by Lia Black
“Clan can’t drink that much unprocessed blood. Despite human lore, taking from just one source can be toxic; the concentration of platelets is—” Kayle stopped in mid-sentence, pausing a moment before continuing down another path. “Your co-worker, Peterson. How long have you known him?” Kayle asked the question very casually, which meant to Derek that it wasn’t so casual at all.
“Long enough to know he’s not a murder suspect.” Derek said. Irritation’s spiky claws were starting up the back of his neck. “That’s where this is going, right?”
“Well he is always the first one at the scene.”
“That’s his job. He gets there and locks everything down to keep evidence from getting tampered with.”
“You have to admit, as far as tampering with evidence is concerned, that would be the job to have.”
Derek was getting defensive. He considered Peterson a friend.
“I’m not going there with you. Peterson is a good cop—a good man.”
“Many of your history’s most brutal serial killers were upstanding citizens. Some even gave to charity.”
“Peterson is the first official at the scene; there are always lower-ranking uniformed officers who can get there before him to help keep things secure.” Back in your face, Apex.
“Tell me, how does he find out about these crime scenes?”
“Through a police call box.” Because so few people had phones—just businesses with their land-lines and cops with their cells— there were emergency switch-boxes installed all around the city. All someone had to do was flip a lever and it would immediately alert the police, who were always the first on scene and could contact fire or medical responders as the situation required. The consequence was, however, the anonymity of it. Whoever flipped the lever could have valuable witness information, and if they didn’t hang around, it would likely be lost. It was a trade-off; more crimes got reported, but fewer of them got solved.
“Look, Peterson is not a suspect,” Derek said definitively.
“Everyone’s a suspect,” Kayle retorted.
Derek fought back what would’ve ended up as a belligerent rebuttal.
“Even the city director?” he asked instead. Dr. Ray would accuse him of letting his prejudice rule over his logic, and maybe she was right. But Derek knew it through to his bones that somehow Variants were involved, even if they were just masterminding the whole thing.
“That’s ridiculous. He has no time and there is no value in killing humans.”
“Maybe he has somebody do it for him so he can have a steady supply of blood.”
Kayle let out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes. “We’ve discussed this—or have you forgotten already?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten, but maybe you’ve forgotten that the victims were all human and all drained of blood. Only the Clan needs blood to survive, and they are always getting shipments from the ‘donation clinics’ here. What’s to stop them from getting an extra supply and blending it down themselves?”
Kayle stared at him for several moments, his features exposing nothing. Finally, he looked away. “All right. I’ll give you that one.”
“Whoa, wait— did you just agree with me?”
“I did no such thing. You may have a reasonable point, but that is far from being correct. How are we handling the shower?”
Derek stumbled over the wreckage Kayle had left behind from switching topics so suddenly. “Uh, the what?”
“Shower. That thing in your bathroom. Looks like rain; makes you clean?” Kayle held up a hand, bent at the wrist, fingers wiggling loosely to suggest sprinkling.
Derek pushed forward from the counter, turning around to see what he could scrounge from the fridge for dinner. He was battling between finding Kayle’s condescension entertaining, or enraging. “Why did you change subjects so suddenly?”
“Because I want a shower and was tired of explaining things to you. It’s obviously not Clan committing these murders.”
Suddenly Derek wasn’t so hungry. “I told you—water is rationed. You want a shower, you’ll have to take one with me.” He tried to wrestle the discussion back to where it had started as he stalked towards the bathroom. “A human murderer wouldn’t be so arrogant about killing that they would take the time to pose the body.“
“I beg to differ. Perhaps the killer feels he is making a statement. Besides, what purpose could those kinds of theatrics serve the Clan?”
“It’s Clan reminding humans that they are in charge and there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it!” Derek yelled over his shoulder, his temper rising and nerves getting raw with each scrape of Kayle’s argument.
Kayle did have some reasonable points, but Derek also suspected he was as invested in proving the killer wasn’t a Variant, as Derek wanted to prove that he was. But there was also the frustration that Derek was feeling about not having solved this by now. When he and Marc were working cases together, everything fit together like a neat little puzzle. Cases were solved in days, not weeks or months. It made Derek question his own value to the department and to the victims. Then there was the current disruption of his routine. Never in a million years would he have believed he’d be sharing his house—his freaking shower—with a Variant, and an incubus at that.
“It’s human arrogance to think that the clans would leave Apex to kill one person as a message to the rest of you.” Kayle said it as though it was complete fact, and that irked Derek, more than it should have.
“They don’t need to leave Apex— there are Clan running our city. Hurry up if you want a shower or you’re not getting one!” Derek hadn’t meant to say the last bit so harshly, but Kayle’s refusal to accept what Derek believed was blatantly obvious was seriously pissing him off. What he didn’t know was if it was because he knew Kayle was wrong, or feared that he wasn’t.
Kayle came into the bathroom behind him. His pants were off and he was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only boxers and his tank-top as he pulled off his socks. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his eyes had gone full-on incubus.
“Clan is running everything because when we gave humans the chance for autonomy, you nearly destroyed us all with your ungrateful arrogance and foolish greed!”
Oh, he was angry; and damned if he wasn’t the sexiest thing Derek had ever seen. Derek’s arousal made him angrier, which put him into a tailspin of conflicting passions. He knew he was just arguing for the sake of watching passion create heat through Kayle’s gaze, while Derek tried to suppress his desire by burying it with anger.
“If you Variants are so much fucking wiser than us, then why would you keep giving us the means to destroy? You saw the wars, yet you let us keep on killing, poisoning the planet, and over-populating. I think the Clan realized humans were getting too strong and instead of intervening, those lazy Gentry asses in Apex sat around, waiting for us to kill each other.” Derek ignored the slap of his cock against his belly when he pulled off his underwear and turned on the water.
“They’d hoped your mistakes would make you wiser,” Kayle said. “Obviously, they were wrong.”
Derek heard the whisper of fabric hitting the floor tiles as the remainder of Kayle’s clothing came off. His dick was beginning to throb almost painfully, as he got into the shower and scrubbed shampoo roughly into his hair. He didn’t bother to hide his erection by facing the wall. Kayle knew what he was doing—trying to muddy his mind by ejecting pheromones into the air. That had to be it. There was no other reason for him to be getting this turned on. Great. Well, he’d have to wash first then jerk off. It was Kayle’s fault; let him suffer the fact that Derek was washing his dinner down the drain.
“Will you quit with the pheromones already? Just admit you’re wrong about the murders.”
“I am not wrong! And I’m not releasing any pheromones!”
“Really? Then why am I so hard I can’t think straight to argue?” He finished rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and opened his eyes. Kayle was standing alm
ost in front of him, his skin shining under the spray of water, his normally perfect hair damp and falling in clumps of silvery waves down his chest. His skin was still flushed pink, and his cock was jutting out just as much as Derek’s. “Better question is, why are you so hard?”
Kayle’s jaw tensed and he made to turn his back on Derek but Derek grabbed his arm. Before his brain had a chance to catch up and tell him how wrong this was, he had pushed Kayle up against the wall of the narrow cubicle and was plundering his mouth with kisses. He expected Kayle to push him away, but after his initial surprise, Derek felt Kayle kissing him in return. His flavor was sweet and sharp, a little like oranges and pepper, yet different in every place that Derek pushed his tongue. His mouth was so warm; not searing, but inviting. Derek wanted to get inside his heat, surround himself with it until he was consumed. Oh right, he had been.
Shit. This was bad. This was the worst possible thing he could have done, because the more he kissed Kayle, the more he wanted to keep kissing him, and the longer he kissed him, the more turned on he got. It was like a drug, and it probably stood to reason that a sex demon’s body fluids behaved like an aphrodisiac. But then why was Kayle kissing him back? Somewhere behind the combating shouts of protest and encouragement in his brain, Derek found the voice of necessity. He turned them around so that now Kayle was beneath the spray so that he could at least get a rinse before the ten-minute timer counted down and the water shut off. He used his hands to wash Kayle, slicking them over smooth, wet skin; feeling the soft flesh over solid muscle and bone. Their cocks pressed together between them, and Derek could swear he felt Kayle’s pulse beating, erratically, along his shaft. Kayle’s temperature was rising, becoming almost feverish...
When the timer dinged and the water receded to a trickle, Derek finally gained enough control to break the kiss. Something wasn’t right. He met Kayle’s incubus eyes, heavy-lidded, and looking about as drugged out as Derek felt. Derek understood that by not saying anything, not uttering any sound, they would fuck tonight, and it would be incredible. But neither one of them was in their right minds. Derek may have been driven by passion, but Kayle seemed to be responding to something else.
“We can’t do this,” Derek was trying to convince himself as much as Kayle, but his libido had no idea why. Maybe it was some miserable stab at professionalism. Maybe he was afraid of getting so close to anybody again, knowing that—one way or another— he would lose him. They were different species, from completely different worlds.
The one thing he knew, however, was that Kayle’s mind was not fully present. His body seemed to be making decisions without him, and if that was the case, Derek would be taking unfair advantage of him because of what he was. He’d promised himself: no more empty sex. A blowjob for necessity was one thing and only one time.
Kayle’s head dropped forward, his upper body pulling back enough to keep it from landing on Derek’s shoulder. Instinctively, Derek caught his upper arms to steady him. Kayle took a few deep breaths and bobbed his head, nodding as though there was a string attached.
The edge of Derek’s stomach curled in on itself and he compressed his lips. He understood; he was doing the right thing, and sometimes the right thing didn’t feel as good as the other thing would have. He reached over and grabbed a towel from the bar, wrapping it over Kayle’s shoulders. Turning his back to him, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his own towel, heading out of the bathroom to dry off, and sort everything out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kayle sat on the sofa wearing Derek’s loose clothing with his knees drawn up and chewing on the nail of his little finger as though he were a kid. He wedged the sharp edge of it between his teeth, into his gums, enjoying the sting and the slight relief it brought from the slurry of emotions congealing in his brain. Shame and frustration rose to the top of the oily mix, and he paid the most attention to these feelings, not ready to stir around and see what else was there. Derek was banging around the kitchen just as he always did, and for once, Kayle was grateful for the noise. It kept anything Derek said short and loud so he could be heard over the clanking of pots and rattling of silverware as he pulled it out of the drawer.
“…anything?”
“What?” Kayle only realized that Derek was talking to him when he was nearly done.
“I said, can I get you anything? Food? Do you eat food?”
He wasn’t being condescending, and thankfully, he wasn’t being overly sensitive, either. He was being Derek and taking it all in stride. The fact that Kayle recognized this about him just added to the disappointment he felt in himself. He’d failed. Even after being given another chance, he couldn’t even get through the same night without ruining everything. He’d let Derek kiss him, even though he knew that the exchange of heat and breath and saliva was dangerous for his kind. It lulled them, made them pliable and vulnerable. With the right person, it could be bonding, with the wrong person, it could mean death. Either way, it was the one way to enthrall his kind and take their power away, and here he’d just handed it over to Derek. Because he was lonely, because he was foolish, because he was weak.
Kayle closed his eyes, rubbing his temples as he took a deep breath. “No. I don’t need anything.” Maybe Derek didn’t notice the elephant in the room, barreling between them, knocking over everything as Derek knocked around his pans. The elephant would leave with Kayle. Maybe having such a pet would help him remember why it was better to be avoided.
The small apartment filled with the smells of something like bacon and something like eggs. Both of these items—as well as any other animal-based proteins—were in short supply and very expensive. The average human who did not own a farm was forced to make do with a far cheaper version, made from all of the things the more refined palettes wouldn’t eat.
Kayle’s gaze followed Derek as he stepped out onto the balcony that had once been part of the fire escape. It was getting dusky outside; everything appeared behind a wash of dark ink. Derek returned with some wispy green herbs that he began to chop on a board on the counter. Derek was fond of being shirtless at home, apparently. Kayle watched his muscles flex along his shoulders and back, his eyes following white lines and a few small star-burst-shaped scars.
The lands outside of the Variant city-states of Apex, the Crest, and the Ridge were dangerous. Kayle never really understood how spoiled he was for the peace he enjoyed in Apex. He also never realized that human beings were not all barbarians all the time. Some, like Derek, grew container gardens, lovingly cultivating what seemed to many to be an insignificant form of life.
Kayle made a tight fist, annoyed by his stupid, wandering thoughts. It was the remnants of the kiss—nothing more— and it had been a moment of stupidity that had allowed it to happen.
After about ten minutes of cooking, Derek came in and dropped onto the other end of the sofa with his steaming plate of food. He stared off into space for a moment, as if readying himself for the upcoming task of eating, then he took a deep breath and dove in.
“So the bed situation. I’ve been thinking; the couch is not going to be comfortable for long…”
“What makes you think I’ll be staying?” Kayle tried to sound flip, but to his own ears, it was a pathetic attempt. Derek glanced at him but Kayle refused to return the look.
“I think your only other option is going back to Apex, and I thought you’d already decided not to.”
“Well maybe I’ve changed my mind. There is nothing for me here. You won’t even listen to reason about the murders so I think it’s pointless for me to stay.”
The silence that passed between them gave the acid in Kayle’s stomach plenty of time to build up. He was being childish. Even though he knew the kiss had ground down his defenses, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d been rejected.
Derek’s metal fork clattered against the ceramic bowl he was using to eat his dinner and he took a big bite, chewing it for what seemed to be a contrived amount of time. He swallowed, and without turnin
g his head, asked, “Is this about the kiss?”
Kayle let out the breath he’d been holding. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Again, if he had just been a little more convincing, he might have fooled Derek into letting the entire subject drop.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just… I stepped over the line. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again, but I can understand why you don’t want to be around me after that.”
Derek resumed eating, the clank and scrape already too loud, but Kayle felt too numb to move to stop him. It would have been far easier to saddle Derek with the blame; to let him think he’d forced himself on Kayle and caught him by surprise, but it was only the second part of that statement that would have been true, and even then, only slightly.
“I don’t want to jeopardize our professional relationship,” Derek said. “I’ll rent a room someplace, you can stay here.”
Kayle wasn’t quite certain how to compartmentalize his emotions. He hated that being so close to humans—to Derek— had made his years of practiced dissociation fall apart so easily. He felt disappointment outweigh what may have been hope, and insecurity battling a tie with duty. Of course it was easy for Derek to reject him. To Derek, closing the case was the most important thing. It should have been that way for Kayle. That’s why he was here, after all. But he hadn’t expected to be seeing so much of Derek. It had to be the proximity that had him confused; Derek’s emotions were constantly radiating off of him and it was difficult to avoid the exposure when they were together night and day.
“Don’t be foolish. This is your home. We can take turns with the bed if you insist upon it. The shower is another matter.” Taking turns at showering was not an option. Derek barely got ten minutes of water. He’d learned how to be efficient, but breaking it down to five minutes of efficiency each was too small an increment; especially with Kayle’s thick mane of hair. Kayle started to mention that he could use the shower he’d seen at the police station when Derek was giving him his cursory tour, then thought better of why he shouldn’t. Two officers had already tried to kill him. It was unlikely they were the only ones. They, like Derek, were so convinced that the murderer was a Variant, that they wanted punishment before the trial. Humans were such slaves to their emotions sometimes. That was part of the reason Kayle was here, to make sure they didn’t put vengeance before due process under the law. Unfortunately, he was beginning to find that he wasn’t much better than they were at keeping his passions under control. “Your reaction to me is just my chemistry affecting your hindbrain. I’m sure once my supplements arrive, there will be nothing further to be concerned about.”