Hunter and Morgan: Gatecrasher

by H. K. Nightingale

  "You soon will be," Morgan said, breathlessly. He kissed Hunter on the mouth, firmly, thoroughly, until their bodies relaxed and he could get back inside him. Because it felt so very right to be there, to be as close as it was possible to be to another person, where every movement felt important and sweat slicked their skin and everything was so bloody right. He fucked Hunter with long, slow thrusts, his hand wrapped around Hunter's cock, and when Hunter was close he pushed deep inside and stayed there, moving just enough to keep the pleasure sparking. Hunter came with a yell; his arse clenched hard around Morgan and he shot long streams of come over himself and Morgan's hand. Just the smell of it tipped Morgan over, and it only took three quick thrusts for him to get him there. He felt Hunter's body twitch around him; he felt the blessed throb of relief through his balls and his magic surged the instant he let go.

  "I love you," Hunter said. "God, Morgan, you crazy wizard, I love you."

  And then the wardrobe door crashed open, and Aiyeda belched fire at them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "Is that a–"

  Morgan quickly scattered the carpet with ice, before the sparks that had settled there decided to catch. Flameproofing only went so far.

  "I am sorry." Aiyeda hissed to him. "Do you think your amante noticed?"

  "It's a dragon," said Hunter, weakly.

  "Oh, he noticed," said Morgan.

  "I could not help it. You were all kissy kissy and with the passion and the declarations. Would you prefer I set fire to your cupboard?"

  "Of course not."

  "Well then." Aiyeda waved a claw in Hunter's direction. "Am I to be introduced?"

  Well, if Hunter ran away now, at least Morgan had one more happy memory to keep him company. "Okay. Come along."

  Hunter was kneeling on the bed, his lower half wrapped in a sheet. Morgan picked Aiyeda up and cradled her in one arm. She was a bit trembly; for all her bravado he knew she had really done her best to help him. And if it wasn't for her he'd have set fire to the whole room when he'd come, never mind scorched the carpet.

  He popped her onto the end of the bed and sat down next to Hunter. "This is Aiyeda," he said. "Aiyeda, this is Damian Hunter. He's a very close friend of mine."

  "Phfft, you don't need to tell me that. The door to that cupboard is paper-thin." She gave Hunter a long look, then bowed her head. "A pleasure, I'm sure, Señor Hunter."

  "Um," said Hunter. "Hello?"

  "Aiyeda is my familiar," Morgan said. "Or, more accurately, she's my magic. A manifestation of my magic."

  "Is it real?"

  "Oh yes. She's a part of me, but when she comes out into the world she's a separate entity. She has her own personality, and she can think for herself. Magic is more than power, you see."

  "You make it sound like possession."

  "Modern researchers think it's a kind of symbiotic relationship between the energy of human life and something else. But nobody really knows. Aiyeda's a great help when my magic is a bit too full on and I need to release it safely. It's a bit like grounding, I suppose, except it doesn't make me woozy."

  "Does she do what you say?"

  Aiyeda snorted. "I am still here, you two who are talking about me as if I was something in a boring book. Of course I do what he says. Now, how about a bit of entertainment, hm? That cupboard was very dark and dull."

  "I told you," Morgan said. "My iPad's out of charge."

  "Well, this is no problem now I am out of the cupboard, is it?" She gave an evil little waggle of her not inconsiderable eyebrows. "You can plug it in."

  Morgan gave Hunter a sheepish grin. "Sorry about this."

  Hunter said, "Fine," with a somewhat hysterical edge to his voice. But he watched without comment while Morgan set up his iPad on the desk. He pulled the pillow out of the cupboard and plumped it up on the chair. Hunter did flinch when Aiyeda launched herself with excited little wings to fly over to Morgan, but he didn't protest. Morgan settled her with a very, very long playlist of Roadrunner videos on YouTube, and went back to bed.

  "I'll understand, if you can't take all this," Morgan said. "I know it's a lot."

  Hunter looked from Aiyeda to Morgan. "It's fine. I mean, no, it's not, you have a fucking dragon, but she seems very nice and, um. I meant it."

  "Meant what?"

  "I love you."

  Something blossomed in Morgan's heart, the sort of magic that wasn't about fire or ice or dragons, and he nestled himself into Hunter's arms.

  They propped themselves up against the headboard with pillows, the covers pulled up comfortably to their hips. They held hands, fingers threaded together. Morgan traced Hunter's knuckles, memorising every ridge and hollow. "So, if all this detecting brought us together, any chance you can make up with Jess?"

  "What d'you mean?"

  Morgan said gently, "I know she's majos."

  Hunter sighed. "She's not like you."

  "No, but it sounded as if you were so close when you were kids."

  "We were. She was different, then." Hunter sighed. "You remember I told you about Mum and the whole magic pregnancy thing? Same thing happened to Jess. Only, she didn't tell me. I found out by accident at Liam's second birthday party."

  "How?"

  "We were in her kitchen. She was putting candles on his cake, I was waiting to carry it into the living room, where the party was. I had a box of matches all ready in my hand. But she just–" He wiggled his fingers, "–and they lit. By magic."

  "Oh."

  "She looked horrified. Obviously she hadn't meant for me to find out."

  Morgan could imagine that all too well. "It's not her fault, though. It's not like she chose it, anymore than you chose to look at that boy's arse in the gym that day at school."

  "But she could have told me."

  Like you could have told her you were gay, Morgan thought. But he didn't say it. He and Hunter were at the beginning of something good, and he didn't want to risk it. Twelve hours ago the guy had been terrified of magic. Now he was sitting in Morgan's bed while Aiyeda snorted at cartoons and idly rustled her gleaming golden scales. That was excellent progress for now.

  "We bluffed through the party for Liam's sake," Hunter continued. "Liam's dad collected him afterwards. Suddenly the whole divorce thing made sense. Jess and I screamed at each other for a couple of hours. Said some disgusting things, most of which we probably didn't mean, but some we did. And that was that. I left the force, set up on my own, we didn't see each other anymore, until I got that phone call out of the blue about Reginald Klyne. As you've seen, things haven't exactly improved between us."

  Morgan ached for Jess. For Hunter. For every majos who found themselves burdened with a talent so few understood, and that everyone was afraid of.

  But maybe, for Hunter at least, things could change.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  There were no books or research experiments in Brooke's office, and nor was there so much as a hint of Essence. It was just an ordinary GP's room, except that Brooke sat on a plain, plastic chair, like Morgan, instead of the office chair at the desk. There were tissues on the table between them, and a small globe that would crackle with pretty coloured lights inside if anyone's magic got too excited.

  It was very different from Michaela's office, and Morgan was pleased about that.

  Brooke sat cross-legged in her chair and guided Morgan through an initial meditation. Her voice was soothing and Morgan let himself relax into it. He didn't need to worry too much about his control or focus; he'd been diligent in the week after his encounter with Paul Bates, and Aiyeda had made an appearance most days. Last night she'd fallen asleep on Morgan's lap while Hunter stroked her head, although it had taken a fair bit of firm instruction on her part to make sure he did it right. Hunter seemed to be - well, not warming to her, exactly, but he certainly wasn't so scared.

  "And we're back in the room," said Brooke. "How are you feeling, Morgan?"

  "Okay. No, um, good. Things are better."

&
nbsp; "How are you feeling about Dr Rosero?"

  "I haven't thought about her much."

  That wasn't strictly true. At first, when Sahil told him she'd turned up in Barcelona, alive and well and not at all kidnapped, he'd been relieved. Then, as it seemed she had no intention of coming back, and there was no explanation for why her office was left how it was, and Sahil assured him the CCTV in the road outside showed her leaving in apparent good health and unaccompanied, an uneasy suspicion set in. Morgan found himself considering that she'd left because she knew, somehow, that the jig was about to be up about her making Essence. Which made him feel terribly disloyal and angry. But he couldn't tell anyone any of that. Not even Brooke. And so it tended to go round and around in his brain when he lay next to Hunter at night and couldn't sleep.

  "You said last time that her leaving felt like a betrayal."

  "I've known her since I was in primary school. She didn't even say goodbye."

  "I'm sorry, Morgan. That sucks."

  "Yeah. Well. It's up to her, isn't it? She doesn't owe me anything."

  "Doesn't she?"

  Well, perhaps she did. Morgan sat up a bit straighter in his seat. Yeah, perhaps after all he'd been through a civil 'Goodbye, I'm off to Spain, here's the number of your new counsellor' had been in order. And with the recognition, the anger faded away, just like that.

  That out of the way, he spent most of the session talking about Caleb. He'd gone back to work at Oyster, and if Morgan had had to charm his way around Pearl to make that happen, well nobody need ever know. Everything about Bubble was at the centre of a police investigation now and, as it was a majos-related case, full press restriction was in force. It hadn't taken much to convince Pearl, anyway. Caleb had always been her golden boy. She'd offered to take Morgan back too, but, well, he had other plans.

  "Oh yes?" said Brooke. "What plans?"

  "Oh, nothing special," Morgan said. "An old client took me on permanently."

  "It must feel really good to have more security," said Brooke.

  "Yes," Morgan's heart fluttered. "It does."

  Morgan put his rucksack on his desk in Hunter's office, next to the shiny computer and a small pile of papers that had accumulated. He stacked the papers neatly and put them in his in tray.

  Then he opened his bag and got out his mug, a pint of milk and a small pot plant.

  Hunter emerged from the kitchen. "I've got the kettle on, Mr Kerry."

  "Thank you, Mr Hunter. Would you like me to make tea?"

  Hunter leaned casually on his own desk. "That would be awfully kind. Could you come here a moment, please?"

  There was a twinkle in his eye, and he looked ridiculously hot, with all the leaning and stretched muscles and his soft, golden hair. Morgan stalked across the room to him.

  "What can I do for you, Mr Hunter?"

  "Three things. Firstly, as it's your first day, I would very much like to take you to lunch."

  Morgan moved a little closer, so his thigh touched Hunter's.

  "Second, I'm going to need your help putting the Klyne case properly to bed."

  "Of course."

  Hunter's arms slipped around Morgan's waist.

  "And third–" Hunter kissed him on the nose. "–I rather want to ravish you on my desk. Do you think that might be arranged?"

  "On my first day? Mr Hunter, you are so forward."

  "Says the man who couldn't wait to ride my cock to oblivion last night."

  Morgan sighed in mock martyrdom. "All right, then. Ravish me. If you must."

  Hunter quickly spun them around so that it was Morgan who felt the sturdy wooden desk behind him, and then he kissed him, bending him backwards so his hair brushed Hunter's blotter. Morgan's mind was whirling with possibilities, and he was about to hop himself properly onto the desk when he heard a knocking sound. Like someone knocking. On a door.

  The door.

  They sprang apart just in time; the door to the office swung open and a woman came inside. She wore bright red lipstick, an immaculate skirt-suit, high heels and the silkiest blouse Morgan had ever seen. Her hair was an ebony sweep across her forehead, a perfect chignon at the back.

  "Mr Hunter?" she asked.

  "That's me," Hunter said.

  "Oh, thank goodness," said the woman. "I really need your help."

  Morgan whispered discreetly to Hunter, "I thought you said strange women never come to your office pleading for help"

  "I said almost never," Hunter whispered back, his lips brushing Morgan's ear, and then he said to the woman, "Why don't you take a seat and tell me all about it?"

  "I'll make some tea," said Morgan.

  About the Author

  HK Nightingale writes about people falling in love, staying in love and, quite often, fighting evil. It usually ends well.

  New to the romance genre, she has published various other things here and there, and has served a decades-long apprenticeship as a fanfiction writer.

  She lives in Yorkshire with two rather odd and fluffy cats, teaches creative writing to many lovely people and gets far too involved with video games. She listens to a lot of BBC Radio 4 and watches a lot of reality TV, which really confuses people’s algorithms.

  She's currently working on the next book in the Hunter and Morgan series, and putting the finishing touches on the first of an urban fantasy romance trilogy, Moonside, to be published at the end of 2019.

  You can find out more at www.hknightingale.com and follow her on Twitter @hk_nightingale.

  Acknowledgements

  To Fragilespark for the art and cover design; to Emma and Kate for first reading and edits; to Mim for giving me wisdom and spoons when I ran out; and to everyone who encouraged me along the way...

  Thank you.

  I have the best cheerleading squad ever.