by Ally Blue
“No.”
“Why not?” Sam wasn’t sure the question was a good idea, but he wanted to know. He wondered if he was just being a masochist.
For a moment Bo was silent, one finger idly circling Sam’s nipple. “Do you want the truth?”
Sam frowned. “Of course I do.”
“You were angry with me. And I didn’t want you to be. When I know you’re upset with me about something, it makes me feel literally sick.” He cuddled closer, his hair tickling Sam’s skin. “What have I done, Sam?”
The undercurrent of sadness in Bo’s voice made Sam ache inside. He wound both arms around Bo and kissed the top of his head. “You haven’t done anything. It’s me. I’m tired, and it’s making me act like a prick. I’m sorry.”
Lifting a hand, Bo curled his fingers around Sam’s forearm. “You don’t need to be jealous of Bay City Paranormal, you know.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Yes, you are. And I’m telling you right now, you shouldn’t be.” Bo raised his head and tucked a hand under his chin. His face was a blur in the darkness of the room. “I’ve put a great deal of my time and energy into this business. I’m proud of it, and I love it. But I love you more.”
Sam’s throat went tight. He knew what Bo was saying, and the knowledge of what Bo was offering to sacrifice for him was humbling.
Tangling his fingers in Bo’s hair, Sam pulled him in for a soft, slow kiss. “I meant what I said before,” he whispered against Bo’s mouth. “I’d never ask you to give up the things that are important to you. I don’t want you to. Whatever makes you happy, that’s what I want.”
Sam felt Bo’s lips curve into a smile. They kissed again, then Bo settled back into Sam’s embrace. Sam lay awake for a long time, trying to convince himself that he’d told Bo the truth.
Chapter Four
When Sam woke again, it was almost nine a.m. and Bo’s side of the bed was cold. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Sam hauled himself out of bed, went to the sliding glass door and pushed the curtains the rest of the way open.
It looked like another beautiful day in the making, sunny and perfect. A single wispy cloud floated across the deep azure sky. Beyond the dunes, the Gulf glittered like a jewel against the blinding white sand. A pelican plummeted into a turquoise swell, emerging moments later with a fish clutched in its beak. The sleek silver body flashed in the sun as it struggled in the bird’s grip. The pelican swallowed its meal with a toss of its head, then rose into the air.
Sam watched the bird cut a graceful arc across the sky to the west. For some reason, the casual display of predator versus prey reminded him of the creatures from the portals. The things which could cross the boundaries between dimensions and snuff out a human life with as little effort as a man crushing a bug beneath his shoe. The thought chilled Sam to the marrow.
“No portals here,” he reminded himself. “You don’t need to worry about that right now.”
Shaking off the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Sam went over to the dresser. He took off his boxers and kicked them into the corner where his and Bo’s dirty clothes had been collecting. A moment’s digging in the middle drawer turned up a pair of black and purple board shorts he’d forgotten he’d brought. He pulled them on, then left the bedroom and followed the mouthwatering aromas of sausage and fresh-brewed coffee down the stairs.
Andre and Bo sat huddled together at the table in the breakfast nook. They seemed to be holding a whispered argument. Bo sat hunched over, his back to Sam. The muscles in his bare shoulders stood out hard and tense. Andre wore an expression of helpless frustration with which Sam was all too familiar. He’d had enough disagreements with Bo to know just how Andre felt right now.
Sam shuffled into the room, and the whispers stopped as if a switch had been flipped. He shook his head. “Don’t stop fighting on my account.”
Bo stood and snagged Sam by the waist as he passed. “Good morning, Sam,” he said, pressing close for a kiss. “I made biscuits, sausage and gravy, and I can fix you some eggs if you want.”
Sam studied Bo’s face. He was smiling, but he looked tired, and a stubborn crease marred the skin between his brows. Slipping an arm around him, Sam smoothed his thumb over Bo’s forehead. “What’s wrong, Bo?”
“He wants to come with us tonight,” Andre burst out, cutting off anything Bo might have said. Pushing his chair back, Andre rose and pointed a stern finger at Bo. “You promised you wouldn’t do this.”
“I’m not surprised. Disappointed, yeah, but not surprised. I knew he couldn’t hold out long.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Bo, who blushed and scowled at the floor. “Actually, Bo, I’m kind of surprised you lasted this long.”
Bo darted a sheepish look at him. “Okay, fine, you’re right. I can’t stop thinking about the case, and I’m dying to be a part of it.” He touched Sam’s cheek. “Come on, Sam. Can you honestly say you have no desire whatsoever to get involved?”
Sam wanted to claim he had no such wish, but he knew that would be a lie. As much as it galled him, he was itching to explore Fort Medina along with the rest of the team.
He sighed. “Dammit.”
“I knew it.” Bo’s grin threatened to split his face in half. He slung his free arm around Sam’s neck and bit his chin. “Let’s go to the fort tonight and help with the investigation. Maybe if we get it out of our systems now, we’ll be able to stay away the rest of the time. What do you think?”
“I think when you say ‘we’ what you really mean is you. I think you’re projecting your own inability to control your workaholism onto me.” Sam laid a finger across Bo’s lips to stop the protest he knew was coming. “But I also think you have a point. I am curious about the place, and I’d like to be part of the investigation, if only for one night. I could live without it, but I’m not sure I could live with you living without it.”
Bo snatched Sam’s hand away from his mouth and laced their fingers together. “Does that string of insults mean you agree with me?”
“It’s not insulting if it’s the truth,” Sam pointed out. “But yeah, I guess I sort of agree with you.”
Behind Bo, Andre picked up his coffee mug and strolled into the kitchen. “Sam, you’re as bad as he is.”
Bo let go of Sam and followed Andre into the kitchen. Sam trailed behind them.
“Is it all right if we come, Andre?” Bo opened the cabinet beside the refrigerator and handed Sam a blue mug with cartoon dolphins capering across it. “You’re the group leader on this case, so it’s your call.”
Andre laughed. “You know as well as I do that you wouldn’t stay away if I asked you to. You’d play the ‘boss’ card.”
Sam snickered as he poured coffee into his mug. “He’s got you figured out, Bo.”
Bo glared at him. “I would not do any such thing. If Andre would rather not have us on the team, we’ll stay here.”
“And put up with the tension and fighting from you being forced to stay here and be good? No thanks.” Andre held out his mug for Sam to refill. “Seriously, I don’t mind at all if y’all come with us, and I’m sure the rest of the team feels the same. The more the merrier.”
Bo’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Thank you, Andre.”
Sam stirred caramel-flavored creamer into his coffee, set the mug on the counter and took the clean plate Bo had left beside the stove. “What time do we start tonight?” he asked, piling his plate with biscuits and sausage and spooning gravy over it all.
“Eight-thirty. That’s the earliest we can set up and get started after they close for the day.” Andre held a hand out. “Will you hand me a piece of sausage?”
Grabbing a crisp brown patty off the platter, Sam laid it in Andre’s palm. “How many nights is the investigation going to run? Or is that worked out yet?” He picked up his laden plate and started wolfing down his breakfast.
“We’ve arranged five nights at the fort, six hours each night including set-up and take-down.” Andre bit into his sausage, chewed and swallowed
. “I doubt we would’ve done any more than that even if Joanne had been able to be there any longer, which she couldn’t. This is a relatively simple case. Five nights ought to give us plenty to work with.”
Bo nodded, winding the tail of his braid around one hand. “So, y’all didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary there?”
“Since when are residual hauntings and apparitions ordinary?” Sam asked with his mouth full.
Chuckling, Andre hooked his fingers through the handle of his coffee mug. “I guess they’re only ordinary to professional paranormal investigators. But I believe I know what Bo means. Come on, let’s go sit down.” He strolled out of the kitchen and into the breakfast nook without waiting for an answer.
Bo went first. Sam followed, watching the hypnotic glide of Bo’s walk, the flex of firm buttocks and long legs barely hidden by the clinging red swim trunks he wore. Sliding into the chair beside Bo’s, Sam set his plate and mug on the table, reached over and squeezed Bo’s thigh. Bo shot him a wicked grin in return, the sight causing a familiar clutching heat in Sam’s gut.
“To answer your question,” Andre said, sitting across the table and leaning his elbows on it, “no, Cecile and I didn’t sense anything other than the general feeling of age and death that we get in any place with a history as long and bloody as the fort’s. There was no sense of anything intelligent or in any way malicious.” He turned a solemn look to Sam. “We didn’t sense the sort of energy we’ve come to associate with portals.”
A vague tension Sam hadn’t realized he’d been carrying eased from his body. “Good. I really don’t feel like dealing with any more of those right now.” He traced the thin line of the scar on Bo’s thigh with his thumb.
Bo’s hand covered Sam’s. “What about the EMF levels?”
Andre shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “It was high. Four point three to four point seven, on average, though it varied from spot to spot.”
Sam’s stomach knotted. Every portal they’d dealt with so far had been associated with high natural electromagnetic field levels. In fact, most had opened in the presence of EMF significantly weaker than this one.
Turning Sam’s hand over, Bo wove his fingers through Sam’s. “But you didn’t sense anything that would indicate portal activity.”
Andre shook his head. “Definitely not.”
Glancing at Sam, Bo squeezed his hand. “It’ll be okay, Sam.”
God, I hope so. “Promise me you’ll tell us right away if your leg bothers you even a little.”
“I promise.” Bo bumped Sam’s shoulder with his. “Don’t worry, okay? Lots of places have a strong electromagnetic field. That alone doesn’t mean there’s any potential for a portal to form.”
It was true. Although every portal they’d encountered had been in an area of high EMF levels, they didn’t have nearly enough evidence to conclude that elevated EMF alone could create the potential for a portal. They’d only dealt with three of the interdimensional gateways, and one had already been permanently closed when they found it. That wasn’t enough data upon which to base any conclusions, or even any solid theories. All they had so far was speculation, and Sam refused to let mere speculation worry him.
He forced a smile. “You’re right. Plus, if there was a portal there, or ever had been, I’m sure Andre and Cecile would’ve picked up on it.”
“Yeah, we would have.” Lifting his mug, Andre took a long swallow of coffee. “Well. I don’t know about you two, but I could use a little time on the beach before we start slogging through all the tapes and stuff from last night. Anyone up for a swim?”
“Me!” Dean bounded out of the hallway leading to the bedrooms and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Food first, though. I smell Bo’s cooking.”
Spearing a chunk of sausage on his fork, Sam quirked an eyebrow at Dean across the counter. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Get what?” Dean grabbed a plate out of the cabinet and started piling it with food. “Oh wait, you mean this?” He pointed the spoon at a fading purplish mark on his collarbone, splattering himself with gravy in the process. He snatched the hand towel off the oven door handle and swabbed his chest clean. “I got it from Suzanne, last weekend. She’s a good lay, but a little too rough. You should see the bite mark she left on my ass.”
“Actually, I was talking about that tiny piece of fabric you’re almost wearing,” Sam clarified, raising his voice over Andre and Bo’s laughter. “And I did see the bite mark. We all did, since your butt’s hanging out of that thing.”
“This thing is called a thong.” Plate in one hand and a steaming coffee mug in the other, Dean sauntered into the breakfast nook. He set the dishes on the table and shimmied his hips. “Sexy, huh?”
Sam eyed the emerald green triangle barely covering Dean’s privates. “Yeah. Although, I’m not sure who you’re being sexy for.”
With a shrug, Dean plopped into the chair beside Sam and tucked into his breakfast. “Hey, you never know who you might meet on the beach.”
“One of those college boys staying next door, maybe?” Bo asked, looking amused.
An evil grin curved Dean’s mouth. “Maybe.”
“What if they’re straight?” Sam picked up the last biscuit on his plate and bit off half of it.
Dean smirked over the rim of his coffee mug. “Nobody’s that straight.”
“You really need to work on your self-esteem problem, Dean.” Draining his cup, Andre pushed his chair back and stood. “Okay, I’m going to go get changed. Into something more substantial than what some people are wearing, you’ll all be glad to know.”
“You just wish you had the balls to show off that fine bod in something like this,” Dean declared, pointing his fork at Andre. “You’d look way too hot.”
Andre patted Dean’s tousled hair as he passed. “You know what, the thought of you staring at my ass all day and thinking it’s hot is enough to keep me out of thongs forever.”
Dean stuck his tongue out at Andre’s retreating back, then turned his attention back to his plateful of food. “So. Y’all talked yourselves into coming to the fort with us yet?” He forked up a huge mouthful of gravy-covered biscuit and shoved it into his mouth.
“We did, actually,” Bo answered, darting a surprised look at Sam. “Just now.”
“You mean you did.” Sam gestured at Bo with his half-empty mug. “I’m just going along with it to keep you happy.”
Dean swallowed his mouthful and licked a stray drop of gravy from the corner of his mouth. “Oh please, Sam. You know damn well you wanted to come.” He grinned, gray green eyes sparkling. “To the fort, I mean.”
Groaning, Bo rubbed a hand over his eyes. “And on that note, I’m going to head on down to the beach.”
“We’ll be out in a few minutes.” Sam gulped the rest of his coffee while Bo shoved his chair back and stood. “Where’s the sunblock? Do I need to run upstairs and get it?”
“No, it’s still out on the porch.” Bo leaned over to kiss Sam. His braid fell forward, tickling Sam’s chest. “Our towels are out there too.” He straightened up. “Dean, there’re several clean beach towels in the laundry room, if y’all need them.”
“Cool, thanks.” Lifting his mug, Dean blew on the coffee and took a sip. His gaze followed Bo out the French doors and onto the porch. “How big a fight was it?”
“Not that big, really. You were right about me wanting to go to the fort. That makes it kind of hard for me to yell at him about it.” Sam stared out the window, hands folded on the table. “I won’t lie to you, I was upset at first about y’all coming to stay here. This was supposed to be our time, you know? Just Bo and me. No work, no kids, nothing to do but just be together.”
Putting his fork down, Dean laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
Sam gave him a fond smile. “It’s okay. Like I told Bo, I realized he was right to invite you. It didn’t make sense for y’all to drive back and forth every night or spend money on a hotel w
hen you could stay here. And Bo and I can still have our time together. We’re hoping going on the case tonight’ll get the urge to explore out of our systems.”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, Sam. Knowing the two of you, I think it’ll just make it worse.”
Sam didn’t answer, and was glad Dean didn’t push the issue. He had a sneaking suspicion his friend was right.
***
At nine-thirty that night, the group stood in a huddle beneath the arch of the short tunnel forming the entrance to Fort Medina. They’d set up cameras in strategic locations throughout the fort—with the help of what seemed like miles of extension cords—and were preparing to begin the night’s investigation.
Sam gazed around at the fort’s moonlit center pentangle and the high brick walls surrounding it. His stomach churned with a mixture of sadness and excitement. The fact that he and Bo had ended up here after all hurt, because it meant being with Sam hadn’t been enough to keep Bo away. On the other hand, this place pulsed with the palpable energy of the centuries. The need to dive headfirst into it, to see and hear and learn, itched along Sam’s palms.
Bo’s hand closed around his arm, breaking his thoughts. He turned to meet Bo’s smiling face. The childlike gleam in those brown eyes made Sam’s heart lurch.
We both want to be here. Stop worrying. Sam returned Bo’s smile. For a moment, the familiar thrill of a new case reverberated between them. It felt good.
“Okay, people. Equipment check.” Andre pointed his pencil at Dean. “Thermal?”
“Got it.” Dean patted the canvas bag hanging from his right shoulder. “I have extra batteries for all the gadgets in here too.”
“Excellent.” Tapping the pencil on his clipboard, Andre turned his attention to David. “Video?”
David saluted. “Video cameras ready for action, substitute boss-man.”
“EMF and audio recorders are ready too.” Cecile looked up from the powerful laptop they’d set up on a long table Joanne Biggers had provided for them. “All the stationary cameras are showing nice, clear pictures.”