“I love you,” Chaz said. “I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
“So don’t,” Sully said. “Because I love you too.”
Chapter 42
“MICHAEL SULLIVAN! What have I told you about destroying rooms?”
Artie’s eyes widened when she saw the damage to Sully’s floor. The police carting off her bedsheets as evidence and stamping all over her front hall carpet was another matter. She would be mad about tonight for a long, long time. When Sully managed to tell her some long-winded story about anger and translation, she rolled her eyes and seemed calmer.
“I’ll call Hestia. Maybe I can get a contractor in to fix this.”
Artie continued to mutter to herself as she slipped behind the front desk to use the phone. Imogen managed to divert attention away from Artie as she organized the cleanup. She also answered most of the police questions about Declan’s motivations and past, because nothing in the house would get fixed until that whole business was complete.
“I don’t know what else they need,” Chaz said, annoyed. “Sully basically heard a confession.”
“But he’s dead now and that may not stand up in court,” Imogen warned. “It’s hard to know how this system will go.”
“But we have some pretty irrefutable evidence. Blood doesn’t really lie.”
“I know, I know. But we still have a lot to do.” Imogen looked harried after all the commotion, but she was taking it in stride. She disappeared down a hallway to catch a couple of EMTs and explain to them the procedure for caring for any elementals who had been shaken up by the scene. When she spotted a young worker named Cecil, she took him aside and seemed to have a drawn-out conversation.
Chaz turned away, feeling as if he was invading her privacy. Sully sat in Chaz’s lap on the foyer couch, his books and papers under his arm. After he’d been checked out by the EMTs, he’d grown silent and uninterested in the scene.
“You okay?” Chaz asked, whispering in his ear.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… looking forward to a time when I can go to bed, you know? I think I’m just exhausted.”
“Right.” Chaz kissed his forehead. “I think we’re almost through. Athena and the rest of the sisters will show up, and… I don’t think they’ll need much more from us. Maybe our statements.”
“Ugh. Okay. I’ll be fine, but… fading.” Sully’s gaze flicked across the room, where Jack was coming down the stairs. Melinda and Katja followed with a body bag. Declan. They carried him out the front door while Jack stayed in the foyer. He seemed completely lost in the sea of workers, police, EMTs, and mythic women.
“I think this means we can give our statements now,” Chaz said. “But give me two minutes to talk to him?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Sully slipped open his book and seemed to get lost in the words in a matter of seconds. Chaz straightened his jacket and slacks before he met Jack across the room. Jack’s smile was tight around the edges. The bags under his eyes had doubled in size.
“Long night,” Chaz said.
“Yeah, and I have no idea what to say other than you’re obviously not under arrest. Not anymore.”
“But I am, though. Imogen told me I’ll still have court dates for my fraud charge.”
“The fucking police are a fraud right now,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Some first case, huh? I’m going to be demoted. I’m waiting for the police commissioner to call right now.”
“You probably won’t. Who else will run this place? With Declan gone, and me too—”
“You can’t just….” Jack seemed like he wanted to argue but couldn’t. Chaz no longer had a job on the police force. He had a much bigger cause to get behind. Once he explained the plan to Jack, as briefly as he could, Jack nodded.
“Sounds like you have a long road ahead of you.”
“But it’s a good road. And I have the right people with me.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I knew you were not capable of this level of violence.”
“I still lied to you, though,” Chaz said. “I wanted to say I was sorry about that.”
“It’s… understandable.”
For a while, that was all Jack said. The two of them watched as a few police officers interviewed some of the new workers who had recognized Declan and repeatedly called him the devil. Imogen had made sure none of the workers were going to be arrested tonight, Artie and her sisters included, and demanded that anyone questioned needed to be treated with respect. Chaz was relieved to see that promise still being held up, and the women and men felt safe to talk.
“So, I have to ask,” Jack stated after a while. “Any idea why Declan was going after you? Sully?”
“Well, we know Declan was infected by someone. Not willingly, so he tried to set things right by killing all vamps he came into contact with. Those he had sex with, or felt attraction to, where a particular kind of trigger for him.”
“And you and him…?”
Chaz nodded. “A long time ago. He was already infected when we met, but he didn’t know. I became a target to him as soon as my name was leaked. He probably wanted to feed on me first until he realized he could get away with all his crimes if he pinned them on me. I’m more plausible than Ramirez. So he changed his MO to hunt Sully. Hurt the thing I love, right?”
Jack seemed surprised at the use of love but didn’t comment on it. “He was devolving too. The protestor who was killed wasn’t a vamp but had dressed up like one. It was a mess. A matter of time before he went down. Who did infect him, though? Do we have any ideas yet? I don’t think I can trust any of the resources he gave us now.”
“I know, but we can figure it out. When he and I met, his vampirism wasn’t detectable yet. If we can narrow down his partners in the one to three weeks before then, we probably have that vamp already on file as a cold case.”
“But he’s dead. Hard to ask him to find out.”
“But there’s enough research here to figure it out.” Chaz gestured to Artie behind her computer and to Athena who walked through the door. Though he’d never met her before, he could tell the six-foot-tall woman in a white pant suit with an owl on her briefcase was none other than a goddess. “Look, Jack. This whole thing is much bigger than you realize.”
“And about to be more public with your trial for fraud?” Jack sighed. “I get it. The law is broken in matters like this. I’m at a loss right now. We can’t even arrest anyone here because everyone’s covered their bases. No one here was actually engaging in acts when we showed up and all her bills show a charge to a fly-fishing and a wildlife magazine. The ones on the table. As far as we know, this is a magazine publication.”
“I know. They’re good. They have an entire system. You should listen more.”
“Oh, I think I’ll be getting an earful from everyone soon enough. You’re good with your bills and bail, right?”
“I think so. The best I can be.”
“Good. Because I really didn’t want to put up my condo up as collateral to get you out, but I figured I owed you one and would have.”
“Don’t even worry. I’m fine. I’ll be thinking of your cats,” Chaz joked. “But maybe you owe me one. A party? Where you bring the cake?”
“A party? Didn’t figure you for the type.”
“I’m usually not. But if red velvet cake is involved, I may change my tune.”
“I will keep that in mind. As soon as the law is changed, then I’ll be there. Your humble party planner, because I don’t think I will have a job after this.”
“You will. And to be the best staff inspector, you need cutting-edge research. Look under the seat in my squad car and use that.”
They exchanged a couple more pleasantries before Chaz hugged Jack good-bye. Chaz held on to Jack a lot longer than he expected. The EMTs were no longer crowding the hallway, which left officers to take more statements. By the time Chaz’s and Sully’s were complete, another hour had passed and it was almost dawn.
“Let’s get
you to bed,” Chaz said.
“But I don’t have one. My room is gone. My home….”
“Shh.” Chaz nuzzled his ear. He helped Sully up from the couch. He was asleep on his feet, nearly dead to the world. “I talked to Imogen. The safe house has become a safe hotel. Everyone’s gotta go over there now because of the CSU and contractors. Come on. I made sure we had a view of the city at night.”
Sully nodded but fell asleep as soon as he got into the car. Chaz carried him to their room, kissing his temple as he did, and whispered promises he hoped Sully would understand by morning.
Chapter 43
WHEN SULLY woke up, Chaz was next to him. He was still fully clothed, as if he dropped Sully in bed and fell alongside him without thinking. Sully traced a hand along the bedspread and realized it wasn’t the same diamond pattern he’d grown used to at Artie’s. The last few hours before sleep washed over him. Each time he blinked, he saw Declan’s face spewing blood on the floor. Sully shook his head, trying to push it away. He focused on Chaz in the bed next to him and the strange new sheets that were remarkably comfortable.
The window across from them showed a dark sky, as if Sully had slept through the day and into the night. The CN Tower glowed bright in rainbow colors from the center of the city. The hotel notepad was next to the bed, and Sully read off the address for the Nightingale Hotel and Bar. He knew this place, though he’d never stayed here. Across the street was St. Mike’s Theater, one of the last stops in the saint and arrow system Sully had traveled in. The theater had been built in the 1900s and had a million different trap doors and compartments for props, costumes, and scene changes. Sully and nine other workers had hidden underneath the stage area before Tom arrived, looking exactly like a gentleman caller from The Glass Menagerie, and guided them to Artie’s.
Pieces of last night’s conversations came back to Sully. The good conversations. Ones with Trina and Artie and Imogen. He settled back into the large duvet with a sigh.
The hotel wasn’t quite home, but the people he needed were here. That should be enough.
He curled up against Chaz’s back, creating a jetpack. When Chaz moved, Sully nuzzled into his neck. “You didn’t shower.”
“I’m sorry. Do I smell awful? The vampire blood?”
“No, it’s fine. You just… smell like you.”
“And what is that?”
“Cigarettes and rain. Maybe something sweet. Like cake?”
Chaz thought for a moment. “Imogen and I had pie before I realized everything.”
Sully nodded. He didn’t want to think about that past anymore. He wanted to be here, with Chaz, because he wasn’t sure how much time they’d have before he was carted off to jail or something went wrong. Sure, Athena was a good lawyer and Artie was one of the smartest people he’d ever met, but… there was still that nagging, looming doubt in his mind. What if none of this plan gets off the ground? What if something happens and Chaz is arrested anyway for something much worse than fraud? Will he have to cop a deal again and go to that shitty therapy place? Will I? Now that Sully had something to lose, he didn’t want it to be taken from him.
Chaz turned to face Sully and cupped a hand along his jaw. “Are you hungry?”
Sully laughed. “I really didn’t think that was what you were going to ask me.”
“What did you think?”
“Something way heavier. Something about the future.”
“We can talk about that. But later if you want.”
“That sounds good because I think I’m starving. I want pancakes. A lot of them.”
“Coming right up.” Chaz sat up in bed and dialed the hotel phone, his other hand never leaving Sully’s.
Twenty minutes later room service was brought up. Chaz gave the number to a credit card that Sully was sure was part of his own funds, not anything associated with the police getting everyone rooms for the night.
They shared the large plate of pancakes in relative silence, Chaz only eating maybe a quarter of what Sully did. They ate on the bed, cross-legged and only half-clothed. Sully blinked when he thought he saw a spot of blood on Chaz’s shirt, only to remember that the police had taken both of their clothing as evidence the night before.
“You should take off your shirt.”
“Should I now?” Chaz said, smiling. He followed Sully’s gaze to his shirt and seemed to understand what he saw. “Shit. I feel like it’ll never come off. And like I have to burn everything I own.”
“Yeah, but if you do, make sure to buy the exact ridiculously formal and stiff-collared shirt you used to have.”
“Really? Even if I’m not on the police force anymore?”
“Yes. It’s a lot more fun to take off.”
“Good point. See? I need you.” Chaz shucked off his shirt and pants, sitting back on the bed in his boxers. Sully replayed the words in his mind over and over again.
“Do you?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you need me?” Sully asked. “Or was that a joke? Are we…?”
“I’m in love with you, Michael Sullivan. It’s very, very bad. A dire situation, really.”
“Don’t tease me,” Sully said. “I’m normally all for kidding around but please. Just answer me. Do you need me?”
Chaz licked his lips. Sully recognized the action; he’d done it before when he talked about serious things. His tell—not that he was lying, but that he was being so honest he needed to cover his vulnerabilities. Sully knew before the words came out of his mouth that it was all real.
“I love you and I need you. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next six or seven months, probably more like a year, because it will take at least that long for me to go through a trial and then for this law to change, but there are three things I know for sure. I was counting before I fell asleep.”
“And you stopped at three?”
“Yes, that was as far as I got. Very tired, you see.”
Sully sighed, exasperated. “Just tell me. What are they?”
“One: My name is Chaz Solomon. I am never, ever giving that name up again. Even if it has a bad history and unsure future. It is who I am. Two, I love you, Michael Sullivan. I will never stop, no matter what happens between us or what the future holds.”
Tension seized Sully’s stomach. “And three?”
“And three,” Chaz repeated, “I want a home. I need a home. I have no idea where that is yet, but it’s my end goal. And maybe, if you’re up for it, I’d like that home to have you in it. With me.”
Sully swallowed hard and wiped a tear that fell down his cheek. He pushed another one away like it was a foreign object. When more came, and he couldn’t fight it anymore, he slumped on the bed in a ball. He wanted to cry about everything bad that had ever happened to him, but he never did. He always froze up thinking of his past. It was always the good things, like someone who loved him promising to find a home with him, that made him break down into tears.
And he was doing so much crying lately. It was just ridiculous.
“Goddammit,” Sully said, trying to push away his tears but failing. “I hate everything.”
“No, you don’t.” Chaz took the plate and set it on the floor, then closed the space between their bodies. He rubbed Sully’s back until he calmed down, whispering and humming.
“That’s my song,” Sully said.
“It is. Should I stop?”
“No. I like it. That song is like home.”
“If only we could live in an opera.”
Sully laughed. His tears stopped, but it was hard to speak. His throat felt as if he’d swallowed a baseball, and the feeling only got worse when he thought about the final scene in the opera. All the men and women come to the center. They hold up flowers and sing the final number. Then they stay paused, in a perpetual tableau, as the curtains close.
Sully always thought the ending was cheap. They never allowed the characters to finish, thereby leaving the audience hanging about what happened next. He realiz
ed now, sitting in bed with Chaz, that was the point. You freeze the happy moments like you freeze trauma—but they’re stronger than you realize. When you revisit the happy frozen moment, it reminds you that life can be good again and the bad things can’t hold you down as much. When Sully got the novel, he’d been shocked that the ending scene of the opera was in the middle of the book. And the original ending of the book was a tragic one. The opera had moved things around so the audience could be left with that feeling of fleeting happiness because that was what mattered far more than anything else. Everything about his favorite opera, like everything about Chaz, was as beautiful as it was tragic. But he knew the way he wanted things to end.
Sully took a deep, deep breath. He leaned against Chaz’s shoulder. It was a while before he spoke, but Chaz seemed content to wait. “You know, we kind of already do live in an opera. A soap opera. I could write my own series about this hotel.”
“I know you could. In both languages too. You’re a good translator.”
Sully nodded. He sniffed. When no more tears came, he knew he was ready to list the things he knew for sure. “I won’t stop working.”
“Hmm?”
“If we do this, whatever this is, I won’t stop working. I’m good at my job.”
“I know you are. I will love you no matter what.”
“You will?”
“I will.”
“I know I can’t do this forever,” Sully said. “Not all sex work is sex, though. I do this because I like it, but maybe there will come a day when I don’t meet with people one on one anymore. I’m still going to work with Artie. Trina. Tom. Tabby. Lisa, though she’s rude. Lexie, the new one. And Stacey, the vamp. Cecil too. I can’t leave them.”
“I know. I’d never take you away from them. Maybe you have a home with me and go there during the nights or days. Maybe you work another ten more years and become a translator. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There are so many options, Sully. I just want to have them with you.”
Sully swallowed. Nothing here was a trade. A quid pro quo deal. Chaz was letting him do what he wanted, as long as they got to be beside each other like this. Sully loved him more than he ever thought possible. All he could think of was the stupid idiom it had taken him so long to understand.
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