Master of Obsidian

by Jamie Craig

  “That wasn’t sex.” He stabbed his legs into his pants, jerking them up around his hips. “That was me taking advantage of you for my own gratification.”

  A shadow passed over Jesse’s eyes. “You weren’t taking advantage of me, Gideon. I can see why you’d think that, since you’re stronger than me, but you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

  Somehow, hearing that only made feel Gideon worse. As unleashed as he’d been in the alley, it wasn’t that far off from how he knew he could get in sexual encounters. He liked being in control, he got off knowing he was the one in charge. And he knew many of his observations about Jess had been accurate. He would have to be blind not to see how Jesse looked at him when he thought Gideon wouldn’t notice, and having enhanced senses weren’t necessary to see the erections Jess commonly sported. Jess wanted it, all right, but only because he’d been attracted to Gideon for months.

  That wasn’t good enough for Gideon.

  “Look,” he tried again. He felt a little braver with his cock covered, though the way Jesse’s gaze kept straying, he knew his arousal was still far too evident. “Last night shouldn’t have happened. Maybe you did want me to…do what I did, but I know and you know that’s only because there’s this physical attraction between us. And I’m not going to fuck up our friendship by turning you into my sex slave, there to satisfy my every whim. You deserve better than that, Jess.”

  Gideon watched the wheels spinning in Jesse’s head. For a moment, Gideon thought Jess planned to argue with him, but that moment passed. “I see,” Jesse said stiffly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You’re right, of course. Our friendship is more important. Not to mention our professional relationship.”

  He exhaled in relief. “Exactly.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, really, how much work are we going to get done if you spend all your time on your knees?”

  “We’d have to learn how to multi-task, and I know how much you hate that,” Jesse said, pushing the sheets aside shamelessly.

  Gideon’s eyes widened. Jesse had more than a few teeth marks marring his body. He looked like…well, he looked like somebody who had spent all night in bed with a vampire. A vampire who wasn’t terribly concerned if his bedmate was entirely conscious.

  “Gideon? I’d like to take a shower, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “You can borrow something of mine,” he replied automatically. “But maybe you should spend today in bed. You had a…rough night.”

  Jesse rubbed his cheek. “I’d like to wash up a bit, at least.”

  His gaze was fixed on the spot Jess was worrying with his fingertips. It was already going rough with stubble, but through the dark hairs, Gideon noticed the tiny flecks of dried come clinging to his skin. His mouth watered.

  “Stay there.”

  The only thing disappearing to the kitchen did was make the scent less prevalent. As Gideon filled a basin with steaming hot water, he bowed his head, trying to banish every thought of how Jess had tasted, how Jess had writhed, how Jess had begged Gideon to let him come in the wee hours of the morning when not even the stars were out to play. By the time he returned to the bedroom, all he’d accomplished was thickening his layers of guilt.

  Jess should have better, but it had been so long since Gideon had had somebody in his life he could call his best friend, he had forgotten there were certain lines not to be crossed if one didn’t want to lose said best friend.

  And Gideon couldn’t lose Jesse. He needed the man far too much for that.

  Jesse sat patiently while Gideon set about the task of bathing him. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t any different than the simple first aid tasks Jesse performed on a nearly nightly basis, but it was different. For starters, there was the unmistakably fresh smell of Jesse’s arousal. And despite the multiple bite wounds, there wasn’t a single drop of blood on Jesse’s skin. Gideon had seen to that before they both passed out in exhaustion.

  “Gideon, I know you’re going to be wrapped up in your guilt for quite some time, but I wish you wouldn’t. I don’t regret last night. I’m not sorry it happened. If you don’t want it to happen again, I understand. But don’t…brood over it.”

  Gideon frowned, ducking his head to avoid Jesse’s steady gaze. “I’m not brooding.”

  “Maybe not right this second, but you’re close. And I’m sure when you’re finished here, you’ll go upstairs to the office, turn off the light, pull the shades, and mull over every single detail.”

  Sometimes he hated how well Jesse knew him.

  “I’m going to pull the fucking shades because it’s the middle of the day. And I’m not going to mull.” At least, he was going to do his damnedest not to. “I’m going to find out what the hell happened to me last night before it happens again and I turn you into a chew toy.”

  Jesse looked pointedly at his chest. “I think it might be a little late for that, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He lifted his chin, exposing his neck, making himself vulnerable. “Be sure to get under my chin, too. I feel a little…itchy.”

  Gideon’s fingers tightened around the washcloth. Taking Jesse’s chin in hand, he tilted the other man’s head to the side to avoid his eyes before setting the damp cloth to his skin. Both of them knew there wasn’t anything there, but Gideon’s first mark, the one he’d felt searing all the way to his toes, the one he’d had to struggle to pull away from because Jesse’s blood had been so fucking succulent, lay within two inches of where Gideon washed, begging him to return and take a taste.

  “You need somebody who’s not going to hurt you,” he heard himself saying.

  “Some things hurt more than others, Gideon.”

  There was nothing to say to that. Jesse’s desire was unmistakable. But Gideon’s resolve was stronger.

  Dropping the cloth back into the basin, Gideon rose from the bed and crossed to his wardrobe. “I’ll leave my cell phone on the nightstand for you,” he said. He began pulling out clothes he thought might fit Jess, heedless of the color or match. They were about the same height, but his broader frame meant most of his shirts would hang on Jesse’s leaner form. “If you need anything, you call me, all right?”

  “I was doing some research last night before we went out. If you could bring me my books? They’re upstairs. Oh, and maybe you should write down what happened last night?” Jesse frowned and shook his head. “I mean, what happened to you when we were separated. Maybe you unknowingly ran into the creature we’re looking for.”

  “Books. Check. But I can tell you what creatures I ran into. None. I thought I heard something in that warehouse, so I ducked inside to check it out. Came out on the roof, jumped down into the alley, and…” His voice trailed off. They both knew very well what happened next.

  Jesse nodded. “Right. Well, maybe we can investigate the warehouse again later.”

  The last thing Gideon wanted was for Jess to be anywhere near the warehouse. “I’ll check with Richards to see if the location means anything to him. He’s the one who pointed us to that neighborhood in the first place. Maybe there’s a link between what happened to me and what happened to his son.”

  “What did happen to you, Gideon? I mean…I know what happened, but what did it feel like? Was it your demon? Was it something else?”

  It would be nice to be able to blame his actions on the fact that he was a vampire. It would be a lot easier to look Jesse in the eye if Gideon could say, “Yeah, that damn demon. It’s all his fault.” But it would be a lie, and for as much damage as Gideon was sure he’d already done to their friendship, the last thing he needed was to add dishonesty to the list of his crimes.

  “That was all me,” he conceded. He stuck his nose in his wardrobe to look for a shirt for himself, unable to meet Jesse’s inquisitive gaze. “I just…didn’t care about consequences. I knew what I wanted and I was going to take it.” The rest of it came out in a rush. “And being in charge makes it hotter.”

  �
��I figured it was probably all you,” Jesse said softly. “I doubt your demon would have let me crawl away from a meeting like that. Although, I do hope you don’t truly believe that I made it through school on my knees. Because I didn’t.”

  “No, no, of course not. You’re too smart for that.” Curiosity got the better of him. “But last night wasn’t the first time you’ve given a blow job. At least, if it was, you’re not only smart, but the fastest study I’ve ever known.” Or a born natural, he thought, but kept it to himself.

  “No, it wasn’t my first time,” Jesse said mildly. “You’re not the first man I…” He almost visibly called back his words, substituting them with, “have been physically attracted to.”

  He had to know. “Please tell me it wasn’t your first time getting fucked, either. Because if I thought that was all you had to base the experience on…”

  “You’d what? Take it back? Give me something else to compare it to?”

  His cock jumped at the thought of fucking Jess properly. On his back, on his bed, maybe spreadeagle and cuffed and taking the time to pound into his ass for hours…

  Gideon swallowed against the wave of lust. “I’d never forgive myself,” he ground out.

  “Oh, well. Don’t let it keep you up at night. It wasn’t my first time for that, either.”

  It was a small relief, but not nearly enough to alleviate his mood. Slipping his shirt on over his head, Gideon removed his cell phone from his pants pocket and set it on the nightstand, before hurrying to the door.

  “I’ll bring those books right down,” he said.

  He was out the door before Jess could respond. The first thing he was going to do when he got to his desk was jerk off. Maybe then he’d be able to concentrate enough to figure out what had happened to him.

  Chapter 3

  When Jesse appeared at the office door, dressed and pale, Gideon expected the worst. It would be like Jess to want to sit and dissect the night’s events, down to the last minute, in order to analyze what had exactly happened. And if he pushed the topic, Gideon would have no choice but to comply. There was a reason Jess was the brains behind the operation, and in the end, they still had a case to fathom out.

  It was with more than a hint of relief, then, when Jesse announced he was feeling better and going home. Gideon waved him off with warnings to take it easy, to take the next day off, and to call if he needed anything, all without rising from his seat behind the desk. Standing was a very bad idea. In spite of jerking off earlier, his cock had gotten hard the instant the scent of Jesse’s blood hit his nose.

  Without the distraction of knowing Jesse was within walking distance, it was easier to concentrate on the task at hand. The facts they had on the case were few, but the events at the warehouse cast a new light on them, a very dark and sinister light. Toby Richards wasn’t a demon—as far as Gideon knew—but if he’d gone into the warehouse as well, perhaps some metamorphosis had transpired, something that had led to his death.

  The smart thing would be to go back and check it out. All he had were impressions from his few minutes inside, and none of it was nearly concrete enough for him to give Jesse to research. There were no creatures to locate, no mysterious objects to identify. Going back by the light of day could provide better evidence about what had drawn Gideon inside.

  Except he couldn’t go during the day. And the last thing he wanted was for Jesse to investigate alone. And he still had another three hours until sundown.

  Gideon leaned back in his chair, his thoughts back on the man who’d spent the night in his bed. Jess wasn’t sorry. Jess had seemed ready to pursue even more. Jess would probably have been attached to Gideon’s dick in some way or another if he’d been the one to wake up first, and Gideon wouldn’t have been able to stop him. Wouldn’t have wanted to stop him.

  He’d known about the attraction for a long time, maybe from the moment they’d met. In the beginning, before he’d come to know the man, Gideon had used it to his advantage, getting Jess to work for free with the occasional sly glance or casual flirtatious remark. But as soon as a real friendship had started to form, Gideon had stopped. It was easy to find a sexual partner any time he wanted; friends, on the other hand, were a rare and precious commodity. He’d stifled any attraction he might have for Jess, and he’d hoped Jesse had done the same, suppressing it in favor of a more meaningful relationship.

  Apparently, he’d been biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity. The one Gideon had dropped into when he’d leapt back into the alley.

  For a brief moment, Gideon considered it. His actions with Jess weren’t out of character, just not the character he tried to present to the outside world, and certainly not the one he’d presented to his best friend. He liked his partners pliant and pleading; the more they begged, the harder Gideon got. But he didn’t want to see Jess plead. He liked the man who shared his office; he respected him for his intelligence and his dry humor and the way he was willing to do whatever it took to get a job done. He honestly didn’t know how Jess expected the two versions of himself to reconcile, and given the choice, there was no doubt which Gideon preferred.

  Jess was his best friend. Gideon was going to make sure it stayed like that.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. Nobody would blame him if he called it a day and went back to bed, but Gideon knew doing so would invite dreams he couldn’t control. They would be dark and vivid, with Jesse in a starring role, and considering his shame regarding his actions, Gideon wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t be him taking the sexual assault this time instead of Jess. Better to stay busy, which meant finding a new angle on the Toby Richards case to follow.

  It all came back to the warehouse. Had Councilman Richards been aware of its significance and steered them in its general direction to deflect any suspicion? When Gideon had called earlier to speak with him, he hadn’t been available. Perhaps it was time for another face-to-face meeting. He’d get answers and be in a better position to judge how honest the councilman was being with them.

  Grabbing his coat and keys, Gideon took the stairs down to the underground parking structure where his car was. Except for a sliver on the windshield, the windows were painted black on his ‘73 Berlinetta Boxer in order to block out lethal rays of sunlight—a precaution he hated because it spoiled the car’s sleek lines—but he’d owned his baby since Ferrari had first made it publicly available. Nostalgia and a sense of masculine pride refused him the right to trade it in for something that wasn’t as flashy. He argued it away by saying that as long as the car was functional, there was no reason to replace it.

  He was smiling when he hit the street. She cornered like a dream, too. Getting behind the wheel always sent a thrill of power through his veins.

  He realized when he hit the traffic downtown that he’d timed it poorly. Rush hour was starting, and Gideon got stuck more than once as the streets clogged with commuters. It left him tapping at the steering wheel, trying his best to ignore the rising heat inside the vehicle. The raised temperature exacerbated the scent of Jesse’s blood and come that clung to the passenger seat. Couldn’t he go anywhere without being reminded of what had happened?

  His nerves were completely frayed by the time he pulled into the dark parking structure next to the councilmen offices. Gideon was eager to escape the car and the ghosts of what he’d done the night before.

  He went up the back stairs, climbing them two at a time. Gideon passed the occasional employee on the way out, obviously opting for a pseudo-cardio routine by taking the stairs instead of the elevator, but otherwise, nobody gave him a second glance. By the time he reached the fourteenth floor, the building was nearly silent around him, and he let himself into the councilman’s office unseen.

  Councilman Lucas Richards sat at his oversized mahogany desk, his feet propped up on the corner as he looked over a file resting in his lap. For a man in his sixties, he was remarkably trim, his hair only starting to salt-and-pepper, and the stretch of his lean body made him loo
k taller than his normal five-seven. He looked very much like he had when Gideon had first met him thirty years earlier, all the way down to the posturing to make himself seem larger than he really was. Gideon often had the urge to explain to the man that power had nothing to do with how big you were, but held his tongue. It was too amusing to watch Lucas try to be something he wasn’t.

  “One of these days, you’re going to learn to knock,” Lucas said without looking up.

  “You like me better when I don’t.” Gideon stood on the other side of the desk, his unsmiling eyes fixed on Richards. “We need to talk.”

  “I got that impression from your four messages.”

  “And yet, you seem more interested in pretending to be busy than in finding out what I might have learned about Toby’s death. Interesting.”

  Mentioning Toby finally tore Lucas’ gaze away from the folder, and he lifted a pale gray gaze to Gideon. “Did you find the killer?”

  “If that was the case, you’d be talking to a cop right now.”

  His denial made Lucas sag back against his leather chair. “Then why are you bothering me, Gideon? This isn’t your playground. Go bully somebody else.”

  Coming around the edge of the desk, Gideon perched on its corner, pushing aside Richards’ resting feet with his hip. “You brought me in to do a job,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you dictate how I get it done.”

  “You’ve been on this for a week without anything new. I’m beginning to wonder if I wasn’t wasting my time, coming to you.”

  When Lucas tried turning his attention back to the file, Gideon ripped it out of his hand, tossing it to the other side of the room and out of his reach. “We’re talking,” he said, his voice low and clipped. “That means you listen. And then you tell me what I need to know, or I rip your throat out. Just because I can.”

  In spite of the threat, there was no apprehension in Lucas’ gaze, no fear seeping from his pores. “I know you too well to believe that,” he replied. “Your commitment to this town goes back to my grandfather’s days, so trying to scare me by reminding me you’re a vampire won’t work. But, obviously, something has you hot under the collar, so go ahead. I’m listening.”