Undone

by R Phoenix

  “So tell me about the incubus, Detective, please. Your input and insights could be invaluable to our database.”

  “I’m not sure… There isn’t much to tell. He’s pretty… forgettable,” he said, but that didn’t feel right. He could recall the guy perfectly. Kolt was something to behold. He was— “He’s about 5’10. He’s got blond hair, but like really light blond hair, and—”

  “No, no, that’s useless to me,” Percy cut him off. “I meant about your experience with him.”

  “I was drunk, he came onto me, we had sex,” Bryce answered, much to Percy’s growing frustration. “What isn’t helpful about what I’m saying?”

  “Detective Ackerman, there is so little known about incubi because they’re shapechangers. They don’t remain in the same form for long. They’re impossible to document because of their ability to diffuse themselves. Once you’re out of their influence, the encounter fades quickly from memory. You know what happened on an abstract level because you were there, but you don’t know how, and can’t recall any details. Is that what is going on, you think?” Percy asked.

  “Yes,” Bryce said slowly. He wasn’t sure if he qualified for that, but it seemed to fit his inability to explain what had happened to a T.

  “Then I’m fairly certain, Detective, that you have been exposed to his magic. That’s why you’re—”

  “Obsessed?” Bryce interrupted, feeling vaguely vindicated that he got to do it to Percy this time.

  “I was going to say confused,” Percy corrected, but he made a note on his notepad anyway.

  “Why are you documenting all of this? Are you a shrink too? Should I worry?” he asked.

  “I also work in the science department, though that is a very insufficient human phrase for what we do there. Your confusion is common enough. Not being able to verbalize seems to be part of the incubus’ influence...” he answered, sounding as sullen and disappointed as a kid deprived of its favorite toy.

  It didn’t take detective training to figure out that Percy had a genuine vested interest in this database of his.

  “I thought this was a police station, like… department of justice. What do we need a science department for? What do you do there?” It was the obvious question, and again it seemed Percy was way ahead of him. Perhaps he really was just predictable, or perhaps all humans just went through this.

  “We document the interaction of fae and otherkin with humans, to see how the two affect one another and to get our database as complete as possible. We hope that one day we can accurately judge and regulate things as intangible as magic and interfering with mankind.”

  Bryce wasn’t sure he got all of that — or that he wanted to get it. It seemed like something suited to a university, not a police department.

  “If you would like to come with me, I will show you,” Percy offered.

  Bryce nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.

  Percy led him out of the office and down the hallway in the opposite direction of where he’d come from. They were on the seventh floor, and nothing had indicated this was the science department. It seemed the Organization was enigmatic, inside and out.

  Bryce was starting to understand Leandro’s interest in the place and what they knew about him. “So you study… otherkin, while you are otherkin?” He followed Percy, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Correct.” Percy nodded. “The otherkin are elusive, and unless you’ve been there, the fae realm is hard to explain. Many species of otherkin exist. We barely know anything about some of them, like incubi. Sirens and wraiths are also variable in nature, and they’re hard to find out in the world. Their presence is so ingrained in human society or fae society that no one seems to be aware they’re even there at all.”

  “Even to other… otherkin?” Bryce asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. It was kind of a relief that he could do that again.

  “Exactly, and we know even less about how they all interact socially, and with humankind, other than that it sometimes goes badly…”

  “Which is a crime,” Bryce concluded with a slow nod. He had retained that much from the briefing.

  “Well,” Percy began.

  Bryce was beginning to wonder what the guy must think of him, given he was asking a lot of questions with answers that were evidently very obvious to Percy. It was a good thing the guy’s patience was pretty much endless. Either he really loved his job, or he was some sort of otherkin who was well-equipped to deal with stupid. He’d have to look in the database…

  “It’s not a crime to interact with humans. For many otherkin, it’s a necessity. They feed off of humans but offer something in return. It’s symbiotic in nature, and then there is no problem, of course. It’s when the relationship to the human becomes parasitic that it becomes problematic. We otherkin cannot harm humans. If we do…”

  “That’s the crime,” Bryce predicted.

  Percy nodded. “The fae have a bad rep, because they don’t need anything from humans. The only time they do interact with humankind is—”

  “To get something out of it. To fuck with them, it’s for their amusement,” Bryce filled in the blank himself this time, because he had done some reading — and despite what Percy was probably thinking, he wasn’t a complete moron.

  “Exactly!” Percy said cheerfully, looking back at him with a beaming smile. “It’s just through here.” He swiped his key card, which unlocked the door to the science department, apparently.

  Or rather, the hallway leading to the science department, because behind the first door was another door. Once the door closed behind them, a red light came on in the intersection between the doors. Percy swiped his card again with practiced ease, waiting with his hand on the handle to push it open once it unlocked.

  “To prevent anything from slipping in and out unnoticed.” Percy explained, even though he hadn’t asked.

  Either his confused wondering was predictable, or Percy had lied about the mind-reading thing. “Like an outbreak monkey?” Bryce asked, deadpan.

  “Like a glimmer, who can turn invisible, for example, or a shapeshifter who got a hold of a security card.” The second door buzzed open, and the red light turned back to the regular white light.

  The second door gave way to a white room that was reminiscent of a hospital room.

  “This is what I expected when they told me to go see medical. Not your… shrink office,” Bryce muttered as he looked down the white corridor. The doors on the left were all windowed, showing laboratories behind them. Some were complete with plastic bubbles, others more like operating rooms in hospitals, and some… some just looked like gyms, really. Treadmills, and weights, with one room that was completely white and empty.

  “What exactly do you do here, Percy?” Bryce asked, feeling a little cautious as he looked at the other doors.

  “It’s… complicated,” Percy said, and it was the first time he seemed like he was being less than honest. It was unnerving, to say the least.

  “Because?” Bryce prompted. “Are you detaining people here?”

  “Not right now.” Percy’s eyes flicked to the window of the empty room. “But we do, sometimes. When we encounter otherkin too dangerous to let near mankind, we have to contain them until we rehabilitate them, or until we have a better solution for them. We can’t exactly… put them in prison with humans, as you understand, and we don’t always have the means to send them back to their own realms.”

  That did not sound reassuring.

  “What else?” Bryce asked, peering through the much smaller windows on the rooms to the right. They showed hospital like rooms: two beds and a TV. It would’ve looked almost nice if it wasn’t for the windowless walls and the big lock on the door.

  “Rehabilitation. Otherkin can injure each other. We help them recover here if they need it. We try not to be the bad guys.”

  “But to the fae and otherkin, we are,” Bryce said, because the notion hadn’t gone by him.

  He hadn’t forgotten the f
act that his employment there was still part of his punishment. Internal Affairs expected him to fucking die on this job, at the very least…

  “Well, for now, but we hope that we can—”

  “Be perceived as a more diplomatic institution, a bridge between mankind and otherkin,” someone else said from behind them.

  Percy shut up instantly.

  Bryce turned around to look at the second man, who was— “Human,” Bryce predicted, extending a hand.

  “We usually use names, but I’ve read your file and heard about your… pickle,” the grey-haired man wearing a white lab coat said, indicating his face.

  “No one warned me about the side-effects of the badge,” Bryce lied, grinning. “Detective Ackerman,” he said anyway, to meet the science nerd halfway.

  “Call me Tobias. I take it Percy has been showing you around,” the man said.

  Bryce nodded. “He’s been most insightful. How exactly are you going to take us from a force of evil, incarcerating their babies, to a diplomatic institution?” he asked dryly.

  “Well… ah… Knowledge is… power,” Tobias replied with a slow nod. “The science department is of vital importance, and it is important to us that new recruits know that. If you do encounter something that is… outside of the norm for otherkin, we would appreciate it if it was reported straight to us,” Tobias said.

  Bryce narrowed his eyes. “Is that a directive, or just a latent desire?” he asked.

  Tobias laughed coyly, looking at Percy, who mimicked the laugh as best he could. “It’s… well, it’s not directive, but we’re hoping it will be in the future.”

  “Why not just… round them all up? A good ol’ fashioned witch hunt? They have no rights by law like humans do, right, Percy?” Bryce asked, making a circling hand gesture with one hand before shoving it back into his pocket.

  “Well.” Tobias laughed.

  “Magic,” Percy said dryly. “They will… fuck our shit up. Pardon the vernacular.”

  “I assure you, Detective,” Tobias said. “Every one of the otherkin that stay in this wing do so of their own free will.”

  Where had he heard those words before? Otherkin seemed to have a strange idea of free will.

  “So what do you have to study right now?” Bryce asked.

  “Well. You,” Tobias said with another guffaw, which made Bryce wonder about his sense of humor as well.

  “Me?” he repeated.

  “You’ve been exposed to not only fae, but also an incubus. It’s imperative we do some tests,” Tobias insisted.

  “Like?” Bryce asked apprehensively. “I’m not getting on a treadmill.”

  “We would just like to establish baseline parameters for now,” Percy explained, his bedside manner much slicker than Tobias’. “It will take thirty minutes or so. Consider it a physical, for insurance purposes.”

  “You’re going to make me get on the treadmill, aren’t you?” Bryce asked with a grumble.

  “A little,” Percy agreed.

  “I knew this was all a trap…” Bryce muttered as he took off his gun and holster.

  Chapter Ten

  If Kolt had ever had a temper tantrum that had lasted this long, Leandro couldn’t remember it — which was probably a good thing, because it was utterly exasperating. Too many of these episodes, and he might have decided to lift his protection and be done with the incubus.

  But no.

  “What’s that saying?” Leandro asked idly, running his hands along Kolt’s bare flesh. “When he was good, he was very, very good…”

  “What?” Kolt asked, the subtle purr usually evident in his voice missing.

  “There’s… something humans say,” Leandro replied as though he noticed nothing at all. His fingers trailed along Kolt’s stomach, down to the waistband of the barely-there shorts he’d bought Kolt because they concealed next to nothing. They were just enough to tempt and tease… “It reminds me of you.”

  There was a quiver along Kolt’s skin, that he liked, but even if he touched him in the exact same spot, the exact same way, Leandro couldn’t replicate it.

  “I don’t know. Just an expression, I think,” Kolt answered him, less than helpful.

  Leandro’s hand slid down over Kolt’s groin, feeling the brief pulse of magic in the air when the charm he wore overwhelmed the bracelet’s restrictions. “What will it take for you to stop sulking, Kol’tso?” He brushed his lips gently against his incubus’s neck.

  “I’m not sulking,” Kolt said, but there was no playfulness to the words, nor was it a lie. It seemed impossible, given that all of his sweet, doting ministrations barely warmed the incubus up.

  “Then what do you call this?” Leandro retorted, his tongue flicking out to taste Kolt’s skin. “Hmm? You should be half in my lap, luring me into our room.” Instead, he was acting like a human woman during her time of the month.

  Kolt’s hand came up, and he ran it lightly through Leandro’s hair. That was truer to form, especially with the way that head tilted to expose more of his neck. Kolt said nothing, though, quiet for several heartbeats.

  Leandro tightened his hand on the incubus’ crotch, evoking a sharp intake of breath.

  “Sorry,” Kolt said. “I’m just tired,” he added, and that felt suspiciously like a lie, even if it was edged in enough truth to make it difficult for Leandro to read.

  Leandro nipped the spot he liked so much on Kolt’s throat, the one he used to mark his incubus time and again. “I have a surprise for you,” he murmured.

  Gideon’s resourcefulness and swiftness had surprised him, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. He was pleased that Gideon had managed to find something to exempt him from the bracelet’s bindings so he, at least, could feed his incubus without extra effort.

  That got Kolt’s attention, and the incubus craned his neck to look up at him. His eyebrows drew up in a silent question.

  “I don’t need to use the incantation anymore,” Leandro breathed, watching Kolt’s features intently for the relief and joy he expected to see. It didn’t come. He frowned. “That means you can always draw sustenance from me. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

  Kolt seemed to study him, the same way he was studying Kolt.

  Leandro’s frown deepened a little further. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the hell else the ungrateful, vapid thing wanted. Before he could speak, the incubus’ lips were on his, and a tongue slipped between his parted lips.

  He moaned, satisfaction racing through him at Kolt’s reaction. He didn’t need words, not when this was the response. He was hard almost instantly, and he knew the sexual energy he exuded would be a veritable feast for the incubus.

  There. Now things would go back to normal.

  Tired or not, his incubus came to life then, moving to slip into his lap as he’d suggested earlier. The kiss that Leandro was so passively accepting turned into something more enticing. He let Kolt coax him for a moment, several moments even, making the incubus work for it. It wasn’t until he felt the twitch of Kolt’s hips grinding into him, that he grabbed a hold of the back of his neck and took back control of the situation.

  There was something to be said for keeping his incubus close — many things, really, but one in particular. No one else tainted him, changing his shape or the color of his hair, and he was precisely what Leandro wanted him to be. Surely it was better for both of them. He kissed Kolt harder, his other hand reaching to grab the incubus’ firm ass.

  Kolt intercepted his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing his hand tightly. The incubus clutched at him, while his other arm wound around Leandro’s neck. He liked the hunger in his incubus, the way he’d begged for it last time, had practically debased himself for it. His otherwise stubborn and proud Kol’tso was now pressing up against him, almost demanding it. Because when he was good…

  Leandro ignored the sound of a throat clearing, not looking up as he murmured against Kolt’s throat, “Not now, Gideon.”

&n
bsp; Words he shouldn’t have said, clearly, as they seemed to snap Kolt into the wrong sort of focus. The needy grind of those hips slowed and stopped, the hand gripping him slackened a little, and Leandro could feel more than see that lithe body turn to regard Gideon.

  Leandro glanced up at Gideon too, leaning back against the couch in resignation even as his lips pressed into a thin, dissatisfied line. “What is it?” He didn’t loosen his grasp on Kolt — and so help him if he tried to move away.

  “It’s about Ackerman,” Gideon said mildly.

  His most trusted muscle was interrupting him because of the human? Anger flared through him, searing him from the inside out. Not only had the human taken something from Kolt that should’ve been his alone, but now that his incubus had finally come to him, he was the reason for the interruption.

  The only reason he didn’t lose his temper was that it seemed like Kolt immediately lost interest in what the man had to say. He turned back to Leandro, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

  “It can wait,” Leandro snarled his anger barely fading. “I’m busy.”

  “You’re on the main floor,” Gideon retorted.

  Kolt guffawed against Leandro’s neck before going still against him.

  Leandro stared up at the man, but even Gideon’s brief hesitation didn’t erase the rage. “I’m in a private area on the main floor of my own establishment,” he snapped.

  Gideon at least had the sense not to argue. He bowed his head. “I’ll return later then.” He paused, then added hastily enough to soothe Leandro somewhat, “Sir.”

  “Maybe we should move this to someplace more private,” Kolt murmured against his neck between kisses, but the incubus didn’t move.

  On one hand, Leandro knew he needed to tend to business, but on the other…

  Kolt was so eager, so willing, and he’d been horribly sullen lately. He didn’t want to lose that. He hadn’t gotten this far by ignoring pressing matters, though, and he let out an impatient huff.

  He tried to console himself with the knowledge that his incubus would be even needier, even more receptive, if he had to wait. It still wasn’t something he had an easy time believing when all he wanted to do was bury his cock in that tight ass. “Make it quick,” he told Gideon.