I Hear They Burn for Murder

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I Hear They Burn for Murder Page 31

by J L Aarne


  Rainer smiled in a teasing way. “Who said I was talking about me?”

  Ezekiel sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  Rainer touched his fingers to Ezekiel’s neck just above the collar of his shirt and watched him to see if he would jerk away from him or tell him no. When he didn’t, when he held his gaze unflinchingly, Rainer slid them up the sides of his neck into his hair. He liked that and his expression softened a little as Rainer petted his fingers through it.

  “Tell me something,” Rainer said. Ezekiel made an affirmative sound in his throat.

  The music had wound down to a low throb and dwindled to a stop and they stood there in the quiet as people went back to talking all around them.

  “Does knowing yourself to be more human than you think I am do anything to soothe the overwhelming feeling of existential confusion and profound ennui that comes with it?” Rainer asked. “Tell me the truth, Ezekiel, aren’t you bored?”

  “Not really. I find ways of keeping myself entertained,” Ezekiel said.

  “I’m sure you do,” Rainer said, “but I still don’t believe you. I was bored before you showed up, pushed your nose into my business and inserted yourself into my life. It happens sometimes, you know. You become better at something through repetition. You can become an expert, a goddamn virtuoso of your craft and maybe for a while it’s your passion. Then sometimes, if you go through the same routine often enough, you get to be great at it, but you lose interest in doing it. And that’s where I was, so you see, it’s really all your fault.”

  Ezekiel frowned at him. “My fault that you do what?”

  “Oh, whatever it is you think I’ve done that’s so naughty,” Rainer said.

  The band returned to their instruments and began playing another song. It wasn’t music soft or mellow enough to dance to slowly, but Ezekiel and Rainer didn’t break apart or step back from one another. They stood there swaying a little to the same rhythm.

  “You should try to let it out sometimes,” Rainer said. He plucked up Ezekiel’s tie and lightly tugged it. “Loosen your tie, have a little fun. You could be beautiful.”

  Ezekiel made a throaty sound of amusement. “Let it out? Is that what you do, Rainer? Let some monster out? Is that what you tell yourself?”

  “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and it would be such a fucking tragedy if you were wasted.” He stopped moving with Ezekiel and let his tie drop. “What you think of as wrong, what you consider to be unthinkable, is no more challenging or miraculous than walking through a door or stepping over a line drawn on the floor. Someone else built that door, drew that line, and the barrier it represents is imaginary. There is nothing stopping you. If you will is all. That’s it. Will you? How powerful is that?”

  Ezekiel stared at him, surprised by the idea. It wasn’t a totally new concept, but Rainer said it like that, so simply, and it made such sense. He crushed the thought almost the instant it passed through his mind though because even entertaining such ideas put him at risk of losing control and falling over the edge of the cliff. Once he started falling, there was nowhere to go but down. He hadn’t clawed and scratched his way to where he was—exactly where he wanted to be—by letting the monsters like Rainer Bryssengur get inside his head. He let Rainer go.

  Rainer watched him as Ezekiel took a step back from him and he could see him thinking. This fascination between them went both ways and Ezekiel was very like Rainer, but he was not the same. Rainer had encountered others like himself before, some intelligent and practiced at wearing the mask that made them seem so normal, and others stupid and vicious like rabid dogs. Ezekiel was not a psychopath; Rainer wasn’t sure what he was, but he wore a mask. He wore it well. He had been wearing it well for too long. He kept the monster inside on a leash and in a cage. Maybe he let it out to feed and run wild once in a while, but not often enough, not when it really wanted to run. He had been depriving it of what it wanted, what it needed, for so long that it was tearing its way free anyway.

  Rainer took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one and offered the pack to Ezekiel. Ezekiel took one and he passed him his lighter. “You aren’t free. You aren’t powerful. You haven’t been for a long time, have you?” Rainer asked. Ezekiel didn’t answer him, but he didn’t require an answer. “Hunting monsters used to be enough. Is it still enough?”

  Ezekiel exhaled smoke into his face and growled low in his throat. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he said. “You don’t know me, Rainer. We are not friends. We’re damn well not alike. You are a fucking serial killer; I run a department of the FBI. If I was anything like you, I wouldn’t be the hunter. I’d be the hunted. You want to remember that because I’m still watching you.”

  Rainer ran his eyes over Ezekiel, noted the tension in his body, in his stance, the way his hand shook just a little when he lifted it to put his cigarette in his mouth. He was mad, but he was a little shaken, too.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Rainer said. “How about you watch me go get another beer?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Ezekiel said.

  Rainer tilted his head and looked up toward the top post of the doorway near where they were standing. Someone had tacked a glittery mistletoe ornament over the door. He stepped back toward Ezekiel, closing the little bit of space he had put between them and pointed to it. “All right. Kiss me. Just once. You kiss me for a change. Then I’ll go away and leave you alone. For tonight.”

  Ezekiel backed up again and looked at the mistletoe. “No. Absolutely not. We are not doing this. You are a suspect, goddamn it.”

  “Unofficially,” Rainer said. “Which is like not being a suspect at all.”

  “I said no,” Ezekiel snapped.

  Rainer sighed. “I heard you. Fine. As you like it, Agent Herod.”

  He flicked ash in Ezekiel’s direction, turned and walked away from him. He bumped into Trichto coming out of the kitchen as he was going back in. With Ezekiel’s eyes on him, Rainer caught the front of Trichto’s sweater in one hand, pulled him in and kissed him before Trichto realized what was happening. Trichto tensed and made a startled sound of protest, but Rainer held onto his shirt, deepened the kiss and Trichto started to relax into it. Rainer slipped his tongue into his mouth and Trichto moaned as he broke the kiss and let him go.

  Ezekiel was gone from the doorway when Rainer turned his head to look. He was across the room in conversation with someone, the only indication that he had noticed what Rainer did his rigid posture.

  “What was that for?” Trichto asked.

  “For?” Rainer said. “It wasn’t for anything.”

  “Are you and Ezekiel… ah…?” Trichto let the question trail off, unsure exactly how to ask it.

  “No,” Rainer said.

  “Because it kind of seems like you are.”

  “We’re not.”

  “So you didn’t just kiss me because he was watching?”

  Rainer smiled a little and went to get another beer. “It wasn’t the only reason,” he said. He offered one to Trichto, but Trichto still had his bottle and showed it to him. “But it might have had a little something to do with it.”

  “Okay,” Trichto said. “What’s the other reason?”

  Rainer twisted the top off his beer. “Because I wanted to. I usually do what I want to, don’t you?”

  “Sure. I guess,” Trichto said. He turned his bottle between his hands. “So, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t be offended.”

  “I can’t promise that until I know what you want to ask me.”

  Trichto sighed. “Fine. So, Sol was running a background check on you, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I figured it out,” Rainer said.

  “Ezekiel asked him to do it.”

  “I figured that out, too. What’s the question?”

  “Did you kill those people? I mean, that’s why he wanted him to look. Are you… um, you know, a
serial killer?”

  Rainer laughed. “Do you actually think I’m going to tell you that I am?” he asked.

  “No, I suppose not. But you’re my daughter’s teacher. I’m concerned.”

  “I am not going to kill your daughter,” Rainer said. He could promise him that.

  “That’s what she said,” Trichto said.

  Rainer raised his beer bottle to Trichto in a toasting gesture. “There you go. Cheers.”

  As the party started to wind down in the early morning, some people found rooms to crash in and others crawled up on one of the sofas to fall asleep. Rainer expected Ezekiel to leave early, but he didn’t. He didn’t get sloppy drunk, but he stayed and he mingled and did more cocaine. Every once in a while, Rainer would look and Ezekiel would be turning his head to look away from him.

  The band stopped playing and for a while it was just Svarog with an acoustic guitar, strumming it between bursts of actual singing. Rainer and Trichto had a few drinks together and then a few more and ended up on one of the sofas listening to Svarog. Even Svarog eventually got tired of it though. After a very strange rendition of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” that sounded a lot like holiday salutations from an obscene caller, he put the guitar away and devoted himself to finishing off a bottle of grape flavored vodka.

  Mary was drunk and crossed the room to where Devion sat in a chair by the windows and plopped herself down in his lap. “Hey, Mr. Wolf. I’m trying to make up my own Christmas carol and Samhain’s fucking useless. You wanna help?”

  “No,” Devion said. He did not make her get off of his lap though.

  “Pleeeeease?” Mary begged.

  “No.”

  “All right,” Mary said, like he had happily agreed. “So, I can’t decide what to call it. I’m thinking ‘Twelve Days of Rape Christmas’ or—and I like this one better, actually—‘Went Out for a Jog, Got Kidnapped and Locked in Some Freak’s Basement for Twelve Days of Christmas’. What do you think?”

  Devion coughed out a surprised laugh. “What?”

  “Yeah, so I’ve got the first two days I think. Want to hear?”

  “Sure.”

  “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me one forced sodomy,” Mary sang.

  Devion grinned.

  “Oh, God,” Trichto muttered.

  “On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two golden showers and one forced sodomy.” She stopped singing and looked at him. “Now we need something for the third day.”

  “Three different STDs?” Devion suggested.

  “Yes! So, okay… On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me one forced sodomy, two golden showers and three different STDs. Oh, I know, on the fourth day, he should totally apologize for that shit because ew. Four times.”

  “This is awful,” Trichto said.

  “It’s awesome,” Rainer said.

  “Fisting,” Devion said.

  “Ooh, yes,” Mary said. “So, on the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me five deep fistings.” She laughed. “This is going to be great. Let’s sing it.”

  They did and it was horribly inappropriate, but hilarious. When Mary declared the song complete, they also had six bunny vibrators, seven bottles of lube, eight strings of anal beads, nine pairs of handcuffs, ten enemas, eleven pearl necklaces and twelve unwanted pregnancies. They argued about the twelve unwanted pregnancies being physically impossible, but in the end they stayed.

  Rainer sat with his back to the armrest of the sofa, his legs over Trichto’s and he was comfortable. He liked these people and could say that about nearly all of them, which was uncommon for him since most people in the world did not interest him. Not as people. Not for their personalities. Most people did not matter and these people still didn’t, but he enjoyed them. It was peculiar, but not unpleasant.

  Trichto leaned toward him and Rainer smiled. Trichto was drunk. They both were, though Rainer didn’t feel that drunk as long as he remained seated. Trichto reached toward him and touched his face and Rainer sat up and met him halfway to kiss him. It was nice and he liked Trichto, would not have minded doing more with Trichto than kissing because even if he hadn’t liked him, he was sexy—in an oblivious sort of way. But he had promised Thomas not to and Trichto was still a stranger by almost anyone’s standards.

  “Wow, Tri-Daddy and Mr. Bryssengur are making out,” Mary commented. “Am I for real seeing this? That is so hot, isn’t— Wait. Where’s Ezekiel going?”

  Rainer lifted his head, ending the kiss, and looked around to see what she was talking about. He caught sight of Ezekiel’s back just as he disappeared down the hallway toward the elevator. He walked quickly, with purpose but also anger. Rainer might not know him and perhaps they were not friends as Ezekiel had said, but he was familiar enough with the man, had been watching him long enough and wondering, to recognize his anger when he saw it.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go,” Rainer told Trichto as he got up from the sofa.

  He heard the freight elevator clang to their floor and the door grate open and hurried after Ezekiel. Ezekiel had stepped aboard it and had just pulled the door closed when Rainer reached it, grabbed the sliding door and pushed it back up.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ezekiel demanded.

  “Leaving. With you. What’s it look like?” Rainer asked. He got on the elevator and closed the door. Then he stood across from Ezekiel and waited for him to push the button that would take them down. “Unless you’ve decided to stay?”

  “No,” Ezekiel said. He hit the button and the elevator started to move. “You’re following me.”

  “It would seem so.”

  “Well don’t.”

  “What are you mad about?”

  “I’m not mad about anything. It’s late. I’m going home.”

  “Liar.”

  “You are one to fucking talk.”

  “I’m not the one who’s leaving all pissed off about something. You are. What’s wrong?”

  “What do you care?”

  “I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “You spend half the damn night baiting me, then you—Never mind.” Ezekiel cut himself off and looked away from him. “Just never mind.”

  The elevator reached the ground floor and he started to roll the door up, but Rainer stepped between him and the door and stopped him. They stared at each other, both challenging and wary of what the other might do. It was Rainer who stepped in close to him, but Ezekiel did not back away. He could move him aside, he could go around him and he thought about it, but then he stood there and didn’t.

  Rainer touched his fingertips to the tops of Ezekiel’s hands lightly, like breath moving over the soft fine hairs on his skin. The tension in Ezekiel’s body was electric. His self-control was remarkable, but Rainer wanted to see it crash to pieces. A slip, just one, that was what he wanted and yes, he was baiting him and Ezekiel was valiantly resisting it, but his resolve was weakening.

  Ezekiel closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

  Rainer leaned toward him, tantalizingly close, until he knew Ezekiel could feel his breath skating over his lips. “What do you want? Don’t tell me what you’re supposed to want. What they want you to want. What do you want, Ezekiel?”

  Ezekiel opened his eyes and he moved so fast it was breathtaking. He took Rainer’s face in his hands and kissed him, crowded him back until he hit the wall of the elevator then he pressed against him. A low, soft growl rose in his throat as he licked into Rainer’s mouth. Ezekiel’s tongue was rough; it scraped over the roof of his mouth, the kiss deep, sending shocking bolts of desire through Rainer until he felt bright hot with it.

  Ezekiel’s fingers petted down his smooth, white throat and he bit his way out of the kiss. He nipped Rainer’s mouth and followed the touch of his hands with his lips down to the pulse beating rapidly under Rainer’s chin.

  “God, your tongue,” Rainer gasped. “What is that?”

&nbs
p; “It’s my tongue,” Ezekiel said, a little amused.

  “It’s like a cat’s,” Rainer said.

  “I know.”

  “Ezekiel—”

  “Hmm?”

  “Tell me.”

  “What?”

  Rainer shoved him back. Ezekiel let him, but only enough that their eyes met. “What do you want?”

  Ezekiel traced his middle finger in a line down Rainer’s throat, along the carotid artery. His blood thumped lightly against his fingertip. “I want to rip your throat out,” he whispered. He ducked his head to brush his mouth over Rainer’s. “Is that what you want me to say?”

  Rainer couldn’t help it; he smiled. “Yes, it is. Oh, yes. And what else?”

  Ezekiel kissed where he’d petted with his fingers and Rainer’s blood was right there beneath his lips. It would take almost no effort at all to sink his teeth in there and tear before Rainer could get away. Before he even knew that he should.

  “I think you know what else,” Ezekiel said.

  “I do. I want you to say it,” Rainer said. He grabbed a fistful of Ezekiel’s hair in one hand and pulled his head back a little. “Say it.”

  “I want to fuck you. Right here. Now. Wherever,” Ezekiel said. He pressed his mouth to Rainer’s neck, lips drawn back from his teeth with a soft growl.

  Rainer still wasn’t satisfied. “And what else?”

  Ezekiel picked his head up. “What?”

  Rainer let his touch become gentle and stroked his fingers through Ezekiel’s jet black hair. “What else? Tell me.”

  “I want to kill.”

  Rainer nodded. “I know,” he said. He kissed him again quickly on the mouth. “You would be beautiful, as I’ve told you.”

  He considered giving in to what they had been doing, yielding to his own desires and pushing Ezekiel to do the same. Ezekiel might follow through with it. He wanted to and they were right there and so close. Ezekiel’s body was solid and warm against him, his hands were on him and he had no reason left to deny it because Rainer knew everything he wanted.

  But if it happened this way, that would be it and Rainer would be a mistake Ezekiel had made one night at a party while drunk and high on cocaine. Ezekiel would go back to his life as Special Agent Ezekiel Herod of the FBI and Rainer wouldn’t have him, not like he wanted. Rainer was not in the habit of denying himself what he wanted, but in this case, what he wanted clashed with the instinct to take it now and not think about the consequences. He wouldn’t keep him if he did that and he wanted to, at least for a little while. As he’d told Ezekiel; he was just too much fun. Rainer wasn’t done playing with him yet.

 

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