his slavery to the throbbing release 142

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that was trying to claw out of his body. He might have Tanner sprawled out before him like a virgin sacrifice, but he was the one worshipping. For a few seconds neither one of them moved, the only sound in the room their harsh breathing. Darren wouldn't allow himself to start thrusting until Tanner communicated in some way that he was ready, even though waiting was killing him. He was balls deep inside this siren's body, his tip brushing against Tanner's core, and he needed to move and release the pleasure that would shatter them both. "Aren't you gonna fuck me?" Tanner asked in a low, arousing voice that snapped Darren's control as much as the slim hips pushing down on his impaled cock did. "I'm not just going to fuck you, I'm going to own you," Darren growled as he thrust into the body beneath him, all thoughts of holding back swept away by the lust raging through his system. All he could think about was driving harder, deeper and faster into Tanner's body. He wanted to stake his claim, to leave his mark so that no one would dare touch what belonged to him. It was slick heat and velvety smoothness wrapped around the most sensitive part of his body. Tanner's muscles tightened around him, drawing him deeper into the furnace that was slowly cooking him alive. He was so close to losing it, drowning in the intoxicating feel of their sweaty bodies sliding against each other with each pounding thrust. And then he made the mistake of looking into the blistering blue eyes that were blinking sensually below him. Darren didn't know how he felt about what was happening 143

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between him and his partner. It was easy to deny himself this pleasure again, to shut out any possibility of them in the future, but that still didn't cut the problem off at the roots. He could see something shining in Tanner's hazy eyes, something he was afraid was reflected in his own. There was definitely hunger, boldly on display as a small pink tongue wet lips parched from panting and whimpering in pleasure. He also saw warmth, a startling mixture of deep caring and unquestioning trust. If he could guess what love would look like shining out of someone's eyes, he'd never really seen someone looking at him with that expression, he would describe the eyes that pinned him to the spot as he slid ever so slowly in and out of his partner, merging them together. Shit. If they had been talking, he would be walking away as fast as his black ops-molded physique could carry him. But there was no way he was stopping before the paralyzing orgasm that was building between them broke. Nothing would ever be this good again. Darren leaned over his responsive kitten, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting Tanner's prostate, producing an eruption of uncontrolled whimpers from his lover. "So ... close," Tanner whispered with the force of a shout. He seemed beyond comprehending anything but Darren's thick cock, which was no doubt setting off fireworks in his head with every invasive stroke. Darren reached down between their slippery bodies to grip the smaller, hard arousal that was rubbing against his abdomen. With sweat-slicked fingers he jerked Tanner off, 144

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intent on his lover coming before he allowed himself to break down. "Come for me, Kitten." Darren's erotic words were like a key unlocking the gate that was holding Tanner's release in check. His lover immediately let out a piercing keen as his back bowed off the couch in a shuddering wave. Heated, thick fluid shot out to cover the large, stroking hand and stomachs of both of them. The automatic tightening of Tanner's ass muscles, squeezing his sensitized shaft as his kitten found his release, sent Darren plummeting over the edge. He came with the force of a nuclear explosion, his vision blacking out and hands clenching around the slim hips he was still buried between. Once he could see again, he became aware of his head resting against the warm, wet surface of his lover's chest. He needed to look into a pair of achingly honest blue eyes and read the truth of what they had just shared in their depths. But the possibilities nearly left him quaking in fear. Either he would read disappointment there, or, worse, the deep, bonemelting satisfaction that was stealing over his own inert body. Sex had never been that good. It shouldn't be that good. People became addicted to experiences that set off a firestorm of sensation like he had just experienced. God help him. He was in trouble. Darren finally managed to pull himself together enough to raise his head and shoulders from the body that was cradling his large form. Tanner's eyes were closed so tightly that wrinkles appeared between his brows. His cheeks were stained crimson, his mouth parted to drag in steadying 145

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breaths. He looked thoroughly ravished, and just the sight of him so completely undone was enough to make Darren's cock twitch with renewed interest. Incomparable gem-like eyes opened to meet dark, intense ones. Darren held his breath as he waited for the verdict on their lovemaking. The sweet smile that crept across those kiss-bruised lips was unexpected, as were the softly whispered words. "Thank you." What words he had to say in response were swept away by the sight of Tanner's eyes rolling back into his head as the thin body beneath Darren went limp and unconscious. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eight "Well, the CAT scans are normal," Dr. O'Connor concluded with exasperation. She hadn't really expected to find anything, considering this patient's elusive symptoms, but her code of professional conduct demanded she at least perform the test when someone was brought in after experiencing a seizure-like episode. "I told you, I'm fine," claimed the perky young man who was seated atop her exam table wearing nothing but a terry cloth bathrobe at least two sizes too big. "When you receive your doctorate in medicine, maybe we'll believe you," Tanner's partner growled in annoyance. He seemed to be in a particularly black mood that had darkened the longer he was required to wait for the results of the urgent scans she had performed. Under normal circumstances, seeing the black-haired male carrying his petite partner, who was clad in almost nothing, would be prime teasing material, but the stormy expression on Darren's face had alerted her survival instincts and kept her silent. Tanner had regained consciousness almost immediately upon arriving in her infirmary, and acted like his normal self, albeit slightly confused. She had checked his vital signs, which were normal, and then proceeded to test him after Darren's loud insistence. Her patient didn't remember any details of the episode the older man described, and she had little to draw a diagnosis 147

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from. With what little she had been told, her physician's mind believed this black out was just another form of the fainting spells the young man had been experiencing after his exposure to demonic lightning. As frustrating as it was for her to admit, she still had no idea what was causing those black outs. "What now?" Darren demanded in his deep, unaccented tone. "Well, I could keep him here for the night for observation— " "No, thank you!" Tanner interrupted with a fierce decisiveness. "—but I don't feel there is sufficient reason to do that," she finished. "So you're just going to let him walk out of here and cross your fingers that he doesn't pass out in the field next time?" Darren's temper seemed to be approaching uncontainable, his dark eyes narrowing on her with a warrior's intensity. She refused to give an inch to his Neanderthal tactics. "Haven't we already had this conversation? I can't restrict his life on the mere possibility that he could faint again, especially when I have no medical evidence that he will." "So his prior history doesn't count as evidence?" "You know, that was good advice you gave before about getting a doctorate before spouting off about things—" "So, can I leave?" Tara stopped her tirade, embarrassed that she had allowed this man to goad her into forgetting about her patient. Even if 148

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he was the most arrogant, infuriatingly snide son of a bitch she had ever encountered. "Yes. Let me just conduct one more comprehensive physical, to satisfy my critics, and then you can be released. Would you mind stepping outside?" Her pointed question produced a frown on her sparring partner's face, but Darren stepped outside without any further comment on her abilities. She took a deep breath to cleanse her anger and redirect her mind to the puzzle of the young man's illness. Tanner slid his arms from the sleeves that swallowed him up and allowed them to pool around his waist, hiding his intimate parts. Tara rubbed her hands together to warm them up, frigid hands seemed to be a professional hazard, and began to lightly examine the seemingly healthy body before her. "I'll be happy when you're feeling better, just so I won't have to see the human ice pop anymore." Tanner chuckled and relaxed into her touch, unselfconscious even when her focus shifted to more personal areas. "He can be overwhelming, but he means well." "When it comes to you he does. With everyone else, I'm not so sure." "He really hates uncertainty. There's no room for grey in his rigid world." Tara nodded her head, surprised by the young man's insight into the complicated character of his partner. Tanner was undeniably good for the older man, and for some reason Tanner seemed to blossom under the attention he received in 149

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return, whether it was positive or negative. She never would completely understand their symbiotic relationship. "Well, let's see if we can make you a white zone again." **** Darren stalked the visitor's lobby as he waited to hear from the red-haired doctor. He never seemed to get along with strong-willed females, no matter how far into eternity he lived. He knew his personality was dominant, some would say controlling, and that few people, particularly women, could stand up under the uncompromising force of his will. That was one reason he had chosen not to get involved in a steady relationship back on Earth. Another reason was that killing people for a living didn't foster the kind of trust needed to cement a long-term relationship. He glanced impatiently at the door to Tanner's exam room, fighting the urge to burst in and sweep the young man back to his suite, where they could continue their "team building" exercises. Only they couldn't, because they were partners. And he didn't want any entanglements, on the job or otherwise. And he certainly didn't need any male teenage brats weighing him down with expectations. If only Tanner wasn't so different from every other person he'd ever met. The kid took all of his unpolished personality traits and transformed them into endearing qualities. Darren remembered a lecture back in high school in his mandatory Marriage and Family course that highlighted the importance of 150

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finding a marriage partner who offset your flaws, and he had somehow managed to stumble across someone who did just that. Of course, Tanner could be the light side to just about anybody. He was upbeat, nauseatingly optimistic, energetic, and had a twisted sense of humor, among other attractive traits. He would have no trouble finding someone to build an afterlife with now that the lust between the two of them had hopefully run its course. Now, if he could stop the thought of Tanner with another person from enraging him, everything would work according to plan. In his mind he could see that perfectly tanned body spread out willingly for another lover, sultry blue eyes pleading to be taken, and his vision ran with red. When he finally managed to work through his rage, he found a tall, freckled Irish woman standing before him with a worried frown enhancing her too-pale features. Apparently Dr. O'Connor had managed to find something during her examination that was not kosher. "What did you find?" Darren asked immediately, disregarding preliminaries. If something was wrong with his brat, he wanted to be told the unvarnished truth immediately. Tara's fingers tightened around the clipboard she carried hugged to her chest like a shield. He had never seen her look as vulnerable as when she lifted uncertain green irises to meet the questions in his own eyes. The hand that smoothed a curly tendril of red hair, which had escaped the thick plaited braid, behind her ear shook with some powerful emotion. 151

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"Tell me," Darren instructed in a soft, persuasive tone. The last thing the shaken woman before him needed at the moment was forceful demands for information. He might be a cold bastard, but he was an expert interrogator. "I probably shouldn't. I mean, this kind of information should only be shared with his Division Supervisor. But..." "What is it?" Tara let out an explosive pent up breath, her tense shoulders sagging as she fought an internal battle with her ethics about the doctor-patient confidential relationship. "I found something important, but it is not related to his health. It falls under the category of an internal security risk." Darren's eyes narrowed as his razor sharp mind worked to decode the subtle information she was passing along to him. The only scenario that made sense of her words was ludicrous in every other right. "You found evidence that Tanner is a risk to the A.A.A.?" "Maybe. I don't know. I really need to tell Reed, but I'm afraid that when I do they'll lock Tanner away somewhere, all because of a mark that can't be easily explained." "A mark?" His stomach lurched with the unfamiliar rolls of fear. There was only one mark in their line of work that could spell disaster for an operative. "I might as well tell you because I know you won't rest until you find out what I've recorded in his private medical records. And maybe you can help me decide how to take this to Reed." The lady was damn right that he wouldn't allow any barriers between him and that information to remain 152

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standing. One of Dr. O'Connor's nursing assistants owed him a favor for the slime ball stalker he scared away from her months ago. She would be only too happy to make him a copy of the contents of the Simms file. Tara glanced up and down the halls of the medical wing before motioning for him to follow in the direction of her office. Once inside, she drew the blinds and made sure the door was securely locked. "Where's Tanner?" he asked, even as he wondered at the necessity of the precautions she was taking. "One of my nurses is finding him some warmer scrubs to wear home and helping him to complete his release paperwork." Darren nodded and remained standing instead of sinking into one of the leather upholstered guest chairs the Doctor indicated. He noticed that she was too nervous to sit as well, pacing the confines of the area behind her mahogany desk. "Tanner has a tattoo on the inside of his lip. The symbol is created by one vertical slash mark that is intersected near the top by two horizontal slash marks." "He's a hell slave? That's not possible." "I know it doesn't make any sense, but I saw the mark with my own eyes. I don't know how I missed it last time. I guess he's very good at hiding it." That was an understatement, considering how many times Darren had searched every inch of that mouth with his tongue without noticing. Of course, he hadn't been looking for a tattoo there, either. 153

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That wingback chair was looking really appealing all of a sudden. All the facts jumbling around in his head made no sense when they were put together, like a scrambled pictograph. He had to move the pieces around until a clear picture could be seen. Tara dropped into the rolling chair behind her desk, the frizzy flyaway hair around her forehead adding to her frazzled appearance. "We only have about another ten minutes to come up with a plan before Tanner is ready to leave." "Let's review what we know. Tanner has a marking of a similar type and in a similar place to a demon, or a ghost that is serving a demon. This seems to indicate that he's some sort of hell spy, except it's inconceivable that such a person could infiltrate our organization. There are rigorous physical and mental examinations that are undergone before a deceased person is admitted into the Agency. One of the reasons we never noticed Tanner had such a marking is the sheer unlikelihood of a demonic spawn being able to pass all the trials to enter our ranks." "You're right. It doesn't make sense, but what other explanation is there?" "Maybe it really is just a harmless tattoo." The skeptical look Dr. O'Connor aimed at him probably matched the one on his face perfectly. It was a little too coincidental to swallow without indigestion. One thing was certain. They didn't have enough information to base any conclusions on. His investigative mind was already spinning traps to set that would have his 154

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suspicious partner divulging more information about his mysterious past and the circumstances of his entry into the Agency, but Darren's heart vetoed every one. It insisted that the innocent, wide-eyed youth who had given him his virginity and the most memorable night of intense pleasure in his life could not possibly be an undercover agent for the enemy. Shit. This was exactly why it was a bad idea to become involved with someone at work. "Hold off on discussing this development with Reed. I want to spend some time observing Tanner first, and then I'll go talk to the Chief myself." Tara nodded, all too willing, it seemed, to remove this unpleasant responsibility from her slender shoulders. The kid had really burrowed into her heart, no surprise there, and obviously the thought of turning him in, even if it was justified, soured her stomach. "All right. I'm always available if you need someone to listen to any information you might uncover." "In other words, if I find out any good gossip I should come to you." Tara's cheeks flared the same color as her hair as she shot out of her chair and stomped to her office door. She was too easy a target to fluster, with her women's lib doctrine, and it was beyond him to depart without riling her up one last time. He knew she would give as good as she got. "I suggest you leave my infirmary before I make sure you need our services." Her smile was saccharine, but her teeth were clenched so tight they nearly popped out of her mouth. 155

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"All you had to do was ask," Darren drawled arrogantly as he exited her office, a smirk breaking out when he heard the door slam shut behind him. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Nine He really shouldn't be here. There were so many good reasons to transfer back to the office room at the division, the most compelling being that his partner would chant him straight to hell when he found out. Tanner sighed and melted farther back into the shadows of the trees that surrounded Alicia Brody's homespun cottage. As he gazed at the window boxes overflowing with pansies, and the cobblestone walkway that invited people to the door, he felt his guilty nerves settling. Darren and Sakura Mihato had come to a stalemate in their case pursuing the serial ghost, which had led Supervisor Reed to approve enlisting Ms. Brody's help in bringing the killer to them. If she agreed to act as bait for their deranged target, they hoped to bring him out of hiding and banish him once and for all. It wasn't going to be easy to obtain Ms. Brody's acquiescence, especially when the man they were trying to lure was known to be dead, which was exactly why he had pleaded with his obstinate partner to bring him along. Tanner was far better at persuading people than his straightforward partner, and the very reserved Sakura, so he was naturally the best choice. Unfortunately, neither his partner nor his supervisor had agreed with him. He was ordered to remain at his desk and complete the paperwork from his and Steven's last mission, which had been a dull affair involving an Alzheimer's patient 157

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who kept forgetting that she had said her last goodbyes to her son and daughter-in-law. Once she had been escorted to their house and had whispered her last words in their living ears, they had immediately facilitated her crossing over. It was a simple job, but that didn't keep it from stacking forms in a large pile on the corner of his desk. Obviously, Tanner had other ideas about how to spend his work day. He begged Steven to cover for him and say he was running errands if anyone should check, and then he transferred into the forest surrounding Ms. Brody's property. If anyone discovered his insubordination he would face serious consequences, including a suspension from duty, but too much was at risk to worry about that. Time had run out, and if they didn't trap and dispose of that hell slave soon, another victim's blood would be spilled across another sanctified altar. Tanner watched as Darren and Sakura conversed briefly on the steps of the small residence before being invited inside. Tanner waited long enough to ensure everyone was settled before creeping around to the back of the house where the window that looked into the living room was situated. The white lacy curtains that drifted in the humid breeze obscured his vision and made it impossible to place each person within the room without giving away his location, but their words drifted to him as he crouched between the flowering bushes beneath the windowpane. "I don't understand what you need my help with. I have nothing to do with that case." Ms. Brody's voice sounded nervous and suspicious. Not a good sign. 158

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"We believe there is a copy cat killer at large, attempting to recreate the serial killings of Alex Creaton. You match Creaton's victim profile and live in the area the man was spotted in before he died. We believe there's a good chance that this imitation killer has been watching you and waiting for an opportunity to strike." "My God! You mean he's been spying on me, invading my privacy..." Her voice quavered with the realization of how completely her inner sanctum had been violated. Darren's even voice continued, methodically explaining their plan and how she was a necessary component. Sakura remained silent throughout the exchange. Tanner wouldn't have known the other woman was in the room if he hadn't seen her enter the house earlier. "The best chance you have is to lure him into a confrontation while we're there to monitor and intervene before anything can happen." The argument sounded perfectly logical. The only problem was Alicia Brody was not in an analytical state of mind. Tanner could hear it in her shaky voice, and in the uneven breaths she took as she listened to the people posing as officers in her house. Her emotions had taken over, and no amount of sound evidence would convince her faltering heart that she needed to confront a cold-blooded killer. "No, the best chance I have is to get the hell out of here. I'm not going to let you lay me out on a platter for some psycho to come butcher me. I'm getting on the next flight out of this state and you can find some other idiot to sacrifice." "Ms. Brody—" 159

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"I am done talking with you officers. I want you to leave. Now." There was a hysterical edge to her voice, and Tanner had no doubt that she did plan to book the next available flight away from her tainted home, no matter where it landed. They were going to lose her, and with her their one chance at bringing down a madman who could hide away indefinitely without the right incentive. He couldn't think about the consequences of his rash actions. Darren would be furious, the Chief would suspend him, and Steven would have a nervous breakdown when they realized he had provided aid. None of that mattered. He wouldn't stand by and do nothing when he had the ability to recover this situation. Tanner ran around the house to the front door that Alicia Brody was about to throw his partner out of. Darren would not go willingly, but eventually he would have to concede or face involvement from the real local authorities. The cheery door before him swung open forcefully before he had a chance to knock. Alicia's eyes widened, and their glaze of anger was replaced by surprise. Her mouth formed an "o" shape, but nothing emerged. She jerked around to stare at the police trailing behind her in the entryway before returning her confused gaze to the man on her porch. Tanner could see her fear at being pinned down between them and strove to dissolve the tension before it exploded. "Ms. Brody, do you remember me?" he asked in a friendly, pleasant voice. His smile revealed his dimples, and his relaxed stance intentionally broadcast a sense of harmlessness. 160

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"Officer ... Simms?" Tanner nodded and avoided looking beyond the woman to the dark countenance of his partner. Darren knew better than to interfere with a distraction that kept their target from kicking them out on their asses, but there would be hell to pay later. "Yup. I know you're very busy, but if I could just have one moment of your time, there's something I need to show you in the back yard." The poor, overwhelmed woman nodded and followed Tanner around the house to her landscaped back yard. He was sure the only reason she agreed was out of fear that the killer who had apparently been watching her might have left a message of sorts. If that was the case, there was no way she wanted to be left alone to discover it. In the background, he was aware of Darren purposefully striding after them with Sakura following at a more hesitant, sedate pace. There was no way the older man would let him out of his sight, especially when he was meddling in a case that had been restricted. It was a good thing he excelled under pressure, because the force of those midnight eyes burning into his back was more than disturbing. When they reached the center of Alicia's back yard, Tanner stopped abruptly, Alicia backed up so their sides were once more evenly aligned. She squinted in the sunlight that was now more forcefully at their backs, and tried to spot what was out of place in her topiary Nirvana. Tanner breathed in the scents of flowers and sunshine, content to let his mind wander for a moment before the 161

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inevitable questions broke the peaceful silence. All around him were roses, climbing in every direction, defying gravity as they cascaded over walkways and twined around a gazebo. They bloomed in every shade of the rainbow, from the palest yellow to the darkest crimson. He might be an eccentric, spaced-out teenager, but he could appreciate beauty. Especially in the man who was standing back and giving him space to take a chance. That was an unexpected gift. He knew how controlling Darren could be, especially dealing with his responsibilities, so the fact that he was willing to turn the show over to someone else, even for a few minutes, mattered in a way Tanner's bruised heart was afraid to examine. "Where is it?" Alicia asked in a strained voice, proving his theory that she expected a calling card from her would-be killer. "All around us," he answered, allowing the awe he felt for her crafted scenery to flow through his words. "What?" She glanced at him with irritation and confusion, but the fear from moments before was gone, and he was right. This woman felt a strong connection to nature, and gathered her strength from being surrounded by its energizing tranquility. "The first time we came to your home, I was impressed by how much time and energy you've put into your garden. I only got to see it through the back window then, but what I could see took years of planting and maintenance." "Yes, most of my free time goes into my gardening. It's a hobby. What's your point?" 162

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"Who will take care of it when you're gone? Who's going to care for the life that you've nurtured from the ground when you've fled the state and are starting over in some nameless town without the thing you love most to comfort you?" Alicia looked away, apparently unwilling to let his words register and make a point, but it was too late. He could read the banked sorrow in her eyes as she gazed at her beloved plants, imagining them shriveling and turning brown without someone to care for them. "It's not just your flowers you'll be leaving behind. You have friends here, a job, and a whole list of the little things it takes a lifetime to build. Are you going to let this psycho take that away from you? He shouldn't have the right." Alicia blinked back the tears that had to be burning her eyes, and whispered in a choked voice, "I'm scared." Tanner lowered his voice to match hers. There was no reason the fake officers scrutinizing them needed to hear this part. "Of course you are. But I know you're a brave woman. You live here by yourself in this house, and you really live. You're not waiting for some guy to come along and fulfill a fantasy. You have the unique ability to be comfortable with yourself. If you team up with us, you'll be unstoppable. This stalker creep won't stand a chance." Alicia blushed and rubbed her hands up and down her arms, even though the temperature had to be pushing ninety. Apparently it was flattering to have her qualities appreciated by a man, even one several years younger than she. "I won't ever be alone with this guy?" 163

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"You have my word on it." "All right. I'm in." Tanner's face broke out in a Cheshire grin that nearly split his face in two. He had to fight to keep in professional mode and not jump on Alicia with a great big bear hug. Inside, his mental voice was whooping a victory song and his body ached to break out in a touchdown dance. But now was not the time for that. They were representing the NYPD, after all. When he returned to the soundproof confines of Darren's apartment he could celebrate to his heart's content. After he faced the wrath of the Chief and his disgruntled partner, that is. Darren didn't hesitate to swoop in and finalize arrangements with Ms. Brody. Tanner stood back and watched, his part done, as Darren arranged safe housing with her and set up times when they could meet and prepare for her role-playing part of their trap. He was calm, collected and knowledgeable. Every question Alicia popped out was answered quickly and efficiently. He might not be good at persuading people, but he was awfully good at directing them. Tanner felt a warm flush of awareness heating him from the inside out. Watching his one-time lover in his element, commanding the people around him with the ease of a general, was enough to make Tanner hard. His mind recalled the way those hands, currently scribbling contact information, had teased his nipples and jerked him off with confident 164

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pressure. That full mouth had licked every inch of him like a delicacy, and left him squirming and begging to be fucked. He shivered from his charged thoughts and tried to shift his focus away from the man, the taste of whom was an addiction. Darren certainly didn't have trouble finding things other than their dying sex life to occupy him. It had been two days, going on three, since they'd brought each other to numbing orgasm, and in that time they hadn't touched each other outside of what was socially required. Even then, if it was a choice between having Tanner grab his hand and having a cup of scalding liquid pour down his front side, Darren would choose to be burned. Not that being burned would slow down Tanner's nerveless partner, but there still was the inconvenience of having to change clothes. Tanner ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it more of a mess than usual. It now matched the way he felt on the inside. Three days without intimate contact with Darren had him going crazy. He kept replaying their lovemaking in his mind, searching for something he'd done wrong, but all that came back was his partner's groans of pleasure and the fierce way he'd been fucked into submission. At first he thought Darren was avoiding continuing their physical relationship because he had passed out afterward. Maybe his partner was worried about aggravating his unexplained condition. So he'd gone to his daily checkups without a fuss and followed Dr. O'Connor's instructions to the letter. He made sure not to overexert himself in any way, 165

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which was no easy feat for someone as hyperactive as himself. Still, in the face of a clean bill of health and no other episodes, Darren refused to touch him. Tanner had tried everything to entice the experienced man into losing control and taking him again. Tanner walked around the apartment in nothing but a low-slung pair of jeans or sweatpants. He brushed up against his partner every chance he got, and wouldn't speak to the man unless he could talk directly into Darren's ear, blowing warm air the entire time. The lack of response he received was maddening, especially when he could see stark need and hungry desire fighting behind those dark eyes. Darren avoided any private moments with him, but the man was always watching, following him and recording information with that computerlike mind, filing away details for some purpose unknown to Tanner. What was his partner waiting for? Did he need to write take me on his chest with whipped cream and lie naked on Darren's bed? Now, there was an image his cock liked. He could see Darren's long, rough tongue eating up the fluffy treat before dipping down between his legs... Tanner forcefully shook his head to clear it and cursed his teenage hormones. His need was to the point of physical pain, and the one person who could satisfy it was doing his best to avoid personal contact. That one night of unparalleled pleasure might as well have never happened. Darren finished speaking with Alicia Brody and immediately turned toward him, his jaw set in battle mode. This was going 166

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to be fun. A large hand clamped down on his wrist before he could back away, his partner's anger drifting around them like a dirty London fog. "You will learn to obey orders." The softly, but harshly spoken words sent a chill down his spine, not completely for unpleasant reasons. It seemed like a lifetime since Darren had willingly touched him, and he would take what he could get. Even during his worst times on Earth, and there had been some dark days, he had not thought of himself as desperate. Now, waiting for this man's touch with an intensity that bordered on addiction, he felt what true desperation was. "What about—" "Mihato will handle the relocation of Ms. Brody while I handle you." Tanner tried to convince his body that those menacing words were not meant to be erotic, but that became impossible when Darren yanked on his wrist hard enough to bring their bodies into contact. He barely had time to gasp before a strong pair of arms wrapped forcefully around his body and his mind experienced the blinking sensation of being transferred by another's power. When the world realigned, he opened his eyes to see the one spot that had captivated his imagination with a heretofore unfulfilled curiosity. He was in Darren's room, and he was not slipping into unconsciousness. It wasn't hard to figure out he was standing by the kingsized bed in his partner's room, even without any verbal cues 167

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from Darren. Unlike the living room, this room reflected its owner's personality flawlessly. All around him was functional, organized space compacted into a room arrangement that bypassed soothing in favor of utilitarian. The bed was covered in dark blue cotton sheets, no doubt of a low thread count, without a comforter or otherwise plush warmer covering. One wall was made up of wooden shelving cubicles, each one crammed full of papers and files, most likely from past cases, or cooking recipes for all he knew. The other wall that was not broken up by a bed or entrance held what appeared to be a closet doorway and a window, complete with a wooden, unpadded bench beneath the sill. There were no pictures on the walls, simply old parchment spreads of what appeared to be incantations copied in their original casting language. The man really did live and breathe his job. There were no electrical lights in the room that he could locate, but the slivers of sunshine stealing through the blinds that barred the room from the outside world allowed enough illumination for him to see the cold fury tightening Darren's face. One large capable hand gathered his arms together behind his body and pinned them against his back by the wrists, while the arm that was not a living manacle circled his waist and kept their bodies in full contact. He might have been mistaken in thinking that fury was cold... "You really didn't need to bring me here to beat out a confession. I'm more than happy to talk all the time. Just 168

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show me to the Chief's office and I'll talk myself right into a grave." He was babbling, the words pouring out in a nervous torrent that could not be plugged. As hard as it was to believe, he became more chatty than usual in situations where he didn't know what to expect from people. Being an extrovert, and a hyperactive one at that, had the advantage of not being at a loss with people very often, but the flagrant need burning inside him was unexpected and unsettling. He was aware of the lust and sexual cravings being repressed by his stoic partner, that much was clear from the heated glances that never quite connected with his own and the tense muscles that bunched and shifted beneath tempting skin whenever he drew near. But the magnitude of that desire left him shaken. There was a creature lurking beneath the calm exterior of his partner, clawing its way to the surface, and he had the harrowing feeling it was about to be unleashed. "There's no reason to bring Reed into this. I can teach you a lesson about obeying your superiors all by myself." The throaty words were muffled by his neck as Darren lapped and nipped his way down to a sensitive collarbone. "Ah," Tanner gasped as he licked suddenly dry lips. His mind replayed their latest encounter, searching for some clue as to why the resistant man sucking on his shoulder had suddenly decided not to fight the tension between them anymore. Maybe Darren's famous control had snapped again, for no other reason than he wanted this as badly as Tanner did. 169

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To hell with why, all Tanner cared about was how. As in how soon they could get naked and sliding against each other. Apparently Darren had the same concerns. Tanner refused to fully open his heavy-lidded eyes, but felt his body being backed up to the bed. When his knees bumped the mattress he went down hard, his recently released hands spreading out to the sides. He waited for the heavy weight of his lover to settle on top of him, but after a few moments of absence searched out the shadowed presence in the darkened corners of the bedroom. Darren emerged from the closet, something dangling from his right hand, and approached the bed with an intent fire blazing in his eyes. His lips turned up at the corners to form a possessive smirk as he took in the sight of Tanner sprawled on the bed, his unruly hair more tousled than usual, clothes wrinkled in a mess that was hard for cotton blends to achieve. "Thought you cut out of the party early," Tanner joked to lighten the intense atmosphere. "And let you off with just a warning? I don't think so. Lie back." Tanner obeyed, his submissive streak kicking in. Darren had a way of silencing his protests and obnoxious remarks, but only in the bedroom. When those dark eyes were seeing only him, devouring his flesh with their stare, and those capable hands were finding every hidden erogenous zone on his body, there was no room for rebellion. Who could fight something that turned them inside out and melted their bones? He wasn't that strong. 170

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"Straighten your arms out above your head." Once again Tanner obeyed, surprised by the soft rope that knotted around his wrists, drawing them together and binding them to the headboard. He gave an experimental tug and found the knots were secure. He couldn't escape, but the silken material wouldn't chafe his sensitive skin. His arms were also secured close enough to the mattress that his muscles wouldn't have to work to keep the weight of his arms off of his wrists. Rather considerate of his captor. "You keep ropes in your closet just to tie up sexy men you work with?" This time the joking words sounded whiney around the arousal he was nearly choking on. His cock was hardening and filling out the front of his baggy jeans, and there was no way to hide the evidence with his pelvis displayed for his lover's viewing pleasure. "I keep silk ties in my closet to wear to work, but they do come in handy when disciplining subordinates." The deeply growled words sent a shiver rippling from his toes up to his fingers, where he noticed the striped patterns that decorated his cloth handcuffs. Well, what do you know. He really was being restrained with an accessory. His partner was a more cunningly resourceful opponent than he had anticipated. Not that he could have prepared for being bound helplessly to the bed of his impenetrable fortress of a partner. Life was funny that way. And he was not exactly helpless. He could transfer out of his ties and the room; nothing but a binding spell could keep him there indefinitely. But there was no way to walk away 171

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from an aroused, aggressive Darren without a killer case of regrets. Plus, the older agent seemed intent on teaching him some lesson for thwarting everyone's orders, and this sexual exploration would most likely be the most pleasant of the chastising scenarios in the bag o' punishments. Darren sat down on the edge of the bed and just watched, his thigh the closest part of his body to Tanner, almost touching, but not quite. His opaque eyes drank in every detail, every flex of muscle as Tanner twisted and contorted and tried to come in contact with Darren. The power that gleamed in those polished eyes declared him the alpha male in this relationship as surely as the snarl that revealed even white teeth. Tanner didn't mind being dominated. Especially by muscular, dark, sexy men who could stare down a demon from hell with the same eyes that were marking him as cherished property. Maybe his partner had intended for this exercise to intimidate him on some level, to show him Darren was a force to be reckoned with. That point, Tanner was all too ready to agree with. Not even Reed was suicidal enough to mess with Darren when he was in full alpha mode. Tanner definitely had a healthy respect for his partner's abilities, and usually knew when to back off or risk being sliced open by the sharpened edge of Darren's blunt attitude. But fear didn't enter into the equation. Even now, he was willing to submit himself to whatever bondage fantasy was being played out, no thoughts clouding his mind other than the all-consuming need to come. His hips arched off the bed, 172

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searching for some pressured contact, and he moaned in frustration when they brushed nothing but air. The bastard actually had the nerve to chuckle. "Glad you're enjoying this. You really are a sadist," Tanner replied with his best pout and dewy eyes. Darren stretched out one large hand above his crotch and allowed it to hover, just out of reach of where Tanner's groin could lift. Finally, the middle finger extended to brush teasingly over the hardness that tented his dark-washed jeans. Tanner's hips shot off the bed with a needy cry, his body craving more. "Please," he begged, too aroused to be ashamed of caving so early in the game. Darren ignored his breathy plea, obviously intent on tormenting his sensitized body some more. The hand that had been feathering over his erection unzipped his pants and slid inside to barely caress him through the thin barrier of his boxers. Those maddening fingers gently outlined his hardened shaft, never applying enough pressure to take the edge off his arousal. Tanner bit down hard into his bottom lip, tasting the rusty flavor of blood and being too far gone to care. He yanked on his wrist holds again, his body arching off the bed with the force of his motion. Darren's hands stopped their torturous stroking. "Do not move your body off the bed, or I will leave you here." "But I want you to touch me." He really tried not to sound like a petulant child, but it was hard to be denied something 173

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he wanted so badly, something that seemed so close. The granite cast to his lover's eyes assured him there would be no compromise to this rule. He would receive his pleasure, but at Darren's pace. "I will, once you show me you can obey." The stroking resumed, the same light touch designed to make everything else fade into the background. There was nothing to feel except those talented fingers, as they dipped deeper into his pants to quickly fondle his balls before returning their attention to his cock. "Pleasure is not just about having an orgasm. It's about knowing when to hold back and when to let go." Tanner could only grunt a response when the fingers touching him so intimately finally began to stroke him harder and faster. They twisted around his cock and jerked in a way he had never tried himself before, but liked. He could feel the pre-come leaking from his slit and sticking to the thin material of his underwear. If he had been pleasuring himself, by now his hips would be pumping in time with his hand, mimicking the rhythm of his release. But Darren had forbidden him that luxury, so he twisted his feet into the sheets, hoping to become so entangled that he couldn't move if he tried. "I think you've earned feeling my fingers on you." Before he could comprehend the meaning of that statement, his pants had been pulled down around his ankles, along with the underlying boxers. It wasn't surprising that his stronger, more solid partner didn't need his assistance to get the bottoms down over his thin hips. 174

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For one insane moment he worried about his muddy sneakers getting dirt on his partner's sheets, before he remembered that Darren didn't actually sleep and possessing a bed was a formality for him. Then again, Darren was making love to him on the bed, so maybe there was some use in this apartment for this piece of furniture after all. Darren used the moisture spilling from Tanner's cockhead to coat his hardness and slide a hand along its ridge faster. Tanner was so involved in the sensation that was building in his tightening sac that he forgot to keep his hips pinned to the bed and thrust up into the warm hand enclosing him. "You broke the rule," Darren informed Tanner with regret as he removed his hand from Tanner's cock and stood beside the bed, staring down. Tanner was in the shadows that seemed to feed on Darren's large form. "Wait! I didn't mean to!" Tanner gasped, frantic to feel this man's skin touching him somehow. "You must learn to be aware of your body at all times. This will heighten your pleasure." It was obvious from the tick in Darren's jaw and the clenching of his hands until the veins stood out starkly that he wanted to be back on that bed as much as Tanner wanted him there. Tanner felt like cursing the stupid rule that had deprived him of long-awaited pleasure, but such an action would most likely earn him more penance that his body could not hold out through. Despite having lost its physical stimulation, his cock was not wilting and continued to leak clear, salty fluid on the hem of his T-shirt. "Can't we try again? One more chance? Please?" 175

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"I will leave you alone for ten minutes. If you can remain on the bed without touching yourself for that long, I will reward you." Tanner bit down on his lip again, this time even harder, and nodded his head to show he understood. What he wanted to do was transfer out of his bonds, jump on his partner, and lick every inch of exposed skin until they were helplessly grinding against each other. But Darren wasn't a one-night stand that he could afford to mess up. He had to play by the other man's rules or forfeit his spot in Darren's bed. More than anything, he wanted to display the maturity the seasoned Retriever expected in a bedmate. His lover exited the room and the waiting began. Tanner passed the time by imagining all the things he wanted to do to and with his partner. He wanted to feel that cutting tongue slide up inside him and fuck him until he was spread enough to be impaled. In his most arousing fantasies he saw himself straddling Darren's hips, slowly sliding down the engorged length that jutted out from powerful hips, controlling the pleasure for both of them. He knew Darren got off on slowing their pleasure, drawing it out to the breaking point, but at least once Tanner wanted to be begged for mercy. And one day he would be, he vowed. There was no way he was letting go of this man now that he had chiseled his way into Darren's life and bed. Darren better get used to the idea of being in a relationship, because Tanner was here to stay. The longer he lay there, the harder it became to resist drawing his thighs up to brush against his softening cock and relieve some of the gnawing need that would never go away 176

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until his lover returned to fuck him. He diverted this longing by trying to twist free of the ties that bound him, knowing it was futile but needing the distraction. When Darren transferred silently back onto the bed, naked and leaning over him with knees planted on the outside of his thighs, Tanner nearly wept. Everything he wanted in his universe had been returned, and he wasn't about to lose it again. He lay on the bed perfectly still, his breathing shallow and quiet as he waited for the next instructions. Darren's stoic face split into a sincere smile that reached down into his soul and shone it out through his eyes. The man was too beautiful for words. Especially when he was ripping away the clothes dangling around Tanner's ankles and tossing them to the floor along with his shoes. "You're learning, and I'm very pleased. Now for your reward." He wasn't ready for the warm breath against the head of his cock, or the warm, slick tongue that licked down his erection as it was sucked into that heated mouth. He wanted to wrap his legs around Darren's neck and thrust into his partner's mouth until he exploded, but just in time he remembered the rule. "Can I ... move ... please?" The last word rushed out as teeth gently grazed his sensitive flesh. "Because you remembered to ask, I give you permission." The words were spoken around his hard member, and the tongue forming them flicked against him erotically. Because of the distraction, there was a moment's delay before his legs 177

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wrapped around behind Darren and his hips pistoned off the bed frantically. It was impossible to imagine Darren doing this with another male lover, especially after his assertions that he wasn't gay. But Tanner was almost forced to overlook this prior data on the grounds that the man was too damned good at giving head. Not that he had a lot of experience to compare with, but he had to assume it wasn't normal for his entire body to be vibrating like a violin string as it heated to the point of boiling and exploded in an inferno equal to a supernova collapsing. Darren continued to milk the last drop of come from his cock, licking clean the sticky residue before leaning up to kiss Tanner, opening his mouth so Tanner could taste himself on those warm lips. Their tongues thrust against each other, hot and primal in their need, all gentleness gone. Tanner didn't know where the bottle of lubricant came from, was only miraculously relieved that it had appeared. He parted his knees and tilted his hips up off the bed, offering his lover better access. It didn't matter if he acted like a whore now. All that mattered was being filled and ridden toward another mind-blowing orgasm. Darren's cock was painfully erect, its head a dark, bruised purple with rivulets of pre-come dripping down toward its base. Despite his obvious need, Darren took time to prepare Tanner's tight hole for his entrance. When three slick fingers had found their way inside Tanner and were pumping his small channel, he glanced up from the arousing sight of those fingers entering and leaving him to 178

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find his lover watching his face. The look in Darren's eyes was so ... exposed. There were no barriers between his feelings and the world for those few precious seconds. The final wall between them had been broken down, their intimacy extending beyond the feel of their naked flesh touching. What he saw in his partner's eyes was ... a depth of warmth that left him feeling shaken and uncovered. Could Darren read the same thing on his face? He was sure his partner had no idea his expression was revealing so much. Was Tanner's own face showing how much in love he was? There was no point in denying how he felt, even if his partner decided to shut him out for good after sharing too much. That was a risk he had no choice but to take. He was in love with Darren, and would remain that way for better or worse. He'd wanted to make Darren remember what it was like to live and to crave that existence again, and in the process he'd found what he himself could not exist without. A forehead plastered with sweat-drenched bangs rested gently against his own, Darren's eyes closing and scattering their connection back into his memory, where it would remain imbedded as he continued throughout eternity. He closed his own eyes, feeling the gentle breath that stirred the fine hairs above his lips and beckoned to be let into his body. "I need you with me." Those softly spoken words could have referenced so many things. There was no reason for them to mean that Darren wanted Tanner to make his home with the man, but that was what his heart needed to believe. 179

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The ties holding his wrists loosened and then fell away as the knot was undone. He didn't have time to rub feeling back into his numbed hands before he was lifted and set on his knees, his backside facing his lover. Darren leaned over him, his weight forcing Tanner's slighter frame to bend until he was cocooned by that wet male skin. A warm hand caressed the smooth flesh of his bottom before he felt the blunt head of a large cock widening his entrance. He groaned and pushed back against that stinging sensation until Darren's large hands gripped his hips and held them still. "Don't want to hurt you," his lover forced out in a strained voice. "I'll heal," Tanner assured Darren as he gathered his energy and forced his hips back to impale himself in one quick stroke. The pain that lanced down his spine caused him to bury his face in the twisted sheets, elevating his hips and taking his lover deeper. Darren waited for him to recover, nuzzling his neck and teasing a nipple underneath the shirt he still wore. When the pulsing cock in his ass became too tempting to ignore, and the pain that scraped his nerves moved to the background, he shifted his hips and wrung a groan from the man filling him completely. "Finish ... the lesson," Tanner gasped as he threw his head back against the strong shoulder holding him up. Darren didn't need any other encouragement. He rammed his cock with abandon into the willing vessel cradled in his arms, one 180

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hand sliding down to the fully-erect shaft between Tanner's thighs. They were too hot, their motions too wild to prolong the ecstasy rippling up from deep inside him. Tanner opened his mouth to shout and instead heard his voice whimper as come shot out to coat Darren's hand. His body instinctively relaxed in the aftermath. Darren pumped into him a few more times before growling and filling his hole with a sticky warmth that dripped out into his crack and down his thighs. They both collapsed onto the bed, hearts beating out of their chests. Darren rolled to the side to avoid crushing Tanner, and allowed him to pillow his head on one firm pectoral. When Tanner could find his voice, it was to make a snide remark that had been in the making all evening. "I'm still wearing my shirt. Kinky." His human pillow made a surprised sound that could have been a laugh before replying. "I tied you to a bed, forced you to submit to me, and you think not removing your shirt is kinky?" "Now that you mention it, you do have quite a few fetishes." Tanner traced patterns in the dark hair covering the wide chest laid out before him, twisting it around his fingers and tugging gently before releasing it. He was content to enjoy the silence that had settled between them. It was a comfortable silence, broken only by the deep breaths of his lover and the softer ones that escaped his own slightly parted lips. 181

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Nothing in the quiet exchange prepared him for what followed. He found himself flipped over onto his back, Darren pinning him with his solid mass, one hand holding his head in place while the other stretched his bottom lip down to reveal a mark he had not thought about in hours. That had to be a new record. There was no point in trying to hide the damning tattoo that his partner had already seen. How Darren had discovered its existence was a mystery. Maybe he had been more reckless in the midst of their passion than he realized. Tanner could barely meet his partner's eyes after his mouth was released and the weight removed from on top of him. How could he stand to see the caring and acceptance in those orbs replaced by condemnation? Well, if life had taught him one thing before it killed him, it was that pain didn't go away just because you ignored it. He sat up on the bed and used one end of the sheet to clean the drying come from his body as best he could before slipping back into his boxers and jeans, preferring to have the following uncomfortable conversation with clothes on. Apparently Darren had the same thought, because he emerged from the closet with a fresh pair of black slacks on and a pressed white shirt waiting to be buttoned. "Say something," Tanner mumbled as he searched for his sneakers. How far had the man tossed them? Darren eyed him coldly as one clear circular disk after another slid through its designated hole. The walls were up in 182

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full force and it would take an illegal cache of explosives to break through them. Figured. Every taste of heaven cost him a piece of hell. "Why is there a tattoo on the inside of your lip that aligns you with one of the ruling families in hell?" The words were clipped and precise. Just the right amount of words to retrieve an exact amount of information. He was being interrogated by the man who had just humped his brains out. Perfect. Cuddling was overrated anyway. "I can't answer that. Can I pick another category, Alex?" Sometimes he used sarcastic humor, or pretty much any kind of humor, to hide his pain. It was better than lashing out violently. "This is not a fucking joke, Tanner! How can we be partners when I can't trust you? Are you working for our enemies?" Darren had used his given name. A bullet wound to the chest at point blank range would have hurt less. Darren only used his real name instead of a nickname when he was really worried or angry. How could things between them have fallen apart so rapidly? He wanted nothing more than to go back into Darren's arms, basking in the glow of what they had shared physically and emotionally. That Nirvana seemed to be slipping through his fingers at an alarming rate. "You trust me enough to sleep with me, but not work with me? What am I supposed to think about that?" "Think whatever you want, but answer the damn question." 183

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Hot tears burned behind his closed lids, but he stubbornly blinked them away. Whether they came from anger or pain, it didn't matter. Neither was going to keep him from losing the thing he wanted more than anything else. "I can't." Darren looked away angrily before forcefully buttoning his cuffs. Another kind of silence stretched between them, this one filled with ugly, unspoken accusations. "If you can't talk to me, I have no choice but to go to the Chief." "He already knows about my tattoo. Go ask him if you don't believe me. Now can we drop this?" If he thought the last silence had been loaded, it was nothing compared to the chasm that opened up between them now. "I guess it's my turn to ask why you can trust me with your body, but not your secret." Tanner had no words to respond, the truth of the question turned back on him ripping them all away. Not even after Darren transferred out of the room, and he was alone, could he speak of the awful events that were his history. "Even if I told you, I would still lose you," he whispered into the lonely twilight. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Ten It was hard to remember that he originated from anywhere. That, once, there had been a place that most people would nostalgically deem home, even for him. Darren had moved around so much from one foster home to another as a child, and then from one assignment location to another as an adult. But even a drifter like him had had a start. The city of Barrack in the state of New York. At the moment he was walking down the potholed streets of what remained of his birthplace, trying to reconcile the looted, broken-down mess collapsing around him with the depressed area he had visited nearly a decade ago. He didn't travel down memory lane often; the last time had been shortly after he had died and become a Retriever. Transferring was a skill that required arduous discipline and practice, and his hometown hell had been one of his target locations. Back then, there were still shops open, even if they operated at their own risk and not after nightfall. There had even been families living in the apartment complexes that loomed over the battered asphalt streets in a crumbling pile of bricks, but there were no lights on in the windows of these buildings now. Stripped cars lined the streets instead of the fenced-in trees he remembered. The only business signs he saw were flashing and neon, and advertised things that made his stomach clench, even after all the death and destruction he had given and taken. The solitary school building he passed was long since 185

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deserted, its walls covered in graffiti and its chain link fence cut away as markers for gang territory. Why had he come here? He had lived in this neighborhood with his parents for four years, before they were killed in a mugging and he became a ward of the state. The memories he had of his formative years in this place were fuzzy at best, and general enough to have been stolen from snippets of movies and TV shows that his blank mind had strung together. He didn't belong here anymore, and maybe that was the point. What he had just shared with Tanner, the things he had done and felt, were dangerous. Not just because he lost control and showed every card in his emotional hand, giving someone power over him, but also because the desire to belong could never be completely stripped away. In the years since his death he trained his body to thrive without food, or sleep, or any other physical excesses and enjoyments that could be exploited as a weakness. Sex had been a harder drive to purge, but even that craving had dimmed as he poured his existence into work and into becoming the ultimate harbinger of death to the unjust. Pain had been the hardest of all the Earthly sensations to deprogram. It was the one most deeply imprinted in the human psyche, the memories of its work lasting long after the events that brought it. But even that had receded under his iron determination, freeing him from the last entanglement of his life as an oxygen-dependent slave.

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One by one the vestiges of his humanity had been disposed of, except the overwhelming drive to find rest and safety with someone or something. Enter Tanner. Years of denial were coming unwound, thanks to the presence of one scrawny, disobedient brat. It was pointless to deny his infatuation with the kid at this point. Having sex with Tanner once obviously hadn't canceled out their attraction. Darren had tried to keep his distance after their first intimate encounter, despite the hurt and confused looks from his partner, using the excuse of Tanner's mysterious tattoo and its implications to bolster his resolve. The truth of the matter was he was afraid of the need Tanner had become. He only managed to stay away from the brat for three days before completely breaking down and practically molesting Tanner. That particular bondage scene had been replaying itself in the nightly fantasies he couldn't quite manage to banish. The real thing had been more erotic than his focused mind could reproduce, and was still detonating aftershocks of pleasure in his overcharged system. He got off on having control of his partner's pleasure, on teaching the art of prolonging mutual exploration until it matured into full-blown ecstasy. There was nothing better than having a willing partner, someone who would submit to his guidance and put themselves in his hands. Tanner had more than pleased him with his unguarded responses and open trust. Such a gift was double-edged. It opened his lover up to the sexual whims of the more experienced man, but it also opened Darren up to the addictiveness of the heat 187

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between them. He could feel his core temperature rising a degree or two just from remembering how it felt to be inside Tanner. Needless to say, whatever was between them went beyond just scratching a sexual itch. And the age difference between them had no bearing, now that they were dead and the aging process was no longer a factor. The reality of their partnership on the job was still a roadblock to whatever was developing away from work, and his professional dignity was not something he was willing to compromise. But there was always the possibility of requesting a new partner. After all, Tanner worked well with that idiot Carlisle, and Sakura surely preferred someone who had a maturity level higher than a nine year old... Even the fact that Tanner was male didn't hinder his interest the way it initially had. He didn't consider himself gay, had always been attracted to women during his living years. They were just so nicely put together, their bodies flowing in a pleasing symmetrical pattern. Women were lovely when they were naked. Men just looked silly. Apparently Tanner was the exception to a lot of rules. Not only was he the one male in life and beyond who could make Darren consider himself a bisexual, there was also nothing funny about seeing him naked. Tanner was simply gorgeous. If gods roamed the Earth as free spirits, natural and sunkissed, they might approach the perfection of the tanned sprite that drew beauty to him like debris into the eye of a storm. The kid looked like summer, golden-toned hair and eyes as rare as water in the desert, but smelled like a walk 188

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through a forest in wintertime, the strong scents of peat and wood smoke mingling with the icy freshness of sleeping vegetation. No woman could compete with that aesthetic, nor with the innocently raw sexuality Tanner emitted with the practiced ease of a charlatan. The brat could make him hard just by looking at him. His body definitely had no complaints about his lover being male. Damn it. Darren couldn't believe what his mind was doing: finding ways to dissolve all the complications that stood between him and fucking his partner into exhaustion. He didn't want to need Tanner. He didn't want to crave being with the brat, or the sense of coming home that enveloped him when they were together. Needing things led to desperate attempts at fulfillment which ultimately led to a breach of ethics. He would not be that weak. And Tanner obviously didn't trust him as much as their sex led Darren to believe. Tanner had confided in Reed the secret behind his connection to the demon hierarchy, a secret that visibly weighted the young man down with remorse. Yet he refused to share this information with the partner he allowed to tie him up and forcefully butt fuck him. Tanner made no sense. From the beginning of their acquaintance his words and actions had been unpredictable to Darren, as if he was following an agenda that Darren couldn't understand. And maybe he was. Everyone had an agenda, regardless of what they claimed. 189

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The question was, did Tanner's agenda include them being together, or was that a side effect? He really couldn't believe the kid was capable of spying for the demonic forces of the underworld. Especially since getting into the A.A.A. was a nightmare of red tape even when your record was spotless. Being associated with demons and getting through the doors was approaching impossible, especially after factoring in the particular talents of their operatives to sniff out dark forces. One thing was certain. They couldn't move past whatever the kid was hiding until it was out in the open. The next move was Tanner's. Darren had been mindlessly walking for nearly half an hour now, too caught up in his mind's wanderings to notice as his surroundings changed from urban to suburban. The tall buildings were less common, and now there was gravel. He saw fewer businesses with more space between them, until it all dropped away to clusters of brick townhouses, each with their quarter acre of brown yard contained by a rickety fence. There seemed to still be life in these outskirts of the cancerous town, although he had no idea where they found a living in these decaying boondocks. Children's toys were scattered around, deflated balls and bikes with broken wheels, but he saw no one playing on their miniature lawns and he heard nothing that could be mistaken for laughter, or even crying. He did smell something, though. It was the scent of something rotten ... a corpse left out in the sun to decay. It was the odor of a familiar evil drawing near to him. 190

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Somewhere nearby a demon lurked. Whether Darren was on duty or not, his job was to find this anomaly and trap it away for eternity. The direction of the wind indicated the scent was drifting to him from the area he had just passed by. In the distance he could make out the looming shape of a gutted warehouse, the last monument of production before the landscape turned more residential. He began to walk in that direction, his steps unhurried since there was no one around who needed to be defended. Outside of the warehouse, the smell was strong enough to trigger his gag reflex before his control snapped back into place. He must have really been lost in thought to miss such a pungent odor when he passed by the first time. Darren closed his eyes and reached out with his heightened senses, searching for the location of his prey in the dark rubble that shifted beyond the boarded-up windows. Judging by the dried blood stains he could smell within and the small splinters of bone that still sprinkled the floor, this building had once been some kind of meat processing plant. His eyes snapped open when he detected what he was searching for. The demon was in a room located at the back of the building, and the awareness sent back along to him through the probe indicated his quarry knew he was coming. The insolent little prick intended to take him on. Darren's lips twisted in a dark imitation of a smile. He was in just the right mood to kick some demonic ass. Breaking into the dilapidated building was no challenge. He chose to kick in the pressboard panel nailed over the remains 191

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of a doorway simply because he was in the mood for violence, but he could just as easily have found an unobstructed entrance by walking the perimeter of the building. The wind drafts that cycled the musty scents and dust within had to have openings to allow them to cross within the building. Inside the condemned warehouse would have been pitch black, if not for the holes in the ceiling that allowed moonlight to trickle down through moldering support beams and illuminate glass shards littering the cement floor from the broken light panels overhead. He could now see the brown blood stains he'd smelled outside, dripped across the floor and pooled around certain pieces of rusted equipment. What a lovely tourist attraction. He needed to remember to come back when he wasn't stalking a deranged creature. Or he could just save himself the time and induce his vomiting into the toilet bowl in his own apartment. Fucking wonderful. Now he sounded as sarcastic and off balance as his hormone-driven partner. What did he need to do to get the kid out of his head? He didn't move stealthily through the shadows abundantly provided as cover, or attempt to muffle the sound of his shoes smacking the hard, unpolished surface of the ground. Even if the demon hadn't been forewarned of his presence, he was ready for a bloody, heads-on battle to clear the confusion muddling his brain, or at least distract him from it. The closer he drew to the source of evil before him, the clearer his foe became to his otherworldly senses. His opponent was clearly a true demon, from one of the lesser ruling families, his stench of power detectable but not 192

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overpowering. There was no human scent attached to him, so Darren didn't need to worry about performing an incantation for a possessed ghost. This would be a straightforward trap and expulsion, no messy souls involved. The room inhabited by his enemy was even less hospitable than what he'd seen so far, with bloody metal meat hooks hanging from the ceiling and grimy cleavers imbedded in long tables. The smell of rotting flesh was nearly strong enough to mask the stench of the demon itself, and Darren was grateful that his body no longer required him to breathe, even though the action remained instinctive. His quarry wasn't visible to Darren's physical eyes in the darkened cell, but his ethereal abilities detected its presence lurking in the vicinity, toying with its unexpected kill. "Come and face me, hell spawn. I don't have all night to wait out a demon fledgling." The hiss from the shadows confirmed that his goading words had had the desired effect. Demons didn't look or think like humans in many aspects, but they did share many of the same failings. Most demons, especially those of the ruling classes, were proud to the point of foolishness. "Brave words for an insignificant, expired human. I have known power longer than you have known existence. Prepare to know the extent of evil aged to its most vile." An inky form detached from the night and drew closer to Darren's alert stance just inside of the fragmented doorway. His eyes connected with the red, glowing orbs of his nemesis, situated in the slimy folds of dripping flesh. These damned creatures didn't possess horns or cloven feet like their 193

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mythical brethren, and few traveled with the aid of webbed, bat-like wing appendages. But they did possess the reek of brimstone and the visages of mutant humans, with their four misshapen limbs and runny facial features. They reminded Darren of the few burn victims he'd seen firsthand on some of his less pleasant assignments. Instead of skin, their forms were covered in an oozing red mess of what resembled exposed, bloody tissue, muscles, and veins. What passed for eyes, nose and a mouth appeared melted on their faces, like wax sliding down the edge of a candle. Nothing was symmetrical or harmonized about their kind, their evil corrupting from the inside out. Darren's heartbeat accelerated and adrenaline flooded his body, heightening his already advanced deductive abilities. His hands remained steady at his sides, his body giving no indication of its battle-ready state. This forced aura of calm had been learned decades ago, when his chosen path on Earth required him to disappear with the stealth of a hunter, to sit for hours in silence, and to wait for the perfect opportunity to take a shot and claim another human life. He could face off with this demon for ages and not twitch a muscle, so complete was his mastery over the fight or flight reflexes of his body. He was acutely aware of the firearm hidden in the waistband of his pants, the barrel pressing into the small of his back. It was unusual for Darren to bother carrying a gun, on an assignment or off, especially since all it could do was buy him time. A bullet could hurt and stall a demon, but it wasn't enough to stop or kill one. For some reason it had felt 194

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right to slip this leftover from his assassin's life on to his person while dressing, a throwback to the days when he had relied on his instincts to bring down a target. "If you are so powerful, then give me your name. Let it be the last thing I hear," Darren goaded, lavishing impudence on to his words to provoke the demon's anger. The hell servant hissed and shifted slightly back into the caress of the shadows, an unconscious display of weakness. It was alluded to in ancient texts, so old there were no words in the modern English language to capture their meaning, that a demon could actually be destroyed if the right incantation was spoken using the creature's house and given name, which was tattooed on the inside of its bottom lip. Such a personalized spell would not just send the abomination back to the depths of hell, but wipe it from existence in all realms above and below the Earth. This theory had never before been tested because no member of the A.A.A., including their most experienced Retriever, could understand the demonic name symbols or how to pronounce them. No demon who traveled topside would divulge its family name. Such an act would be suicide. Not even the people who were possessed by demons, the hell slaves, or who served demons of their own free will would commit such an unforgivable sin. It was true that evil went by many names among living humans, false titles that were chanted with reverence but held no true power. Even Satan himself was called many things, including Lucifer and the Devil, but no one would ever know the name seared into his hidden, sensitive flesh. The 195

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Agency would fight evil with the weapons time had provided, and hope to God that was enough. "Do not think that your time spent with the Demon Slayer will protect you from my wrath. I have no fear of his twisted abilities." The demon's words were spiteful in their hatred, the brightness in its mangled eyes contradicting its claims of indifference. "The Demon Slayer?" Darren was not comfortable with allowing his confusion to tip the scales in his enemy's favor, but the hissed words were tugging at something important buried deeply within his mind. "I can smell his stink rising from your body. Even if he has shared his knowledge of my people with you, you will never get close enough to use it against me. I will kill you where you stand!" The pitch of the demon's words rose into the range of hysterical as it launched its slight form into the air. Darren's mind was so preoccupied with the mystery hidden among the creature's words that the assault took him by surprise. He managed to feint to the right just in time to avoid being burned. The demon doubled back on him with amazing, ragefueled speed. He was able to dive out of the way one more time, the cuff of his suit jacket getting singed in the process. He needed to find a vantage point to begin his binding chant before the hell spawn caught him in a web of dark lightning. An insane cackling filled the dim chamber in which they fought, the demon confident in its ability to slaughter the human shadow that opposed it. Darren dove behind one of the granite chopping blocks and breathed deeply, centering 196

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his mind and drawing on his awareness of the current battlefield. All that had come before was cast out of his thoughts, including the intriguing information his enemy had unknowingly shared with him. "Where are your brave words now? Your actions show you to be nothing more than the weak remains of a coward. I have killed children who gave me more trouble. One little girl in particular, no more than five years old, scratched at my face until it was a bloody mess. That was until I burned her alive." He knew the beast baited him with the details of its disgusting kills, but he refused to allow his mind to be sidetracked by the grief he could feel trapped within the walls of the building falling down around him. He extended his senses to their fullest, seeking the cries of agony vibrating from the structures around him, trapped there by the power of such horrific endings, clogging his ears with their last desperate pleas for mercy. He allowed each of them inside, each voice adding power to his own. The dead would finally bring justice to their killer. "I will burn you until there is nothing left, not even your name," the demon vowed with maddening glee. Its dark lightning shot past where Darren crouched, burning into the wall at his back and showering plaster and wood shards down upon him. Darren didn't flinch or shield himself from the shrapnel that pelted him as the storm around him built in intensity. A wood beam split from the ceiling and crashed to the floor a 197

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mere foot from where he concentrated, brought down by another blazing burst of electricity. Still Darren held his ground, drawing the echoing emotions of the demon's victims into his spell and weaving their thirst for revenge into his words. Soon they would be strong enough to stop the monster in its tracks, to drop it into the dark depths of no return. "Is this your great power? The power to hide from your enemy? Come out and face your eternal death with the 'honor' you humans are stupid enough to place value in." The statement was punctuated by a longer, more powerful strike of dark energy, this one squarely catching the sturdy table Darren remained behind and dissolving it into useless kindling and pebbles. The force of the explosion slammed the Retriever onto his back, his arms coming up to ward off the debris that rained on his body with bruising intent. Black stains covered his clothes where the heat from the explosion had burned patches, tears forming in his suit and skin from the sharp projectiles. Now there was nothing between Darren and the creature that longed to destroy him. He swiftly rose to his feet, the final touches to his incantation hastily completed, and hoped it would be enough. To defeat a creature of such power required the aid of its own sins. The demon didn't ask for any last words, knowing the power of speech, but raised its twisted, gnarled hands above its head, the crackling of its power filling the air with the buzz of sound and the jolt of contained energy. Its face was 198

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twisted with hatred and backlit by the dark power that danced between its palms like snakes. "There you are, human stain," the demon slurred with its puffy, warped lips. It was secure in its victory, completely unprepared for the pain that was gathering inside Darren like raging waters behind a dam. Darren's eyes became unfocused, and his awareness retreated to the background of his consciousness as the repressed emotions of countless victims were channeled through his mind. He felt his lips moving and knew words were being spoken, but the content of his speech was as much a surprise to him as his enemy. "Countless years we have watched you, our bodies destroyed and unable to seek the revenge that is rightfully ours," Darren's voice echoed off the concrete walls, magnified by the speakers in the memory fossils he had collected. "Now the strength to bring justice is ours once again. You will feel the never-ending torment we have felt, knowing you no longer hold any part of us captive. Return to hell and burn!" The hell creature screeched in fury and launched one last desperate attack against the host body it now knew harbored the emotional remnants of its past victims. Black lightning consumed Darren's vision as it spiraled toward him with unforgiving heat. As if in a dream, he saw his right hand lift and push away from his body, palm facing out toward the demon. Ancient words spilled from his lips, the sound rising with the angry ghosts rallying in his mind. "La lego con l'aria..." I bind you with air... 199

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The dark energy arcing toward him immediately fizzled into nothing. "La lego con l'acqua..." I bind you with water... The demon covered its ears with its mutated hands, trying to block out the sound of its doom. "La lego con fuoco..." I bind you with fire... Darren was aware of the blood lust diminishing within as the demon hunched over in pain, incapable of defending itself. The angry spirits he played host to began to settle as their prey grew weakened. "Nella Terra e sotto il suo Sentinels..." Into the Earth and beneath its Sentinels... The ghosts were dispersing into the natural universe, returning to a peaceful state now that the demon was bound on all four sides. Darren's voice returned to its normal pitch as he spoke the last sentence of the incantation that would permanently silence this particular evil. "Potere queste colonne custodiscono contro lei per l'eternità." May these pillars guard against you for eternity. The demon let out one last piercing howl before it shrunk in on itself and disappeared from sight. Its horrific smell still lingered, along with the damage their fight had created, but the anger and pain that had clung to the walls like a moldy residue were gone. This place was purged of the emotions imprinted on it in death, allowing the last shreds tying those ghosts to this plane to be severed. The afterlife would now truly be restful for those souls. "May a Sentinel always stand guard," he whispered out of habit. These words were not part of the expulsion spell, but 200

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they brought a sense of closure to him. He didn't know if the guardian against such evil would always be himself. Eternal death was a realistic possibility, but that didn't matter as long as someone carried the mantel. Darren's mood darkened as the high from his successful battle faded. He picked his way back out of the suffocatingly dusty building, choosing to stall his return to the A.A.A. Even the high from such a potent victory could not distract him long from the puzzle that awaited his return. Who the hell was his partner? The demon had mentioned the name "Demon Slayer" in connection with someone Darren had had contact with recently, otherwise the creature would not have been able to smell that person on him. Especially since he'd so recently changed into a fresh suit, the scent must have come from his skin. No one had made skin contact with Darren in the last twenty-four hours except one person. And that person had made contact with every inch of his skin. Darren stepped out into the cooling night air, aware that he'd left his protective trench coat back in his apartment, and contemplated the enigma that was the young man who had come to completely dominate his life in such a short time period. He closed his eyes, focusing on a dark room where a solitary window cast less and less light as the night wore on, and prepared to meet his fate. ****

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Only a small part of Darren was surprised to find Tanner keeping vigil in his room when he transferred in. The majority of his mind was convinced that his partner wouldn't allow any conflict situation to lie without resolution. Can't let the naysayers escape that easily. His partner sat on the bench beneath his window, gazing out into the shadowy night as if it hid the secrets to his heart's most elusive desires. The natural light turned his golden skin pale and highlighted the dark circles eclipsing the bruised, reflective eyes. His hair appeared the same ethereal shade as the moonlight, blending perfectly. Tanner had pulled on loose jeans and a grey cashmere sweater. Even in the warm ensemble he sat with his knees hugged to his chest, his hands absently rubbing the length from kneecap to ankle. "Not all knowledge is good." The small, defeated words barely registered in Darren's advanced hearing spectrum. He moved closer to Tanner, while maintaining enough space between them to give Tanner the illusion of being alone. Tanner seemed to need the lonely bubble he'd constructed around himself to get through what he needed to say. "It doesn't need to be good. It just needs to be useful." Tanner didn't look at him when he spoke, but he did glance down at his knees, seeming to silently come to terms with what he was about to do. "I'll let you decide how useful the story of my life is." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Eleven "I wasn't lucky enough to be orphaned at a young age like you. My parents kept their life-sucking claws in me until the end." Darren sat on the edge of the bed, outside the realm of Tanner's peripheral vision, and listened with the same intensity the man applied to everything. Tanner appreciated the mental space his partner was giving him, especially as he knew the detective in the older man was salivating for answers. Darren swallowed this version of him as smoothly as every other variation he'd seen so far. The teasing, carefree persona Tanner wore like a comfy pair of sweats had been traded on occasion for reckless bravery, soul-shattering sadness, and uncontainable passion. What he showed his lover now was world-weary bitterness. "I'm not making light of what you went through as a child. I'm sure it was devastating. I'm just saying the flipside ain't so great either. I guess it's true that only the good die young." "You died young," Darren pointed out with predictable calm. Tanner snorted and continued to avoid looking at the man waiting to judge him. "I'm the exception that proves the rule." "Maybe you break the rule. You've certainly broken enough of them around here." 203

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He smiled at that remark, pleased with the irritation he'd managed to wring out of the stoic man. Even the memories of Darren pissed as hell at him would be savored when the man he loved left him alone. In his life, the pattern always held true. If he wasn't feeling pain, then he was alone. "You have no idea what kind of rules I've broken at this agency. But you will soon." He didn't wait for a response to the enigmatic statement. If he didn't hurry up and force out all the words jumbled in his head, the ones staggering his heartbeat, they might never come out. The view outside Darren's window was soothing, all starlight and whitewashed nature, and he focused on the sight as his sad tale unfolded. "My dad was pathologically obsessed with being in control. He felt physical abuse was a necessary measure to keep my mother and me in line. Whether I argued with him or not made no difference. I still received my beating, just so I knew the possibility was always there. By the time I was eleven I had visited the emergency room four times, twice for broken bones, once for second degree burns, and the last time for severe hypothermic shock." Darren didn't gasp or react with any other signs of startled horror. Of course, the man had been a trained killer for nearly a decade of his life. He had caused more damage with those large, strong hands than Tanner's father ever could, the same hands that touched every intimate place on Tanner's body with gentle reverence. That contrast was oddly comforting. "I went to the emergency room a couple of times after that, but by then I was beyond feeling hurt by his abusive 204

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actions. When he beat me and left me outside in the winter cold, unconcerned about whether I froze to death or not, all my illusions about his behavior being motivated by some twisted kind of love vanished. At that point I knew he was a monster, and I no longer cared about fixing my relationship with him, only surviving it." The self-deprecating smile he allowed to form on his face probably didn't hide the gaping wounds he'd been trying to bandage by himself for years. "That's one battle I lost." "Your own father killed you?" If Tanner had hoped for outrage or some other kindred emotion in that deep, unsettling voice, he would have been disappointed. But he knew Darren well enough by now to ignore the monotone question and look into Darren's eyes for the first time since the man had reappeared in the room. What he saw in those fathomless orbs made him shudder and whisper a quick prayer of thanks in his mind that he was not the reason for such cold, unchanneled anger. He only hoped his next words would not result in that torrent being redirected to him. "Not exactly." A raised eyebrow prompted him to continue. "I thought that when I reached adulthood, I could finally get far enough away from my father to start over. He never let me get a driver's license and always discouraged me from forming any friendships, desperate to keep me dependent on him, but I was still determined to escape. Even living on the streets was a better alternative than watching the way he 205

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verbally beat up my mother until she had no will left to fight, even for her own son." Tanner had to pause and take a deep breath. Remembering the thin, scared refugee his mother had been when he last saw her was more painful than any of the abuse he endured. Her once-lustrous blonde hair had been greasy and knotted, her eyes sunken and lifeless. She was so afraid of displeasing the man she had married that she would rather take no action than risk his displeasure. "Once I became old enough to help bathe her when she'd had one of her bad days, I tried to convince her to leave him. It really didn't matter if she took me with her or not. I just wanted her to leave so he couldn't use her against me." "How did he use her against you?" Darren's voice was misleadingly calm, like the surface of the ocean that hid a tsunami gathering on its floor. "He would accuse me of doing things to make her love me more. If he had been anything close to rational he would have realized that it took no effort on my part. But I didn't care about those lies. They were just excuses to beat me, and he could easily make up other reasons once she was gone. The hard part was when he would make me choose. I could either ... take a longer beating or ... I could choose to let her take some of my punishment." Tanner closed his eyes, fighting to hold on to his anger in order to keep the sadness in check. He'd already cried shamelessly in front of this man once before, he didn't need a repeat performance. 206

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"You were just a little kid. She was a bigger, stronger adult. You can't blame yourself for—" "I never let him beat her instead of me. I always chose to take the complete punishment on myself. But each time, it got a little bit harder. I could feel myself weakening, especially when she would see me after, bleeding and hurting, and wouldn't even risk bandaging me up for fear of his anger. I came so close..." Tanner sucked in a calming breath and swiped at his eyes. So far, his partner seemed to empathize with the difficulties in his childhood. Maybe the next part of his tale wouldn't be so hard for Darren to understand. "On the day I turned eighteen, she killed herself. Drank a bunch of toxic cleaning chemicals and locked herself in the basement so no one could get to her. When I got home from school that afternoon, I went looking for her, sensing something was wrong. None of the chores around the house had been done. She was compulsive about keeping the house clean, even on her zombie days. Seemed to think the old man would go easier on her if she did." Tanner shook his head, amazed at how one man had so completely ruined two lives. "I found her in the basement after forcing the door open, and managed to drag her up the stairs and bury her in the back yard. I knew my father wouldn't spend the money on a funeral, not even for the woman who gave him everything, including her sanity. I didn't cry one tear that day. Her death was a long time coming, and I thought with her out of the way, finally at peace, I could get away." 207

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Tanner swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat. He desperately longed to curl up on Darren's lap and be enclosed in those strong arms, held safe against the memories that still haunted him in the afterlife. The only problem with that scenario was he didn't know how his partner would respond to the truth behind his death, and he didn't feel like being tossed on the floor. His fingers traced patterns on the fogging window, the result of the heated air inside and the cooling night air outside mingling on the transparent surface. He used to do the same thing at night as a child while his parents argued on the other side of his bedroom door. More accurately, while his father yelled and his mother cowered. "What happened next?" Darren asked when the silence drew on and Tanner remained transfixed by the designs his finger was creating against the backdrop of the night. "With my mom gone, I started spending more time away from home. I decided to stay until I finished school, spending as much time away from the house as possible. There was no one to take care of there anymore, so as long as I got home before my father did at seven, I could do what I wanted if I could find transportation. I ... met a girl and we became friends. It never went beyond that. I guess I knew even then that I was more interested in guys." Tanner glanced at Darren from underneath his messy bangs, coyly checking his response. His partner seemed displeased at his mention of having a relationship with a girl, but then again maybe he was frowning because Tanner had 208

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alluded to the subject of them both being males and still having sex. "Her name was Jennifer Hummel, but I called her Jinny. She was sweet and compassionate, pretty shy, and I could make her laugh. That was a new experience for me, making someone laugh. Once I got her to, I became addicted. Decided I always wanted to be the guy who helped people find the humor in their crappy lives. So you have her to thank for the obnoxious pain in the ass I am today." "I'll hunt her down and thank her properly later," Darren remarked dryly. "She's in a place where you can't follow," Tanner replied, mood turning somber once more. His memories of Jinny had lightened the burden on his mind temporarily, remembering some of the crazy things they had done. One time, they had popped enough Jiffy Pop to fill up the girl's entire closet, and then hid under the bed to watch her mom come to put away laundry. He would never forget the sound of the woman's surprised shriek as a mountain of buttered popcorn rushed down on her like a landslide. "He killed her," Darren predicted with absolute certainty. "I don't know how he found out about our friendship, but one day Jinny wasn't at school. I didn't worry at first. She had bad asthma, so I thought she was sick with a complication from that. When she was out a whole week, I started to worry. When her mom called to ask if I had seen her, I began to suspect what had happened. That night I saw her dead body on the news, strangled with some thick cord and left stripped in a park on the other side of town. The police had 209

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no leads, especially as they believed the motive to be robbery, but I knew who'd killed her. The bastard even had the nerve to taunt me with her death. Claimed I killed her by becoming friends with her." Darren muttered something, his voice too strangled by anger to talk in a normal tone. Tanner couldn't be sure, but it sounded like he had said "fucking asshole." "By that time, I was so overcome with grief I didn't know what to do. My mom's death had been expected, and after all her suffering it seemed like the only merciful end to her pain. But Jinny ... she was young and full of life. She helped people, even outsiders like me. When she died, I lost it. I attacked my father, tried to kill him. I got a few solid hits in. Usually I wouldn't stand a chance, but I was so angry, and he was surprised I would dare to try anything. It wasn't enough. He beat me up and left the house to go get drunk." Tanner paused and bit down hard into his bottom lip, needing the tang of blood in his mouth and the throbbing cut to ground him in the present and push the darkness of his past back into the edges of his psyche. "When I was alone, bleeding on the floor of our kitchen, I realized that he would continue to hurt everyone I loved. I wasn't strong enough to stop him, I might never be. So I made the choice that ensured nobody else would suffer because of me." "You killed yourself," Darren spoke in a grim, hoarse voice. "I figured hell couldn't be worse than what I was going through." 210

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"How did you do it?" The words seemed forced from Darren's throat. Tanner was afraid to make eye contact, but when he eventually attempted it, Darren was too busy staring at the hands he had clenched tightly in his lap. "I sprayed toxic bug repellant down my throat." "That's how you got that tattoo. You killed yourself and you went to hell for that unforgivable sin." Tanner nodded, too transfixed by the sight of his partner's agile mind fitting the pieces of his life together to speak. "But that makes no sense. When you go to Heaven or hell, it's for eternity. How did you end up at the Agency, especially with a blemish like suicide on your record?" Tanner nearly winced at the reference to the taking of his life as a "blemish." He knew the more experienced Retriever meant no offense by it, but sometimes the man's attention to protocol and ignorance of social interaction was more than a bit grating. "You're right, usually there is no leaving either place once your soul has been transferred there., But my case was brought up for reconsideration when I did something that no one had tried to do before." Tanner mischievously extended the moment, drawing it out until Darren opened his mouth to yell at him to get on with it already. He was feeling incredibly relieved by his partner's casual acceptance of the circumstances of his death, at least for the moment, and needed an outlet for that unaccounted emotion. "I killed a demon." "You what?!" The man exploded with enough force to make Tanner cover his ears. 211

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"I killed a demon. They're not indestructible, you know. Most people being tortured in the fiery pits just don't try because they don't want to piss off their pitchfork-toting slave drivers." "And that makes sense. If you have to spend forever in one place, it's best to stay on good terms with your neighbors." "Well, this particular neighbor had it coming. He was rather inconsiderate with his endless torture and lame taunts." "How the fuck did you kill a demon on its turf, surrounded by hundreds more?" Hearing awe in the voice of the man he loved and admired above any other caused a warming sensation to spread out from Tanner's belly and tingle up his neck and into his cheeks. He might never be the epitome of manhood that Darren was, a hot as sin killing machine, but that didn't matter when those dark eyes were fixed on him, intent on remembering every detail. All he really needed was to be everything Darren wanted in a life partner. "I remembered a Catholic prayer that Jinny taught me. She thought my dad was possessed by demons and taught me a prayer, in Latin no less, to say when he started to come after me. It was supposed to cast out evil, or the Devil, or something along those lines. The only thing I did different was to speak the name of the demon in place of a general evil, and the creature screamed and dissolved in front of me." "The Demon Slayer..." Darren whispered, seemingly to himself. 212

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"What?" "They call you the Demon Slayer." "How do you know that?" "I have my sources." Tanner ignored the implication that his partner was in no hurry to share said sources, focusing instead on the relief of coming clean once and for all. The last barrier in his mind to them sharing what remained of their eternity together had been removed. Of course, he still had no idea where his lover was in terms of accepting their fated union, but if the man knew what was good for him he would give in to the young hot thing that wanted to play with all his juicy bits. What the Demon Slayer wanted, the Demon Slayer got. "Things would have gotten really messy if my little hero act hadn't led to an Archangel appearing and spiriting me away to the Agency. Letting me into Heaven is still not an option, but giving me a chance to be useful here is good enough for me." "That still doesn't explain why Reed would pick you for his team. I would think he would see committing suicide as an unacceptable weakness." "I don't know. Maybe. All I know is he was plenty willing to have someone on his team with one dead demon already under their belt. And because of my time spent in close proximity to the demons in hell, and the fact that they saw me as no threat since I was to be there for eternity, I was able to learn how to decipher the arcane language used to guard the secret knowledge of their house and personal names. That information has the potential to shift the power 213

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in our favor, from being able to merely banish demons to destroying them. Not only that, but I also developed an immunity to the dark lightning the demons attack with. It still hurts like a son of a bitch and can kill me, but because of my prolonged exposure to it as their 'honored guest' for all those years, I've gained the ability to regenerate from its damage at a much faster rate." "Which explains why you recovered so miraculously from that demon attack," Darren mumbled nearly to himself as he sifted through the dirt in his mind to uncover the last buried artifacts of truth. "Why did you experience those fainting spells after getting hit with the dark lightning? Is that related somehow to your time spent in the netherworld?" Tanner affected a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders. Just because he lived the experience didn't mean he understood everything about it. "I don't know. Seems to just have been random side effect of the recovery process. There's still some effects I'm experiencing in relation to my time spent roasting down there that I can't logically explain. And my ability to kill demons outside of the one I eviscerated in hell hasn't been tested. Which is probably why Reed agreed to put me with you. You're the only one here with the experience and complete disregard for his own safety necessary to help me hone my abilities." Darren locked his perfectly-chiseled jaw, fighting to keep some comment from slipping out. Whatever it was had to be harsh, considering the older man didn't hold back on anyone. If for no other reason, that showed Tanner that he was cared for. 214

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"I don't need to be concerned for my own safety because I don't make mistakes." The disbelieving look Tanner shot his partner was returned with an upraised eyebrow that dared him to contradict that statement. If only the blood was not leaving his brain and traveling southward. Just watching his partner dominate the space around him, relaxed and ready to command everyone and everything within it, was enough to make Tanner half hard. It really was amazing that two distinct alpha males like Cox and Reed could work together without their division constantly being at a state of red alert. Tanner decided he had had enough of looking. It was time for some touching. The only reaction Darren gave to his lap suddenly being full of squirming teenager was an assaulted grunt. Any other responses were derailed as Tanner cleared his mind and focused on another destination before transferring their connected bodies out of the room. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Twelve Darren jerked away from the lips that were tempting him to kiss, disgruntled at having lost control of the situation. Being transferred without his knowledge or permission was enough to put him in a state of vexation that made a grizzly look like a lithium patient. "Where the hell are we?" Darren demanded as he stood from the wet, grass-covered ground and attempted to dislodge the human barnacle clinging to his waist. Tanner's legs tightened around his torso, refusing to back down, and unless he wanted to hurt the kid he had no choice but to relent. For the moment. He was far too devious and resourceful to go long without getting his own way. "A place I discovered when I was practicing my transference. Your apartment is nice and all, smells like you and sex, but I thought we'd try something different." Their surroundings were certainly a change. Wherever they were, it was in the same time zone as the plane the Agency existed on, which was probably one of the reasons the brat liked it. There was no time change to get used to. Night was just beginning to lighten into day, mist becoming dew on the knee-deep, thick grass that coated the forest glade they occupied. On the other side of the dense pine trees that abruptly ended a few feet from where they stood, Darren could make out a small lake, maybe a pond, surrounded by cattails, saw grass, and typical low-growing vegetation found in freshwater marshy regions. The splashing sound of frogs 216

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and the piercing cry of a crane provided some sensory input that existed outside the labored beating of his heart. Darren turned around, still carrying an armful of gleaming boy flesh, and noticed the small wooden cabin, nearly small enough to be considered a shack, falling into disarray out in this barren wilderness. "Who lives here?" "I dunno," Tanner replied in a muffled voice as he nipped along Darren's jaw. "It's been deserted ever since I found it months ago." "How often do you come here?" He felt the slender shoulders connected to the arms draped around his neck shrug. He tried to focus on gathering information on how secure their surroundings were, and not the soft pink tongue sliding against his stubbled chin. "Don't worry," Tanner assured with an impish grin. "I wouldn't lead you into a paranormal war zone." Darren grunted an unconvinced response and once more attempted to drop the squirming teenager, who was far too distracting in this unfamiliar place. He might be dead, but the killer instincts that had seen him through so many missions on Earth were much harder to silence. "Why should I trust a kid who can't stay out of trouble at the Agency for an entire shift?" More anger bled through the words than originally intended as he fought to displace the young man who meant far too much to his sanity already. The sudden, absolute stillness of the body in his arms pulled Darren's eyes away from their surroundings. All he could see now were twin pools of intensity, determination 217

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shining brighter than the light peeking over the horizon, reflecting off the startlingly blue irises. "Because your safety matters to me more than anything else. Because ... I ... I love you." Darren closed his eyes, forcing away the honesty he heard in the words Tanner spoke and saw in the expression on his lover's beautiful face. How could a person so full of life choose someone like him? He'd chosen death in more ways than one years ago, and that decision seemed irreversible now. He now knew the incredible story behind the mark of the damned that his kitten carried around like a painful scar, and he believed what his partner had told him. If he didn't, it wouldn't take long to go to the Chief and crosscheck the facts, but he knew in his heart that would be a waste of time. Damn it. Since when had his heart become so involved? He didn't need this. He shouldn't have it. So why did he want it? He'd spent years teaching himself not to want. The idea of opening himself up to all the pain and uncertainty that came along with letting oneself desire scared him like the Lord of hell never could. "There's no future for us. I enjoyed the pleasure we brought one another, but I have no intention of making a life with a teenaged boy or anyone else." Darren ignored the aching pain slicing through his heart and kept his expression carefully guarded. Tanner needed to know that he couldn't afford to back down.

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His resolve must have shone through, because those hauntingly blue eyes couldn't keep contact with his once sadness began to eclipse the hope that dwelled there. "Then give me one last time to remember," his kitten whispered as their lips met in a gentle collision, salty tears flavoring the intimate contact. Even if his body language had been inarguably convincing, it was unusual for the kid to give up so easily. Darren tried to follow this pattern of thought through to some rational conclusion, until deft fingers slid into one of the open spaces between the buttons of his shirt and grazed over his flesh. "It's better to just end it now," Darren bit out around the groan of pleasure that threatened to rip out his throat. "Please," the kitten in his arms whispered as Tanner licked Darren's bottom lip, eyes closed to enjoy the inner world of heated sensations alone. "We can't. I'm going to transfer us back." "Please," Tanner repeated in that soft, husky whisper. The hand that was stroking close to a hardening nipple moved to take hold of one of his larger ones and guide it to a rosy, glistening pair of lips. So very slowly, each finger on his hand was taken in to that warm, moist hole and drawn back out with Tanner's saliva glistening along its length. Darren could feel his heart rate increase as the brat began to suck harder, tongue flicking over the end of each finger before running down the side and encircling. Soft mewls escaped his young lover's mouth as Tanner continued to suck on the digits like a favored lollipop. "Listen, brat—" he tried to bite out, voice ragged. 219

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"Please, let me touch you. I just want to feel you all around me. Inside me." Those blue eyes were locked onto his once more, Tanner refusing to back down. The quietly pleading words had the force of a sledgehammer on his gut, pounding away at his breath and leaving him weak in the knees. He might have been able to put up a better fight if he hadn't wanted this so badly himself. It would take all the resolve he had left to walk away from the kid. He would probably need to be assigned a new partner, since keeping his hands off the young man would be nearly impossible. He would walk away from the gates of paradise, but not even he was strong enough to walk away without one last taste. "One last time," Darren relented out loud. Tanner nuzzled into his neck, the top of his head bumping into Darren's jaw, which was already tightening with the effects of desire. "You intend every time we make love to be the last time. Maybe that's why it's so hot." Darren groaned at the seductive words, feeling the bulge between his legs grow. The brat had no shame and saw no reason to dance around sexual matters. He would miss having such an open and playful lover. His large hands slid down a narrow back to clamp around the small back end that was too tempting as he backed them up against the trunk of a stalwart tree. The kid's eyes flew open when he felt the rough bark of the tree against his back, but they slid shut again when Darren's tongue forced its way into his mouth. A battle 220

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ensued, with each fighting for dominance of the kiss until neither of them cared anymore. Darren's tongue swiped over every surface of his lover's mouth, sucking on the smaller tongue that came out to play. Before they broke apart to pant and catch their breaths, neither could keep from thrusting against the nearest body part with mindless abandon. "Need ... to slow down," Darren gasped as Tanner unknotted his tie and slid it from around his neck. "Want you now," Tanner disagreed, as he continued to unbutton the dress shirt that stood between him and warm skin. "We should at least go inside that cabin. I'm not crazy about exposing my naked body to strangers." "But it's such a nice naked body." "Tanner—" he began in warning. "Don't worry. Like I said, no one ever comes here. Besides, doesn't it turn you on, thinking someone might see?" Darren groaned and shook his head in exasperation. The brat was trying to kill him. "Anyone could come along and watch as you slide inside me. I bet they'd feel all hot just watching you slam into me while I'm screaming in pleasure." Darren captured that dirty mouth with his own before the picture his sex kitten was painting pushed him over the edge. He didn't need any more foreplay to get him ready. His cock was full and heavy in his pants, precome sliding over its engorged head. "Less talk, more undressing," Darren ordered. Tanner laughed, but obeyed. Darren had to set his kitten down for a 221

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brief moment so pants and shoes could be discarded without falling over. Tanner wasn't wearing any underwear, about which he only shrugged slyly when questioned. Soon his kitten was back in his arms, legs locked around his waist as their hardened shafts slid against each other and hands roamed exposed flesh. Tanner's nails dug into his shoulder blades, surely leaving behind crescent shaped marks, when one of Darren's large hands gripped both their cocks together and began jerking them off simultaneously. "Oh, God!" Tanner gasped as he bit down on Darren's muscled shoulder. "Was that a call for help or a thank you?" Darren forced out in a rare moment of humor. "A prayer that you don't stop." Tanner's hips jerked in rhythm with Darren's aggressive strokes, their precome lubricating the motions but still allowing for mind-blowing friction. The rough bark of the tree had to be cutting uncomfortably into the brat's back, but the sensation of having his cock stroked obviously superseded anything else his nerves were trying to tell him. Tanner's head fell back against the tree with enough force to thump loudly, but the pumping of his hips never faltered. Darren continued to grind their erections together in his sweaty palm, Tanner's slender hands gripping Darren's dark hair and holding his sucking lips to the brat's neck. Darren feasted on the tender cords of muscle there before heading north to plunder the sweet mouth he couldn't get enough of. The kid refused to drink any beverage that wasn't sickeningly sweetened, and his mouth tasted perpetually of sugar. 222

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Darren sped up the motions of his hand, enjoying the desperate whimpers this wrung from his young lover. His kitten was so close, as he was himself. He forced himself to hold on, wanting to be sheathed in the warmth of Tanner's body when he came. The fingers of the hand not reducing his lover to an armful of shivering response slipped between the crack of the sweet ass he was still cradling in his palm, rimming the entrance with a sweat-slicked touch. Tanner immediately jerked back against that soft caress, demanding to be penetrated, a sentiment that echoed in every nerve of Darren's being. "It'll hurt. Don't have any lube," Darren warned the young man humping in his arms, the desire-fogged blue eyes indicating that his lover was past caring about any pain involved in his claiming. "Just want you inside me. Please." The last word was a desperate, throaty plea Darren found impossible to ignore. "Just relax," he instructed soothingly as a finger delved into that tight flesh and stretched the channel for his cock. He worked up to three fingers quickly, made impatient by the begging that continued along with the soft breath blown against his sensitive ear. He continued to jerk them off with one hand until he felt his lover's opening was sufficiently prepared, and then both hands lifted up the finely-muscled body and lowered it down onto his cock. Tanner gasped at the dry entry, which still stung despite the stretching, and Darren held still to give him time to accommodate being filled without the aid of lubrication. 223

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Tears leaked from the corners of Tanner's clenched eyelids, moistening his flushed cheeks, but he still wiggled his back end against the cock lodged inside him, silently requesting his lover to move. "You're beautiful." The quiet words slipped out before Darren could think to stop them. He would have been embarrassed if he had the energy to spare, but at the moment all of his reserves were tied up in holding the weight of his partner against a tree and fucking him until they both passed out. "No. This is," his kitten responded just as quietly, suddenly lucid eyes pinned to Darren's. The need to leave his scent, to mark the young man in his arms, to prove his ownership, was strong enough to be labeled a primal instinct. He withdrew his cock and slammed it forcefully into the willing body in his arms, wanting his lover to feel him days after they were separated. The thought of anyone else having Tanner this way, legs and heart open with blinding trust, closed off Darren's throat, and he nearly choked on the bitter emotions. Tanner cried out as he was pounded into over and over again, clutching the wide shoulders to keep a hold on his sanity. Soon the only sounds in the clearing were the slapping of Darren's balls against the young man's ass and the labored breathing of the two men lost in each other's embrace. Darren increased the pace of his thrusts, grinding his hips against Tanner in a way that rubbed the cock trapped between their bodies. He could feel the younger man's balls 224

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tightening as he rode the edge of orgasm, and dipped his head to tongue a hardened nipple. His kitten cried out and came, the extra stimulation plummeting him into a release that rippled through his entire body and fisted the still pumping cock in his ass. Darren gritted his teeth and allowed himself to come. When his mind resurfaced, Darren found himself on his knees in the wet grass, Tanner passed out in his lap. He was grateful that his body had somehow managed to keep his arms locked around the unconscious young man, even as the rest of him fainted like some airheaded schoolgirl. His partner did not regain consciousness, even when lifted and carried to the decrepit house nearby, a fact which stroked Darren's ego. Inside the shack he found sparse furnishings, consisting of a rough wooden table, one wooden chair with only three legs, and a narrow bed with a lumpy mattress and broken box spring. It certainly wasn't the Hilton, but it was isolated and should be a safe enough spot for the kid to sleep off the aftereffects of a powerful orgasm. Just to be sure, Darren placed some wards around the cabin that would immediately alert him if the perimeter was breached before Tanner came to. Darren redressed his partner, refusing to leave him in a vulnerable, naked state, and silently watched the narrow chest expand with each breath. He remembered another time when the brat had passed out after their lovemaking, due to less pleasant circumstances. The thought that he had just used the word "lovemaking" in place of "sex" or "fucking" disturbed Darren, and alerted 225

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him to the fact that he was already in way deeper than was good for Tanner or himself. The kid claimed to love him, but he was anything but experienced in the ways of love. He was probably mistaking gratitude, lust, and admiration for love. At least Darren hoped that was the case. No reason the both of them should be slowly dying inside. Damn it. He thought he'd killed all connections to the fleshly life of his past. When the hell had his heart started beating, and then ceasing in his chest, filling him with raw agony? Darren shook his head and prepared to transfer to the Agency. It was still too early for anyone to be on duty, but he had some paperwork to catch up on before seeing Reed. Now was as good a time as any to discuss making his partnership with Sakura a permanent thing. Glancing one last time at the sleeping youth on the bed, drinking in the domestic sight he would not be seeing again, he faded from the room. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Thirteen "Come in!" Malcolm Reed responded gruffly to the assertive knocking on his door. He already knew who he would see before the door opened. Only one agent in his division knocked on the door as if it was an unnecessary inconvenience. Darren stalked into the room, dropping into one of the leather guest chairs with a loud creak from tight material, his ever-present black trench coat flailing out around his legs. The dark circles under his top Retriever's eyes and the rigid set to his shoulders shared more about the man's state of mind than the opaque eyes that silently watched him ever would. Whatever was putting pressure on this strong-willed man would break him if he didn't take care. "What can I do for you, Cox?" He began with his usual straightforward, official inquiry. Beginning with anything personal was a good way to erect walls between them and send the antisocial man snarling from his office, devouring anyone who got in his way. "Things are working out with Agent Mihato and I being paired together, and Simms and Carlisle seem to be ... stomaching each other. I think we should make this new team arrangement permanent." Was that jealousy he heard in the Retriever's voice when he spoke of his partner's new team-up, or was Reed imagining that? It was true that Darren worked well with Mihato, while Stephen's and Tanner's temperaments were 227

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much less explosive when combined, but there were reasons for the teams he assembled, and they had less to do with personal preferences and more with achieving results. "I'm pleased that things have worked out while Tanner was recovering, but as soon as he is cleared for more active field duty, I want the two of you back together." He watched the tick throbbing in the other man's jaw closely, counting the pulses until the agent gave full voice to his displeasure. "The kid clearly isn't cut out to be my partner. He was already severely injured on a job with me, and you want to throw him back to the wolves? Do you have some kind of personal vendetta against him?" Reed leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable for the battle about to commence. He valued Darren's opinion rather highly; the man had more experience as a Retriever than nearly all of his other agents put together. But every once in awhile that expertise would clash with Reed's management duties. Today was one of those days. The facet of this encounter that shocked him was the subtle, but growing, feeling that Darren's argument was fueled less by business concerns and more by personal feelings. "Simms had a few hard knocks to start out with, but there's no cure for rookie mistakes except experience. You're the agent in this division best suited to watch over him while he gains that experience." "You want him with me so that he can learn how to put himself in greater danger. Just because the kid has discovered the talent for killing demons doesn't mean we 228

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should encourage him to use it. For crying out loud, Chief, I thought you had more sense than that." Darren had gone from cool reserve to explosive anger in record time. He was quickly approaching volatile, and it was Reed's undesirable job to see that he was brought back under control. Funny how the young man they were discussing could make this contained man lose touch with himself and his surroundings. The fact that Darren knew about Simm's extraordinary talent answered any questions he had about whether their relationship had gone beyond professional. He still didn't know to what extent the couple was intimate, but there was no doubt it went beyond the regulations for partners working together. The question he needed to deal with now was whether Darren wanted a different partner because he intended to get closer to Simms, or to push the young man away. There was no way he could simply ask the question and expect any response other than stony silence or volcanic yelling, so his reconnaissance needed to be subtle. Ignoring the insult to his mental faculties, choosing instead to offer the emotionally stressed man some leeway, Malcolm responded with, "I shouldn't need to remind you of the impossible number of cases that cross my desk every year. There are too many demons roaming the Earth and causing damage for this small division to handle already. The last thing we need is for those damned creatures being banished to warn their brethren who to watch out for and how not to get caught. If there is any opportunity to break that cycle of 229

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learning that's taking place, I will take it, even if it means risking the welfare of one of my people. Everyone who signs on with me knows that my mentality is the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Now, are you trying to tell me I need to make an exception for Simms?" Darren's icy mask was back in place, his voice no longer seething with anger when he spoke. "You know I'm not an advocate of special treatment, but the kid's circumstances are unique. He chose to join our division to get out of hell, for fuck's sake." "Cox," Malcolm warned the agent to watch his language with a superior. "I'm just wondering if all of your expectations were fully disclosed before he signed his afterlife away on the dotted line." "Cox, I am always on the level with my employees when it comes to topics that affect their personal or professional lives. Simms knew exactly what he was getting into when he joined our ranks, and furthermore, he sought me out to apply specifically to this branch of the Agency. I think it's time you were honest with yourself about how your personal feelings for Simms are affecting your judgments on the job." So much for being subtle. It was a skill he maintained rather well, could not have risen to the top of the Retrievers Division without, but in the face of friendship he ultimately had to call it like he saw it. Darren's fingers clenched on the padded armrests, the pulse at his neck beating erratically as some internal battle was waged. Ever since Simms had joined the division his 230

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friend had begun to change, slowly and in small ways, but to the few who knew Darren well, the differences were glaring. It was like your foot waking up after falling asleep in an awkward position, painful as the blood was restored to the body part and it began functioning again. Simms had started the hurt-filled process of reviving Darren's existence, and Reed could accurately guess how ungrateful the man was for that gift. "Malcolm, I can't do my job while I'm busy worrying about him getting hurt." The words were soft enough to be nearly inaudible, and Darren couldn't look him in the eye until after they were spoken. Malcolm knew how much it had cost the agent to speak aloud such a personal weakness, which was why Darren had addressed his superior by his first name, calling on their friendship to help the Retriever through this difficult admission. Malcolm sighed and leaned back in his mobile chair, rolling the wheels slightly in an effort to buy time to think. He needed to tread carefully through this situation. Too many issues swamped the field, both private and professional, and he needed to proceed with care if he planned to keep his agents happy and his division productive. Usually the bottom line was 'whatever got the job done with as little loss as possible.' In this situation, he found the bottom line to be far more elusive and messy. What mattered, beyond all the bureaucratic crap that he ingested and spit back out, was the happiness of one of the few trustworthy friends he could claim in this existence they had 231

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made for themselves. Their souls would never be allowed true rest, but any small amount of contentment to be found on this plane was worth pursuing, and he was afraid Darren was about to lose his chance because of baggage from his previous life. "Darren, I know you saw some dark things in the life you led before you came here. I've seen the darker side of life, too, and it isn't easy to forget, no matter how long you're dead. But we get another chance to make things right for ourselves, and I'm worried that you're gonna make the same mistakes you did before." "Look around you, Reed. We're dead. This isn't paradise or some kind of limbo that we'll eventually get out of. This is what we get to look forward to for the rest of our conscious existence, unless we get fried by some demon. There are no happy endings here." Darren's lip practically curled in a snarl as he spit out the words. Malcolm just shook his head sadly, unsure how to make this friend see that life, in any form, was still preferable to death. "You're right. There's no eternal rest or Heaven waiting for us, but what do you expect? We're the screw-ups. We're the killers and the thieves, the prostitutes and the unbelievers. We aren't good enough to live out our lives without having to work for our happiness, but there is something in each of us worth saving, and that's why we're here and not burning in hell. You surrounded yourself with death on Earth and cut yourself off from anyone who could really care for you, and you're doing the same thing here. It isn't living and feeling that causes the pain you're so afraid of, it's making bad 232

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choices, and people do that no matter how isolated they are. What you need to do is grow a pair and tell Simms how you feel, 'cause you're not doing yourself or anyone else a favor with all this denial bullshit." Darren merely stared at him, dark eyes as wide as could be. Apparently Malcolm's little pep talk had made an impression. It still remained to be seen whether that impression was positive or negative, but he really didn't know how else to get through to the aloof man who practiced stubbornness like an art. "What will happen when he dies a second time, and no amount of suicidal good works can bring him back?" Darren whispered from a raw-sounding throat as his fingers massaged his forehead. That was an all too valid concern from Malcolm's point of view. They worked a dangerous job, and their souls were not safeguarded like those who would spend an eternity in either the worst or best possible place. If a demon used dark power on them to the extent of short-circuiting their bodily functions, they would not be coming back in any form. He could see why Darren would hold himself back from a relationship with so many risks for failure. But, in the end, he knew firsthand that regret was a more painful emotion than loss could ever be. "You'll keep going and keep on sending psychos like this serial killer to a place where they can't hurt good people anymore. I know it's not easy, Darren, and I can't tell you that everything will work out happily ever after, and that somewhere down the line you won't be in here crying on my 233

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shoulder. But I will tell you what I know, because your happiness means something to me. Simms makes you live again. He makes you take chances with other people, and that is invaluable. For you to give that up out of fear of the unknown future seems criminal to me." Darren lifted his head from its bent position and regarded his commanding officer with a dark expression that was not anger or sadness, but a cocktail mix of both. His eyes were flat and unresponsive, and Malcolm feared that his words had been too much for the emotionally closed-off man to process. "Why should I take relationship advice from a man who hasn't dated since he was promoted to the top of this division?" That was a question Reed had been expecting. Even though he was a private man who didn't share the details of his personal life with coworkers, Darren was too good a detective and a friend not to know about his lack of prospects over the years. His friend just didn't know the real reason behind his lack of a social life. Even now, he found the details too overwhelming to share in conversation for the benefit of someone else. "I don't date because I'm still waiting for one specific person, not because I'm afraid of opening up to someone." The wiseass remark he was expecting after his calm declaration never came. He looked back across the desk to where Darren sat, his dark eyes filled with a warm understanding that Malcolm had never before seen. Maybe the man knew far more than he let on, and had simply taken the opportunity to confirm his suspicions. 234

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He cleared his throat and decided to steer the conversation back into the safe waters of Agency business. They were still on the clock, after all, and he was still a hardnosed, workaholic boss who could not let his starched image slip. "Simms will be accompanying you and the four other agents of this division, providing backup for the Alicia Brody case. Before you open your mouth, the woman requested his presence as a condition of her agreement to be bait for our trap, so this is non-negotiable. She claims his presence calms her, or something like that. Anyway, he's being checked out by Dr. O'Connor right now to give him clearance for this assignment, and I'm sure she will be quite thorough. Here are the parameters of your involvement in the setup, as well as the duties of the other five agents you'll be supervising and coordinating. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that you'll be leading this demon hunt." Malcolm paused in his briefing as Darren flipped through the photos and information provided in the manila folder just handed to him. Darren's eyebrows remained drawn together above his nose, but there were no other changes in his expression. "As you can see, Simms will remain in the background of this operation. His only job is to be a support person for Ms. Brody. He will not be expected to take part in the binding or the banishing. Just watching you in action will be enough experience for the time being." Even though he knew there was no 'thank you' coming for keeping Tanner out of the trenches, he knew equally that his friend was relieved. Now if Cox could figure out a way to get 235

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his partner to be obedient to his orders and really stay out of the action, the older man's troubles would be over. "What about the decision to re-partner me with Ms. Mihato permanently?" "That decision will wait until after we stop Alex Creaton. If you still feel the same after this mess is cleaned up, come talk to me again." Darren rose from the still-creaking chair, the mission folder tucked under his arm. No sign of the hurting man he'd spoken to remained, and Reed knew this conversation would never be revisited. "You know I'm not fickle with my decisions, Reed. What I want now won't change in the span of a couple of days. I'll be back." Reed leaned back in his chair as his office door closed solidly, his smile turning into a grimace. No doubt Cox would be back the minute the case was resolved, demanding his superior assign him a new partner. And that was fine. He had no desire to change the man's mind about his request. He merely wished to change Darren's reasons. **** "It looks to me like you've made a full recovery. Have you experienced any more dizzy spells or losses of consciousness?" Tara O'Connor asked in a brisk, professional voice as she looked over the young man seated on her table in Exam Room Two. She stood to the side of her patient as she finished extracting a vial of blood to run tests on, 236

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avoiding the sneakered feet that swung back in forth in boredom. Tanner always struck her as hyperactive, his ability to sit motionless for any length of time nearly nil. The only time she'd seen him completely still was when Cox had carried his unconscious body into the infirmary. She tried not to let the unsettling memory distract her from her work as she swabbed the elbow joint clean with alcohol and taped a cotton swab over the small puncture wound to stop the bleeding. "Nope. Feel like my old, indestructible self." Tara smiled at the young man's cockiness, too aware of the sadness in the brilliant blue eyes that no amount of forced humor could mask. Something was bothering Tanner's resilient spirit, and she wished they had the kind of relationship that allowed him to confide in her. Maybe all he needed was a push. "I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable, but I feel I should tell you as part of doctor-patient complete disclosure." Tara paused, finally meeting the eyes of her patient, who was still sitting on the paper-covered exam table even though she was through with her examination. "I discovered that tattoo on the inside of your bottom lip, the one that marks your association with a demon caste family." Tanner didn't seem surprised or upset by her declaration. Instead, his expression changed to one of comprehension, like the pieces of a puzzle finally settling into place. "So that's how he knew," Tanner whispered; she didn't think he intended for her to hear. 237

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"I confided this information to Agent Cox, only because I didn't want to take it to Supervisor Reed and risk getting you in trouble. I know that's a breach of the Medical Code of Ethics, and I want to apologize to you for sharing personal information with someone who's not listed as an emergency contact." "It's okay, Doc. I know you didn't mean any harm by it. You just wanted to protect me. Don't beat yourself up." Tara's shoulders slumped in relief and she barely resisted the urge to bear hug the young man. She hadn't realized how bothered she was by this violation of her patient's rights, the first she had ever committed in all her years practicing medicine on Earth and in the afterlife. Now, maybe, she could get a full seven hours of sleep at night and be alert enough to keep her patients from suffering greater injury upon seeing her. "You should also know that Agent Cox informed me that his investigation into your marking revealed nothing that went against the policies of the A.A.A., and that he wouldn't give me any specific information." Tanner nodded and slid down from the exam table, rolling down the sleeves of his thermal shirt carefully to avoid disturbing the taped cotton ball. "Yeah, he's good at shutting people down," Tanner mumbled with obvious bitterness. Tara put out a hand, catching the young man gently by the forearm and preventing him from leaving with the softest touch of her fingers. She didn't know what was going on between the two agents, who had a volatile relationship to 238

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say the least, but she couldn't let the young man walk away looking so dejected. "He didn't tell me anything because he was protecting you, guarding your privacy. I know he has a lot of faults, too many to count on all your fingers and toes, but he would never let someone hurt you." It was hard for Tara to listen to her vehement words and accept that she was defending Darren, the arrogant bastard, but she had seen him protect Tanner's safety too many times to ignore the evidence. For some reason, whether it was willing or not, Cox had let this young man into his life, and God help anyone who tried to mess with him. "Unless that someone is him," Tanner whispered, eyes still directed at the ground. There was so much heartbreak in that one sentence that this time Tara couldn't resist pulling him into her arms. She had never been involved in a serious relationship on Earth; all her time and passion was consumed first by medical school and then by her practice. But she had had enough girlfriends to recognize the signs of a love affair ending badly. Tanner's face burrowed into her shoulder, his thin arms wrapping around her waist to seek whatever comfort she was offering. There was no awkwardness between them as she cradled his still form and the minutes passed. It seemed so right to take care of this hopeful, exuberant young man who brought so much uplifting energy into the lives of others. Even he needed to be recharged by a source other than himself. The question was, why was she the one to do it, and not the partner he was so obviously in love with? 239

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"It's about time for my lunch break, if you want to grab something from the Agency cafeteria with me. The food isn't very good, but at least that means it'll be a quiet place to talk." Tanner backed out of her arms, a shy smile in place as he agreed to go with her. "I'm not really hungry, but I haven't had my caffeine fix for the day." The infamous cafeteria was as deserted as Tara had predicted. The horror stories of plastic cheese and undercooked meats permeated the A.A.A. Only the desperate few, like herself, who had no time to run back to their assigned living quarters or go offsite for food were subjected to the inedible sludge the cafeteria served up. Tara glanced at the day's menu, written in chalk on a blackboard at the entrance to the dining area. She grimaced when she read that the main course included fish. Good thing she was dead and food poisoning was no longer lifethreatening. Once she had selected a pasta dish with a marinara sauce, a pretty safe choice, and Tanner had finished dumping cream and sugar into his coffee, they sat down at a table for two overlooking the manicured lawns of one of the Agency's courtyards. "Are you going to have any coffee with that sugar?" Tara joked as her dining companion stirred the thickened sludge in his Styrofoam cup. "Nah. It just gets in the way." A comfortable silence settled between them as Tara wolfed down her food. She only had a thirty-minute lunch break, and 240

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her stomach demanded that she not spend it all socializing. Building up an aversion to eating was never something she had cared about putting effort into, and she wouldn't be bothering with it in the future. She had no desire to become a cyborg like Cox. "I don't really know a good way to start a conversation like this without being nosy and possibly rude. If I ask a question you don't want to answer, feel free to tell me to mind my own business." "Dr. O'Connor, I don't have a problem telling people 'no.' That's why I've survived my partner this long." At the mention of the older man, the relaxed sprawl of Tanner's body immediately tensed up, his hands gripping his coffee cup for extra warmth. "Please, call me Tara when we're outside the hospital. Were you and Agent Cox ... involved in a relationship?" It was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that the two men were more emotionally involved than professionals who merely worked together, but whether they had acted on any of those feelings was another matter. "I'm not sure you could call it that. We've been ... intimate a few times, but he always seemed to regret it afterward. Every time it felt like I was getting closer, he would just find some way to keep us apart. I don't give up easily, especially when I really want something, but..." "Go on," Tara encouraged when his words seemed to falter. "It's been two days since the last time I saw him. He's avoiding me, again, and I'm beginning to wonder if I've been 241

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wrong about his feelings all along. I know he finds me attractive, there's definitely a spark, but that's not enough for a relationship to survive on. How could he care about me and not long to see me? Being apart is driving me crazy, but to him it's just another day at the office. I just ... I just can't keep getting my hopes up every time he throws me a scrap of attention. It hurts too much when reality sets in and he shoves me back out the door." The strangled words sliced up Tara's heart as she listened to them spill out. Moisture collected in Tanner's eyes, but he stubbornly wiped it away, refusing to let that last barrier down in a public place. She could see that, more than the rejection, the uncertainty was tearing him apart. If he at least knew what Darren wanted, he could move on and deal with the fallout. The problem was, she didn't think the older agent knew what he wanted, either. "I have limited information about what's going on between you two, so I don't know how much my opinion is worth. Having said that, it might be helpful to get an outsider's view." "I'm open to any advice you have, no matter how crazy it might sound," Tanner admitted, with the first real smile she'd seen since they'd sat down. "I knew Agent Cox before you came here to be his partner. Granted, not very well, since he was closed off to everyone, but even I can tell that his behavior has changed since you became his partner. He does things that are illogical now, things not motivated by that cool reason that always seemed so unshakeable. He goes out of his way to protect you, and 242

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Stephen Carlisle told me he flies into a jealous rage if you spend time with men other than him. I can definitely say that you've woken the beast. Taming him is a whole other matter." Tanner's eyes remained glued to hers as she shared the information she had gathered with her own eyes and from the eyes of others. Everyone passed through her infirmary at least once a year for the required annual checkup, so she received the latest gossip updates from all over the Agency. "Do you think there's any future for us?" Tanner asked with hope he couldn't successfully hide. "That is a hard question to answer. You're obviously good for him, but all the changes Agent Cox will have to make in his life to accommodate another person might be enough to scare him off. What it really comes down to is you. Are you willing to keep fighting to be with him, even when he does crap like this and pushes you away? I'm not telling you to be masochistic. You have to decide where to draw the line. All I'm saying is, I think he could be yours if you have the strength and desire to go as many rounds as it takes to convince him you're not going anywhere. He's a smart guy. When he finally realizes that his feelings aren't the problem, and that you're worth whatever fears being in a relationship provoke in him, he'll stop running." Tanner nodded, absorbing her words like a dry sponge. She was nothing but an amateur when it came to the emotional matters of the heart, but all that experience of weighing relationships and counseling jilted friends had to 243

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come in handy sometime. Always the heart mender and never the one with the boyfriend. That was her life story. "I've never felt this way about anyone. Since the first day we met, I could feel a connection between us, more than the physical attraction. I know it sounds corny, but there's so much about him that I admire. There are things I could do without, but I wouldn't change him and risk losing the parts that I ... I love." Tara wasn't surprised to hear him say he was in love. No one put himself through the painful game of chase, as Tanner was doing, without some pretty heavy emotions involved. "Do you know what you're going to do?" Tara asked, glancing at her watch to see if it was time to start heading back. "The only thing I can do. Keep trying. Even if he keeps pushing me away. Being without him hurts so much more." Tara offered him a sympathetic hug before gathering up her garbage and heading back. She certainly didn't envy Tanner the rough road ahead, but if he succeeded, he would gain something that all people searched for, whether dead or alive. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Fourteen Darren gritted his teeth and tried to remember why inflicting pain on innocent bystanders was a bad idea. Slightly easier to recall was the fact that ripping out his hair would not hurt, but it would make him somewhat less attractive. What was it about unpredictable and therefore stressful situations that caused people to forget how to follow directions? He was currently standing in the bullpen of the Retrievers Division of the Agency for Afterlife Activity, surrounded by the other five agents who were members, and trying to clear everyone's tasks with them one last time before they transferred into position for their mission. Each agent would be stationed at a different position around the perimeter of Our Lady of Hope Catholic Church, where Alicia Brody would enter to pray. They had spoken with the priest in charge, in the guise of law enforcement, to arrange for the church to be empty, except for one of their people who would be posing as the priest to avoid suspicion. The plan was to draw Alex Creaton into the open by providing him an opportunity to strike at the unarmed lady, his desire to kill again had to be overpowering by now. He was being driven to complete the pattern of killing he began months ago. One more death would finish the business that was tying him to this location and free him up to go to hell, from where he could travel to anywhere on Earth. This was their last chance to stop him before he slipped off their radar. 245

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It wasn't just about protecting the girl. It was about protecting the rest of humanity as well. And keeping his people safe, if only they could focus for five seconds. "Okay, we are going to sound off with our assignments one more time. Let's get it right so we can keep with our timeframe," Darren ordered in his most authoritative tone, the one that killed protests instantly. "We'll start with you, Agent Mihato." "I'll be positioned at the rear entrance to the church, guarding it and watching for any sign of activity from our target." "Good. Agent Daley." The bubbly blonde got a deer-in-the-headlights look when she realized it was her turn. No doubt the woman was useful when it came to assignments involving young, hot-blooded men who needed persuasion, but outside of that he found her irritatingly useless. The fact that she flirted with him and everything else that moved didn't help. "I'll be, um, covering the right side entrance." "Correct. Agent Hollinger." "I will be posing as the priest on duty at the church. When Miss Brody enters, I will offer her absolution and then leave her in the sanctuary to pray by herself. I will proceed to the office located behind the vestry." Agent Bennet Hollinger of Unit Borreal, Chandra Daley's partner, had been chosen for the part of the priest, since Darren had already been seen by the target and Carlisle couldn't keep a straight face if his life depended on it. The 246

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man looked rather young to be the priest of a church the size of Our Lady of Hope, having died at twenty-six, but no doubt the stress of his role would add a few needed lines to his usually calm expression. "Perfect. Agent Carlisle." Stephen couldn't prevent the guilty smile that broke out when his name was called and he was drawn away from the quiet, intimate conversation he was having with Agent Daley. Darren barely resisted the urge to launch his pen at the man's forehead, knowing he could hit the idiot directly between the eyes. "I get to watch the only other entrance to the church, the most important one, the front entrance, and monitor the area for any sign of our psycho ghost." "Close enough. Agent Simms." He wasn't aware of consciously leaving Tanner until the end, even though he'd eluded every attempt the younger man had made to speak with him before the briefing. The kid's presence was too distracting, and he needed to keep his mind focused on the details of their case to make sure everyone came back in one piece. He certainly didn't need to be drawn to that soft, sweet-smelling hair, or desire to touch that golden skin and draw his fingers under the cotton sweater to feel the body heat trapped inside. The need to experience Tanner with every sense was nearly overpowering. He had denied himself contact for three days now, and the withdrawal was wearing him down. His tongue was dry and craved to dip between those plump lips, to suck the small tongue inside until it followed him back into 247

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his own mouth. He felt his pants beginning to tighten as the erotic images poured unchecked into his mind. He saw Tanner, sprawled naked over his desk and begging to be claimed, riding his cock and slamming down on him until he lost control. He saw Tanner sucking him off with those innocent lips. Darren nearly groaned, biting his lip to prevent the noise from escaping. The brat was destroying his focus and they hadn't even spoken yet. He forcefully pried his mind from its fantasies and met the tranquil blue eyes of the young man directly across from him. "I'm to stay in the parishioner's side of the confessional, and not move under any circumstances, except to transfer out if anything goes wrong." Tanner repeated the words like a robot, impressing the point that they had been drilled into him. Carlisle laughed at the antics, and then covered the sound with a cough. Chandra, the airhead, patted him on the back as he "choked." "I will be stationed in the priest's side of the confessional, performing an incantation that will block our presence from the target. The moment he approaches Alicia Brody, I will stop chanting and our locations will be revealed to the killer. No one is to move from their vigil unless you see the perpetrator or Miss Brody exit the building through your door. I will make contact with the demon, bind him, and send him straight to hell. Any questions?" Darren asked. The agents shook their heads, anxious to get this mission started and over with. Darren dismissed them and waited 248

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until each had transferred out of the room before preparing to follow. Tanner was the last one to leave, and Darren wanted to kick himself for not seeing that coming. The kid knew his habits too well. "I finally caught you," the brat began in a wavering voice. He finally looked nervous, whether due to the mission or talking to his former lover, Darren didn't know. "We need to catch up with the others. Do you need to tell me something about the mission?" He purposely limited their exchange to the subject of their job, and desperately hoped Tanner didn't realize how hard he was fighting to keep from pulling the brat into his arms and plunging his tongue into that warm entrance until they were both breathless. Fuck. Where was his legendary control? Tanner opened his mouth, then shook his head and closed it. He must have heard Darren's silent plea, because he took a step back, putting more distance between them. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful. I, uh, I'll be waiting for you to come out of this safely. You can always count on me to be waiting for you." The words were soft, especially near the end, and Darren knew they were discussing more than a victorious mission. Tanner was staking his claim, making it clear that he had no intention of bowing out of their quasi-relationship gracefully. Great. That was just what his existence needed. A determined suitor. For some reason, that picture made him smile, even in the midst of preparing to face down an insane, demonic killer. 249

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Tanner was clearly not ready for the genuine grin flashed in his direction, or to be pulled up against a broad, muscled chest while his mouth was devoured. Darren decided to give in to his body's demands for what could be the last time, and let down all the barriers that were in place to prevent explosions from all his desires that went unfulfilled. There was nothing gentle or coaxing about this kiss. His lips slanted roughly over the softer ones below, taking the contact deeper and forcing his partner to accept his tongue. Tanner opened willingly, eager for the claiming, every part of their bodies melding together. When he felt an equally hard erection rubbing against his own, reality intruded and Darren pulled back from the embrace, pushing the young man back out of reach. Tanner's lips were swollen, his chin red from Darren's stubble rubbing his sensitive skin. Darren was grateful for the dim lighting of the church interior, knowing the details of their disheveled appearances would be hard to make out, even for Hollinger, who was posing as the priest. "Good way to say goodbye," Tanner got out between labored breaths. "I've always had a way with goodbye," Darren responded, the underlying gravity of his words reflected in the young man's unflinching eyes. "I guess we do complement each other. I haven't figured out how to let you go." Tanner vanished without another word, his heartfelt confession ringing in the now-silent room. Darren closed his eyes and put everything out of his mind, focusing on the task 250

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before him. He couldn't afford to be distracted by a beautiful pair of blue eyes now. He pictured his hiding spot in the church and transferred there, just in time to see Alicia Brody walk through the ornate front doors. He began chanting in the ancient prayer language, his senses divided between covering their presence and searching for the location of their enemy. Hollinger came out and greeted Miss Brody as planned, blessing her. Soon he spoke his parting words and retreated to the offices behind the altar where she knelt to pray. The altar looked the same as the last time he'd faced Creaton here, the candles lit once more, the statue of Jesus suspended in his last moments of life on Earth. He could hear Tanner's soft breathing on the other side of the confessional window, and remembered seeing the young man before him, bathed in that soft glowing candlelight. Everything seemed imbued with Tanner, no memory safe from the young man's influence. Darren forced his thoughts back to his incantation, his words faltering from inattention. It was necessary to keep a steady cadence when performing this rite. Speeding up or slowing down the rhythm would alert their nemesis to the presence of the spell, defeating its purpose. Above his whispered words he could hear the sound of the wooden door sliding open from Tanner's side of the confessional to reveal the dark screen that allowed only vague outlines to be visible. Without having to turn his head to look, Darren saw a shadowed shape rest up against the screen on the opposite side and knew instinctively what it 251

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was. He lifted his own hand up to rest on top of the smaller one, feeling the warmth of it through the thin barrier as they pressed together. Darren's eyes remained on Alicia's silhouette through the thin crack of the slightly ajar door to his booth. He could only see her profile from the side, and the dim lighting made reading her expression difficult, but from what he could make out she appeared somber. The flickering flames of the candles highlighted the grim lines carved around her mouth and into her forehead. The trembling in the hands she clasped tightly on her lap betrayed the fear she felt as she waited out in the open for her predator to make his move. It was a good thing she kneeled before the altar. Otherwise her unsteady legs probably would have collapsed under the force of her obviously shaky emotions. It was while he was gazing at Alicia that he noticed the way the candle flames began to blow more erratically, some of them going dark from the force of the draft whipping through the church ceiling and down the sanctuary aisles. Darren felt Tanner's palm press more tightly against his, and knew his partner had realized their target had arrived. He reached out with his senses, careful not to pull too much attention from the words of protection he still chanted. It was not yet time to reveal their presence. He detected demonic energy swirling around the highest steeple of the church, gathering and descending toward the front entrance. Darren suppressed a shiver, the killer's madness and desire for blood spiking his energy and turning 252

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it into a thick, foul substance that coated the air like oil over fresh water. Alicia glanced around her with obvious worry as the wind began to throw her hair around and slide its chilling embrace under her clothing. The desire to bolt was written on her face, but instead she tightened the grip of her hands and hunched further, obviously praying in earnest now. The heavy wooden doors slammed open at the front of the church, the intricate carvings hitting roughly against the walls inside. Leaves and other light debris blew in through the opening and scattered across the pews while black lightning crackled around the doorway. Alex Creaton was not taking any chances on missing his quarry again. His intent was obviously to kill her as quickly as possible and gain his freedom from this place. Darren waited as the madman coalesced into his human form and walked through the church's doorway. Time had not been kind to him since their last meeting. His skin was waxier and his hair hung limply around his balding head, not combed neatly to hide his scalp. The dark blue veins that lined his body showed through clearly beneath his paper-thin skin, giving him a mottled and sickly appearance. Those dark eyes, though ... they held the same flat, dead expression. Whatever part of Alex Creaton's soul had been left after their last encounter had been demolished by the demon he allowed to possess him and give him power. None of his humanity remained intact. Alicia bolted to her feet when she realized someone was in the church with her, moving in her direction. The wind blew 253

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her long hair around her face, obscuring her view of the man who approached her as she backed up the stairs, stumbling and then finally crawling to escape her attacker. Creaton continued to advance on the girl, his zombie steps steady as he approached without sensing any interference. Alicia ducked behind the stone altar, sucking in sobbing breaths and hyperventilating. She didn't seem able to get enough air in her lungs to scream if she wanted to. Darren could feel the tension in his partner through the fingers that dug into the screen that separated them, the young man vibrating with the need to take action. He rubbed his palm gently against the barrier, reminding Tanner of the plan and to stay where he was. Soon their target would be in position ... just a few more steps. The stench of rotting flesh assaulted Darren's nose, inarguable proof that Creaton had been overtaken by the demonic presence he'd allowed in. A few feet away, Alicia gagged and covered her nose, cleary fighting the reflex that made her stomach heave at the offensive smell. Dark power slithered along Creaton's thinned skin, sparking at random intervals like a shorting circuit. It left his clothing untouched, but burned a pathway through the carpeting as it followed his footsteps. "You don't need to be afraid, my dear. We are meant to be together." Creaton's words slithered from his white lips, dripping with insanity. Alicia covered her head with her arms and burrowed further into her exposed hiding place. "I will rescue you from the pain of living." 254

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Darren nearly shuddered, disgusted by how this killer's words were mirroring his own thoughts on too many occasions. "You can come to me and make this quick ... or I will find you and make you suffer." Creaton was clearly running out of patience, his weak voice turning menacing as he approached the bottom of the stairs that led up to the altar. The demonic lightning seemed to dance behind his bottomless eyes, offering a glimpse of the madness that now ruled his mind. "I guess by your silence that you want me to come to you. How ... unfortunate." The last word was spoken in another voice, a dark, grating one that would tear apart the vocal chords of a normal person. The guise of Creaton had been dropped, the demon's personality coming to the fore. If the demon was revealing its true self, it was preparing to strike the killing blow. Darren stopped his chanting and gave his partner's hand one last caress against the screen before slipping out the door to the confessional, placing himself in Creaton's peripheral vision. The demon stiffened, sniffing the air before growling and turning in Darren's direction. "Not you again!" it screamed in that same twisted voice. "This time it's just you and I. No little boys for you to pick on," Darren replied confidently. He would send this psycho to hell this time or die trying. There was no more room for screw-ups. An evil smirk twisted the pale, ghastly lips as the demon reached out with its heightened senses, scanning the grounds 255

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of the church. "He's here. Along with several other weaklings. Getting to kill them and devour their souls will make up for all the trouble you've caused me." The demon laughed, the harsh sound scraping along Darren's nerve endings. He remained still, refusing to show any reaction to the killer's words. There was no way it was going to get through him and hurt his people, or his partner. Never again. While the demon's attention was still focused on the Retriever, Alicia bolted from behind the altar and ran into the arms of Hollinger, who was waiting just out of view in the doorway that led off to the clerical offices. Once she stumbled safely into his arms and collapsed, he transferred them both out of the church and away from danger as planned. The demon howled in fury, the anger of being thwarted again causing it to lash out. Lightning exploded from its hands, incinerating the carpet and pew closest to Darren, who transferred just in time to avoid being caught in the paralyzing streaks. By now his entire team should be a safe distance away. Agent Hollinger performing a transfer with Alicia in tow would release a pulse of energy strong enough to broadcast the action to the other agents within proximity. That was the signal for his team to transfer and regroup at the Agency, making sure everyone was accounted for. Tanner was near enough to the heart of the mission and the words being exchanged between Darren and the demon for that energy signal to be deemed unnecessary. He was to transfer out of the church with the others in order to be there for Alicia when 256

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she felt safe enough to have a complete breakdown. Dr. O'Connor would be awaiting their return at the Agency, to check over the agents for injuries and to be a calming female presence for Alicia. Tanner's proximity to the scene unfolding mere feet from his hiding place thwarted any attempt he might make at claiming ignorance in connection with failing to transfer out of the church at the correct time. Which didn't mean he wouldn't try to use that as an excuse to be insubordinate. It just meant that Darren and the Chief were even less likely to believe his protestations of innocence. "You've lost Creaton. There's no reason to fight anymore. I can send you to hell and give you the escape from this prison that you've been wanting," Darren shouted over the sounds of the wind beating against the church walls and the sizzling of the dark lightning accumulating in the madman's body. "You'll send me to hell forever, and I still have too much to do up here." A dark ball of power began to build between the bony, haggard fingers of the creature that stared at Darren with malicious intent. "And I haven't lost yet. Kill me if you can," the demon taunted, waiting for him to make a slip that would be fatal. Darren began to chant the binding incantation, his strong voice rising above the noise as the ancient words stilled the demonic hands that readied dark energy to toss at him. The demon shrieked in outrage, futilely attempting to free its arms and extract revenge. Darren held his hands away from his body, palms facing out toward the creature held frozen by the old powers. 257

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"By the power of the Creator, whose wards stand against you, be still. The Earth binds your feet, the Air binds your arms. Water binds your will, Fire binds your power. Below them you are cast, never to return." The demon's possessed body began to shake as it fought the natural forces compelling it back to hell. Darren continued to chant and focus his energy into the words, sensing a stronger opposition than usual to the binding. When a bolt of dark energy broke from the demon and crossed his barriers, he wasn't ready to respond and put up a defense. All of his energy was being channeled into the binding. The corrupting energy shot straight through his left leg, searing a hole through the limb and sending him to the floor. Darren hit the ground hard, refusing to move his hands to break the fall. He continued to chant through the agony and the smell of burning flesh. He could not afford to fail. If he didn't stop this demon, Reed would send Tanner in next to finish the job, and that was a risk that stopped his heart. Darren chanted louder as his mind attempted to figure out how the demon could get around the binding spell and hit him with a bullet of dark energy. He clenched his teeth against the slicing pain in his leg and the blood soaking through his black pants, plastering them to his thigh. The creature shouldn't be able to attack unless his concentration wasn't complete, which hadn't been the case before he was injured. Now that he could feel his life energy oozing out the hole in his leg, his attention was splintered, meaning the more bolts hit him, the more bolts could. 258

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Giving up was still not an option. If he was going out, then he would do it fighting. An image of his partner flashed into his mind, those bright eyes and sunny smile mocking him with the promise of a home he would never have, had never even known he wanted. The demon laughed, a deeper sound than before, as it continued to struggle against the power restricting it. Another bolt of black energy escaped its hands, this time catching Darren in the right shoulder. He screamed from the searing pain that exploded down his arm to his hand. Nothing but the force of his will kept him from lowering his injured arm and breaking the binding spell. Darren bit into his lip, drawing blood and grounding himself, and panted through the ancient words. His concentration was weakening, the energy it took just to remain steady sapping his remaining strength. He could feel his mind begin to weave in and out of consciousness, and knew it wasn't long before he would pass out. There was no way he would have enough energy or focus left to finish the banishment incantation, even if he did make it through the binding, and yet he still couldn't give up. Must protect Tanner, his mind replayed over and over again in the background of his thoughts. If he couldn't live for the kid, he sure as hell would die for him. Then Darren saw something that made him wonder if he'd somehow been hit on the head. Creaton's skin began to melt away, the dark power of the demon and the power binding it fusing to destroy the delicate human body that housed the evil he was fighting. Pieces of hair and clothing pooled to the 259

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floor along with the oozing membrane to form a noxious puddle. But that wasn't what had Darren questioning the state of his mind. It was the double vision. He watched as the human barrier was stripped away and could almost swear he saw two demons before him. Demons were extremely territorial, hence the use of possessive tattoos. So it was highly unlikely that two would share the same host. There had to be some greater gain from joining forces, and even then any kind of partnership formed between the hell dwellers usually disintegrated. Darren shut his eyes tightly, but when he opened them he still saw two blistered, oozing demons. One was writhing in place, held there by the binding spell that, miraculously, Darren continued to chant. The other stepped away from the melted mess of its former host, its mangled hands gathering dark energy to finish off their opposition. Oh fuck, Darren cursed as his injured body shook with fatigue. At least he now knew how those dark energy bolts got around his spell. "It looks like you lose," the free demon hissed as it released a deadly bolt of energy straight toward him. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Fifteen Tanner had actually obeyed orders. It damn near killed him to leave Darren behind and transfer back to the Agency, but he did have a duty to perform. Alicia was a mess, the reality of the danger she'd been in causing her to go into shock. He stayed with her, murmuring nonsense words of comfort, until Dr. O'Connor finished her cursory exam of the agents and tended to the shaking woman he was all too ready to hand off. He needed to get back to that church as quickly as possible and give his partner some back up. Besides, no one could expect this obedient streak to last too long. Tanner gave the other agents some excuse about needing to go lie down, which they readily bought, aware of his demon attack weeks before. He headed for the hallway, where he could transfer without suspicion. It made him so angry that no one seemed concerned that Darren hadn't yet returned to the Agency. No one fought to go after the Retriever, which seemed blatantly wrong. Darren could be an arrogant bastard who demanded a hundred percent compliance with his authority, but he would never leave a man behind. Tanner was almost out the door to freedom when the sound of his name stopped him. If it had been anyone else, he would have kept going, but even he wasn't reckless enough to piss off his boss. Again. 261

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"What's up, Chief?" he asked, in what he hoped was a neutral voice, as he walked back to the doorway of his supervisor's office. Reed lounged against the frame, his arms crossed in front of his massive chest, his face unreadable. The rest of the agents remained gathered around their desks, discussing the mission, while Dr. O'Connor led Alicia away to the infirmary. Tanner was thankful that no one was close enough to hear their exchange, in case he was going to be dressed down. He couldn't remember violating any Agency policies lately, but that didn't mean anything. "Where are you headed off to?" Reed asked in a voice that gave nothing away. "I was going to go back to my rooms. Lie down a bit. The excitement has really worn me out." Reed's eyes narrowed, assessing the truth of his words. Tanner fought the urge to fidget and appear guilty, but it was even harder to put one over the Chief than Darren. The man had a sixth sense or something. "Do you know the kind of reprimand an agent gets for lying to a supervisor?" Tanner swallowed at the intimidating words and shook his head "no." "You don't want to know. Now, tell me the truth, where are you going?" The stare from those dark eyes forced the truth out of him more effectively than a gun. "I need to go check on Darren, uh, Agent Cox. He hasn't come back yet, and he might need help." 262

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"And you were going to sneak off to assist him without telling anyone? What if something happened to both of you? There would be no one to give you back up if something went wrong." "I know I'm not supposed to be an active part of this assignment, sir, but he's my partner. I can't rest until I know he's safe." Tanner pleaded with his eyes and words to be given the chance that he would be taking no matter what. Even if Reed ordered him to stay or forfeit his job, he had to go. Darren was the man he loved, the person who mattered above all others. Whatever fate the older Retriever was facing would be his fate as well. "I'm going to give you permission to go after Agent Cox, because I'm worried about him as well. If you both aren't back in fifteen minutes, I'm sending the other two teams back after you. Is that understood?" "Yes, sir." Tanner nodded his head, weak with relief that the Chief wasn't going to stand in his way. He had to help Darren and get them back safely in order to make sure his friends stayed safe. None of them were ready to face a monster like what used to be Alex Creaton. "One more thing, Simms. The next time you get an idea to go off on your own without telling anyone where you are headed, remember the pissed-off look I have on my face right now and don't." "I understand, sir. Am I dismissed?" "Yeah, get out of here." 263

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Tanner transferred out of the office immediately, not bothering with subterfuge anymore. He had to get to Darren before it was too late. He reappeared in the confessional box once more, close to the fight, but not in open view of the demon. He peered through the sliver of open door, choking down the yell of fear that welled up at what he saw. Darren was on his knees, wavering like he was about to fall over, blood splattering the light carpeting around him. The clothes the older man wore were too dark for Tanner to see where he'd been hit, but the wound must be deep to bring the strong man to the floor. Tanner blinked in confusion as he looked back over the heart-stopping scene, his eyes captured by what looked like ... two demons. How could that be? Demons didn't share power, ever. Unless... The pieces suddenly fell into place. Alex had not just channeled any demonic spirits with his bloody rituals. He'd called on the demons that had infested the bodies of past serial killers, which explained the discrepancies in the serial killer profile of their target. Creaton's murders were both pagan and religious, the victims being killed as a ritualistic sacrifice on an altar in a church, while their blood was spilled like an Aztec human offering. The man had found the perfect way to confuse any Earthly authorities who might pursue him, like the profilers of the FBI, by having two different fiendish killers orchestrating his victims and his method. To anyone who didn't have intimate knowledge of the crimes being committed, it would appear two different 264

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suspects were involved, with two different modes of operation. None of this knowledge gave Tanner any idea about how to help his partner. It seemed that somehow Darren was managing to keep one of the demons bound with his incantation, but that wouldn't last for long. Most of the man's blood looked to be soaked into the carpet, in a pool deep enough to saturate and overflow, and his powers had to be weakening. Tanner could see those strong hands trembling from where he was concealed. Tanner's adrenaline pumped painfully in his veins, the fierce pounding causing his fingers on both hands to go numb. His conscience screamed at him to do something before his lover was brought down right before his eyes, while the rational part of his mind knew that he needed a plan before he rushed in, or they would both be lost. Then the unbound demon raised his slimy, malformed hands to release another bolt of dark lightning, and Tanner knew he was out of time. If Darren was going to die, Tanner's heart left him no choice but to follow. He was not about to surrender the only good thing he had ever had so easily. Tanner burst from his hiding spot, shocking the demon and stalling its attack. Darren didn't even turn his head to see what caused the commotion, either because he was too weak to move or because he couldn't afford to break his concentration for even a second. Tanner figured it was probably for both reasons. "You!" The unbound demon hissed with contempt. 265

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"No one messes with my partner!" Tanner screamed in fury as he advanced on the hell spawn, placing his body between the creature and his fallen partner. "Don't think I'll crumble as easily as the weak sycophants you've destroyed before, Demon Slayer. My power rivals that of the Dark Lord himself." The words were spoken with the arrogance common among the born demon race, but Tanner wasn't fooled. If the demon had been that certain of his abilities, he wouldn't have tried to hide the tattoo carved on the inside of his bottom lip, the one that would associate him with a family and tell Tanner the name to use in a chant of destruction. "Get out of here. That's an order," Darren panted with the last of his strength. Tanner's heart constricted with the knowledge that the man cared, even while he suppressed a grin at the man's gall. Bleeding profusely and on his knees, he still felt he could order others around. The older Retriever struggled to gain his hold on the demon once more. His break in concentration to address Tanner had cost him. His prisoner flailed and hissed in an attempt to break the invisible bonds, but ultimately remained trapped. "You know how well I listen to those. We leave here together or not at all." The demon laughed sinisterly, readying for another attack. Energy crackled around it and sparks shot from its waxy skin as its power converged. "Let me help you make that decision." It cackled as a bolt sizzled from its hands. 266

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Tanner ducked and rolled to the side, feeling the heat from the blast but no pain. He remembered very clearly what it felt like to be caught in that scorching, nerve-blistering power, and had no intention of repeating the experience. A glance at Darren told him his partner couldn't spare any more help, that keeping the one demon bound was costing him too much already. Tanner needed to find out the demon's name quickly and damn him soon, before Darren's hold broke and Tanner had more to deal with than he could handle. He needed to use the creature's weaknesses against it. He knew that demons were proud to a fault, and if he could use that to get the beast talking, he might have a chance to see what its lineage was. "I know why you are working with another demon," Tanner shouted as he slowly stood to his feet, drawing the monster's gaze to him once more. "How could a stupid dead human like you possibly know the plans of a powerful being like me?" His plan seemed to be working. Instead of killing him, the demon was poised to listen, its decrepit head tilted as it waited to prove him wrong. Darren remained focused on his chanting, his eyes closed and body swaying. Tanner wondered why he hadn't already performed the banishment incantation, but it appeared Darren was giving his partner room to work while not rocking the boat just yet. "You teamed up with another demon so you could confuse the police. Combining your killing rituals into something new 267

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must have been hard, but you cared more about survival than staying true to your craft." "You know nothing! What we did made the killings better! And those stupid policemen had no idea what kind of suspect they were after. They all ran around like the dimwitted weaker beings they are." The demon's words were becoming more agitated as he became more incensed. Tanner only needed him to lose a little more control and open his mouth a little wider to get the information he desperately needed. "You weren't good enough to fool us, though. We lured you here using Alicia Brody as bait, and you fell for it. How does it make you feel to know that you'll be killed by the same 'boy' who escaped your people and brought humiliation down on your race? Who is the stronger being now?" "Die!" the demon screeched as Tanner's intentionally goading words cut right to the heart of its pride. That one cry filled with bloodlust was all Tanner needed to make out the combination of dots and slashes that marked this demon as a member of the Pestilence Clan, proper name Rancor. He immediately began the incantation of destruction that would cast the demon into oblivion, away from his people, for all eternity. The Catholic prayer that Jinny had taught him sprang to mind, and he decided to use it in memory and honor of her. It was time to put his past behind him for good and prepare for the future. He hoped it would be a future filled with the man who was barely holding on to life at his feet. Anyone else would have given up by now and slumped into unconsciousness, leaving 268

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Tanner to battle two demons by himself, but Darren was too stubborn to give in to something like bleeding to death. "In the Name of the All Father, strengthened by the intercession of Blessed Michael the Archangel, of the Blessed Apostles and all the Saints, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil. From the snares of the devil, deliver us. That Thy servants may follow Thee in peace and liberty, we beseech Thee to hear us. That Thou may crush down all enemies of Light, we beseech Thee to hear us." The demon let loose a piercing cry of fear as it realized the mistake it had made. It scrambled to attack Tanner and stop his words before its name was spoken. There was nothing he could do to stop the bolt that was arcing from the demon's hands, aimed directly at his heart. He could only hope to survive it long enough to finish the prayer he was struggling to recite correctly. The blast of a gun being fired rang in his ears and caused him to flinch, reality only catching up with him once he realized he was in no pain. The demon's attack had never reached him. How was that possible? The demon was shrieking again, and clasping its arm where the gaping hole in its oozing flesh was already closing over. Tanner glanced down at his partner and saw the pistol hanging limply from the hand that was dead weight on the floor. He had no idea where the gun had come from. His partner must have had it concealed in the waistband of his pants under his suit jacket. But Darren never carried a gun, 269

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never needed to. It must have been left over from his days as a paid killer. Whatever the reason the man had brought it, Tanner was grateful. "Finish it," Darren instructed weakly, his one stillfunctioning hand aimed at the bound demon. "Send to the darkness Rancor, of the house of Pestilence. Cast him from the presence of all, to where Your light never shines. Bind him there in the darkness, never to return. May the words of your servant be seen true, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen." The demon screamed in agony, clutching its sore-covered scalp as it disappeared, unable to fight the power cast by the light. As soon as it was gone, Darren's litany changed to a chant that would damn the creature he had been holding in thrall, the words so soft that Tanner couldn't make any out distinctly. That creature vanished as well, nothing left to mark its passing except the blood that continued to ooze out of his partner. Without speaking the creature's name in the spell, it was possible for it to tell its tale to another demon, and perpetuate the cycle, but Tanner couldn't care less about that at the moment. He needed to get Darren to Dr. O'Connor before it was too late. He knelt on the floor by his partner, unconcerned about the stains left by the sanguine fluid that already soaked through his clothing in several spots. It was one thing to see the blood seeping from his partner, and another to feel it 270

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coating his skin. How could someone lose this much blood and survive? Tanner placed an arm under each of Darren's, clasping them tightly across the man's torso, Darren's head leaning on the crook of his arm. Luckily, he didn't need to lift the larger man to transport them, merely ensure they were touching securely. "You did it." Darren's whispered words surprised him. He thought the man was unconscious. God knew he should have been. "Don't speak. Save your strength." Tanner tried to keep the trembling fear out of his voice, but it was much harder to keep the hands that were holding his lover from shaking. He had fought for this man every step of the way. It wasn't fair that he should lose Darren now. "Need to say ... may not get another chance." "I'm going to take you to Dr. O'Connor. She'll fix you up and have you bossing people around in no time." The joke sounded weak to his ears, and his mind screamed at him to transfer them, but a small whisper of truth was telling him this might be their last chance to be alone together. He needed to hear the soft words his partner was trying so hard to convey. "You couldn't ... let it go. I tried to ... keep us both safe ... but you wouldn't let me." Tanner shook his head at the slightly slurred words, unsure how to respond. His arms tightened around his partner, startled to find his skin cool even through a layer of clothing. 271

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"We need to go," Tanner nearly begged. "Wait," Darren rasped. "When I thought it would ... kill you, I felt pain ... worse than anything I've known." Tears burned in Tanner's aching eyes and spilled onto his cheeks, the only warmth in the cavernous, chilly church sanctuary. Darren continued to suck in ragged breaths, each sounding more forced and painful than the last. "Whatever happens, I ... want you to know I ... love you." Tanner gasped and shuddered with the force of the tears that wracked his body. He had waited so long to hear those words. If only it hadn't taken a death experience to drag them from Darren. "I love you, too," Tanner whispered into the fading light in his lover's eyes. He was rewarded by the smallest, sweetest smile ever to curve his partner's lips. "I'm still a bastard ... but I want to be your bastard." Tanner did laugh at that, the sound bringing back that slight smile one last time before Darren's eyes closed and the light of love kindled there was extinguished. When his partner slumped against him, Tanner immediately transferred them into the Agency's infirmary. By that time he was crying so hard he couldn't call for a nurse to assist him. Luckily, the attendant at the arrival's desk saw them appear and ran for help. Not long after, nurses tried to pry Darren from his protective embrace, each assuring him they would take good care of his partner. When Dr. O'Connor appeared at the melee, she took one look at Tanner's broken visage, as he stood out of the way 272

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hugging himself while Darren was loaded onto a gurney, and came over to offer a supportive hug. "I'll do everything in my power to see him well," she whispered into his ear as her arms tightened briefly before releasing him. "I know," Tanner responded, the tears slowing, to be replaced by a cold, encroaching numbness. He stood there in the waiting room, long after Darren had been pushed away to the emergency room. All around him, the sound of busy footsteps echoed up and down the sterile hallways, people with places to go and things to do. His only purpose was slowly bleeding its life out in an impersonal room several walls away from where he felt rooted in place. Finally, he slumped into an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, all his energy spent from fighting the demon, and sobbed his heart out over losing the man he loved. That was where Dr. O'Connor found him hours later when she came to deliver the news of Darren's condition personally. The tears her soft words unleashed were unexpected and unstoppable. Tanner had thought his body wrung out, unable to process any more strong emotion, but even in this he was unpredictable. Dr. O'Connor held him as the tears ran their course, and even long after, as he tried to convince his heart it was okay to keep beating. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Epilogue I don't really want to kill him. Killing is a part of my past. If I kill him, I'll have tons of paperwork to fill out, which will take even longer. The unconvincing words plowed through Darren's head like a freight train as he fought the urge to throw his former partner over his shoulder and forcefully carry him off to the vacation he'd been coerced into taking. Time off was not his thing, especially when it involved sandy beaches and balmy climates. If he was spending time away from work, he wanted the climate to match his mood, in other words, Seattle sounded perfect. Nearly two weeks had passed since the assignment that had landed him in a private medical room, blinking in and out of consciousness. When he finally regained full consciousness, eight hours after the surgery that repaired the internal and external damage caused by the dark lightning, he thought his hand had been amputated because he couldn't feel his fingers. When his surroundings finally registered, he realized the problem was that his partner had a death grip on his hand, one that Tanner had somehow managed to maintain after falling asleep, slumped in an uncomfortable upholstered chair by his partner's bedside. Former partner, Darren corrected. When he'd finally been released, too early for Dr. O'Connor's peace of mind, but way too late for his own, he returned to Reed's office for a followup meeting to discuss officially making Mihato his new 274

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partner. As predicted, his feelings on the switch had not changed. Tanner was still better suited to working with that idiot Carlisle, and Mihato was much less distracting for him in the field. And if the Chief hinted around that he knew Darren's reasons for requesting the swap had changed, he could grit his teeth and suffer through that knowing smile and the unsubtle jokes to ensure his professional reputation didn't come into question. It was a lot harder putting up with the changed attitudes of his coworkers. Tanner wasn't exactly the private person Darren was, and wasted no time sharing the news that they were an item. Nor did the brat waste any time attempting to cuddle and kiss him in public. Even though his attempts were constantly rebuffed, that still did not prevent Tanner from jumping him every time his back was turned. So, obviously, the cat was out of the bag, thanks to his clingy stalker. And if he liked the attention, so what? It certainly didn't mean the kid had to know that. It was only natural to desire feeling wanted, after all. A man could only spend so much time alone before needing some kind of constant companionship. It still didn't give his fellow Retrievers the right to treat him as if he were somehow different ... softer and nicer, in some way. Mihato actually smiled at him when they were having conversations about one case or another. Apparently her mother bear protective instincts were satisfied that he wasn't going to hurt her adopted cub now. Dr. O'Connor went out of her way to be civil. There would never be an easy camaraderie between them. They enjoyed teasing each other 275

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way too much. But the woman kept her insults above the belt now, and actually backed off once in awhile. Even Carlisle came over to attempt starting a conversation, which Darren shut down quickly with an icy glare and clipped response. He just wanted to scream at all of them that he had no newfound love for people or joy in living that made him more tolerant of their annoyingness. He loved Tanner. He wanted to be with Tanner, to hold him when he was sad, to not be the cause of that sadness, to explore every skin cell on that perfect body. He did NOT intend to share the brat with any of them, or transfer any of these warm, fuzzy feelings to the kid's friends. But then he would see those big, endlessly blue, imploring eyes gazing at him in a perfect imitation of a puppy dog, and the desire to kill and maim all the idiots who thought he was "safe" faded. He found himself resisting the urge to tell Mihato where she could shove her approval. He discovered he could even be civil to Dr. O'Connor, and that was better for his health in general to be sure. And Carlisle ... well, he never would be a perfect life mate, and the kid would have to realize that from the start. Stomaching that womanizer was simply asking too much. Especially after all the concessions the brat had already weaseled out of him. The day he was released for outpatient care was filled with mountains of unnecessary junk being brought through the revolving door of his apartment, a blond scruffy head sticking up from behind the moving piles. It was amazing how much stuff the young man had accumulated in his much shorter afterlife, each item having a story and 276

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sentimental connection that forbade it from being thrown in the trash. Tanner had insisted on sharing each poignant memory with him before finding a spot for the item in his quickly cluttered space. Darren had gritted his teeth throughout the time-consuming process, and reminded himself not to aggravate his healing injuries by tossing some of the useless crap building up around him like anthills out the door. And now the kid had somehow gained his assent for a weeklong vacation to whatever warm-climate tourist trap had popped into his fluffy skull. Seven days with nothing to preoccupy him except a tanned, willing body, attached to the sweetest, cleverest mouth that had ever teased him. Darren shifted his legs and tried to avoid the need to resettle himself in public view of his supervisor, and all the other members of the Retrievers Division who were gathered to offer their salutations. None of them had the guts to tease him to his face about such an obvious discomfort, but he could do without the snickers when he passed by. Maybe this vacation wouldn't be the mistake he'd it pegged for after all. He would have uninterrupted time with the brat. Time where he could find better uses for that clever mouth besides talking. If he had to hear one more account of the worried vigil spent by his bedside, of the hours of handholding and one-sided poker, he was going to bash his brains out with whatever he could find that still caused him pain. Waking up in the hospital room and feeling more than achy had been a novelty. So much time had passed since he'd received an injury serious enough to cause him pain that the 277

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receptors receiving the stimulation in his brain barely knew how to label it. There had been several moments after regaining consciousness when he honestly couldn't decode what his body was trying to tell him. That state hadn't lasted long, especially with the kid there to ask a million worried questions about his condition. Darren sighed and tracked his lover to where he now lounged against Chandra Daley's desk inside the Unit Borreal cubicle. Around him were gathered the five other agents in the Retrievers Division, plus the Chief. Tanner said something funny, most likely at his expense, judging by the covert glance in his direction. Everybody laughed. The kid had that elusive gift: the ability to make people laugh without alienating anyone or making someone feel bad about themselves. He gathered friends like a magnet gathered paperclips, his natural warmth never running dry. It was still hard for Darren to admit out loud that he loved the brat, but at least in the privacy of his own mind he could say those intimate words. When he was willing to grunt through the agonizing pain of black lightning, just to ensure Tanner wouldn't have to follow in his wake and face the same trial, his mind could no longer deceive itself. He didn't endure torture for someone he merely didn't hate, or even for a fuck buddy. He might not have known love in his lifetime, but it sure as hell knew him. It had taken someone as unique as Tanner, someone whose suffering in the past matched his own, to make him fall in love, but fall he had. The kid still shied away from talking about the years he'd spent as a pin cushion in hell. Time had 278

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moved differently there. Darren wasn't sure he could handle hearing the truth of that part of Tanner's life, but maybe, someday. The Chief still expected Darren to accompany Tanner on training exercises involving demonic activity, to give the kid pointers and monitor his progress, but they wouldn't work any more cases together. As much as he would miss the brat's naïve attempts at seducing him on the job, he knew it was for the best. He was tired of walking around at work like a cowboy who'd just stepped off a bull. Another glimpse of his lover between the bodies of coworkers revealed him to be opening a gift box someone had thrust into his hands. Tanner tore through the shiny paper covering the package, tossing it onto the ground instead of in the garbage can situated close by at his feet. He exclaimed with delight to find the box filled with what appeared to be assorted chocolates, and made a round of thank yous. Darren fought back a grimace, knowing some of that chocolate would be forced down his unwilling throat. The brat had made it clear that one of the things his "love" would do in their relationship was help him start living again. Toward that end, he found himself consuming some type of food and beverage every day, always at the tail end of an argument that he never won. The kid even forced him to sleep awhile every night, lying on top of him to guarantee he didn't sneak away. The sleeping really wasn't so bad, especially when he could stay awake and enjoy the feel of the solid warmth lying across his chest, and feel the small puffs of air against his 279

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neck that proved Tanner was alive and safe. The eating really wasn't all that bad either. His body wanted to regurgitate anything too heavy or in too large a portion, but he could feel his body making the necessary changes to digest and utilize food once again. And he did get to watch the sinful faces the brat made when savoring a dish he especially liked. His eyes would close, drawing his brows to a peak, and his luscious lips would pucker on a moan so heartfelt it nearly caused Darren to spill in his pants every time. There was nothing the kid did that didn't border on erotic, and Darren found that was enough incentive to make him do just about anything in turn. Darren sighed at the poor, whipped state of his life as Tanner broke away from his group of friends with a final farewell. As he approached, the older Retriever felt his pulse pick up, scattering the feelings of melancholy that had been hanging around his musings like ivy choking away the health of a strong tree. He could see contentment shining in the blue eyes that openly gazed up into his face, and felt the comfortable weight settle in his chest that he'd labeled as his love for this gangly brat who always wanted more from him and of him. "Everyone pitched in and got us a box of caramels for the flight. Wasn't that thoughtful?" Tanner insisted that they travel in an actual plane instead of transferring, so they would enjoy the whole "vacation experience." The only advantage he saw was that planes served alcohol. How the kid got tickets for them without a government-issued ID, he was sure he didn't want to know. 280

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"Are you finally ready?" Darren asked in his best disgruntled tone. "Yup. Just need to swing by your place and grab my luggage." "You don't really have to pack clothes. We can just transfer back to the apartment to get whatever we need." "Nope. That would be violating the spirit of this vacation. We are going to pretend to be a couple of real-life honeymooners. No cheating allowed." Darren sighed and held out his hand for the irritating kid, hiding the smile his dramatic antics caused. "Are you ready to start living it up?" Tanner asked cheerfully as he grasped Darren's offered hand. The feeling of the slender fingers sliding between his own to form a perfect enclosure made the weight in Darren's chest shift and settle back down with more pressure. There was nothing he wouldn't do to safeguard the happiness of those small hands, and the owner they belonged to. And that included restarting his life. "I don't think I ever had any other choice with you," he responded with gravity, his mind backpedaling to their first meeting and all the explosions between them since. Tanner snorted a sound that could have been a laugh or an agreement, and squeezed his hand harder as they passed through the main entrance to the Division. It amazed Darren that he didn't have the slightest urge to glance back at the heavy doors as they walked away. He squeezed the hand cradled in his own, returning the pressure, and took another step. 281

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