Smoke & Mirrors

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Smoke & Mirrors Page 8

by Charlie Cochet


  With a groan, Sloane got out of bed, providing Dex with a tantalizing show as he extended his beefy arms high over his head, the muscles in his back flexing and shifting under all that smooth skin as he stretched. The soft cotton of his loose pajama bottoms accentuated his firm, round ass. Dex had the urge to pounce, but knowing Sloane had to get ready for work, he behaved himself.

  Sloane used the bathroom and got dressed while Dex pulled on a T-shirt and made the bed. He went downstairs to brew more than the individual tankard of pre–morning coffee his fancy coffee machine had prepared for him earlier that morning. By the time he got back upstairs, Sloane was done with the bathroom. He kissed Dex sweetly on the lips on his way to the kitchen to make breakfast. It hadn’t taken them long to fall into a morning routine that worked perfectly for them.

  Thanks to Dex’s Waking Dead state in the mornings, he now set his smart alarm to wake him an hour before their regular alarm was set to go off. Dex would stumble downstairs half-asleep, his body on autopilot as he took his coffee mug—which he always left by the machine the night before, along with a spoon and small plastic Tupperware with the exact measurement of sugar he liked—and poured himself some nectar of the gods. He added all the sugar in the tiny container, mixed, and sipped enough to reach some level of brain functionality. Then he went back upstairs and climbed into bed next to Sloane. They snuggled, their alarm went off about half an hour later, and Dex was awake enough to enjoy Sloane’s sleepy morning smile.

  After putting on one of his faded Def Leppard T-shirts and a pair of donut-patterned socks, Dex went downstairs and sat at the kitchen counter as Sloane served up high-fiber english muffins piled high with scrambled egg whites, topped with melted low-fat shredded cheese and bacon bits. Dex’s steaming, frothy bucket of cappuccino beckoned.

  “Thanks for breakfast, babe.” Dex took a big sip of his coffee, sighing in contentment before chomping down on his english muffin. He’d been distrustful of the egg whites at first, but Sloane had ways of making them tasty.

  “Dex, you okay?”

  Dex realized he’d been staring down at his plate. “Shit, sorry. I must have zoned out there a second.”

  “Several seconds,” Sloane said, his amber eyes filled with worry. He placed his hand gently to the back of Dex’s neck, his thumb stroking his skin. “You okay?”

  “I’m good.” Dex smiled and leaned in to give Sloane a quick kiss. He finished his coffee and then got busy cleaning up. That was the deal. One cooked or prepared food; the other cleaned up. As soon as the dishwasher was loaded and programmed, Dex busied himself cleaning the kitchen. He gave a start when Sloane took hold of his elbow, turning Dex around, his brow furrowed.

  “Dex, you’re not good. What’s wrong?” Sloane brushed Dex’s hair away from his face. “And don’t say you’re good. You’re cleaning the kitchen.”

  “I like a clean kitchen,” Dex replied with a shrug.

  “Babe, you cleaned it twice yesterday.”

  Had he? Crap. He had. Dex let out a deep sigh. “I don’t want you to go, but I know you have to go. But I don’t want you to.” Man, he sounded like such a whiney whiner. Sloane didn’t seem to notice his pathetic pouting. He’d be fine. He was fine.

  “Should I call in?” Sloane put his fingers under Dex’s chin and tilted his face up so their eyes could meet. “If you need me to stay, I will.”

  “No.” Yes. Dex shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m being silly.” He just felt… weird.

  “Dex—”

  “Nope.” Dex smiled brightly and kissed Sloane’s lips before turning him and gently pushing him toward the front door. If he didn’t get Sloane out he’d never let him leave, and he couldn’t be that selfish. “You’re Team Leader. You need to go lead your team. Your city needs you.”

  Sloane turned and took hold of Dex’s hand. He put it to his lips for a kiss. “The city needs the THIRDS. It doesn’t need me. If you don’t feel safe or well, just say the word.”

  “I’ll be fine. I promise. The Tin Men are out there making sure the Wicked Witch doesn’t get me. I’m pretty sure Austen’s been hanging around too.”

  Sloane cocked his head to one side. “How do you know?”

  “Just a feeling. Also my Cheesy Doodles are missing.”

  Sloane sighed. “I warned him about that.”

  “Because he’s so good at listening,” Dex said, rolling his eyes. At least the guy had stopped peeping on them. Not so much because Sloane had told him not to for the billionth time, but because something—or someone—else seemed to have captured Austen’s full attention.

  After giving Sloane a thorough good-bye kiss, Dex stood in the doorway with a silly grin on his face as he watched Sloane get into the Impala. The passenger-side window slid down, and Sloane waved at him before pulling away from the curb.

  Dex closed the door behind him, then made sure it was locked. A deep sense of loss hit him out of the blue. He shivered and put a hand to the wall for support. What the hell? A wave of nausea almost knocked him over, and he ran to the kitchen, hurling when he reached the trash bin. When he was done, he grabbed the clean, wet dish towel hanging over the edge of the sink to wipe his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his body to calm down. When he felt like he could move without puking, he rinsed his mouth out. Was it possible whatever Wolf gave him was still working its way out of his system? That had been days ago. TIN had assured him no traces of it remained.

  Dex turned, and his insides erupted in a fiery explosion of agonizing pain. It swept through his body like lightning strikes to his organs and muscles. His legs gave out from under him, and he hit the floor. His back arched violently, his muscles feeling like they were trying to burst out of his skin. His heartbeat soared, and Dex clenched his teeth. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn’t. Oh God, he was so scared. What was happening to him?

  “Quick, put him on the table.”

  Who the hell was that? Dex was in too much pain to figure it out. His vision was sharp yet dark at the edges. Hands took hold of him and lifted him, carried him and held him securely as his body twisted brutally. The pain came in waves, each one stronger than the last. He felt tears roll down his cheeks, but there was nothing he could do.

  “Don’t let him hit his head,” someone else said. Seconds later, his head was carefully secured.

  “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know. Boss said we needed to watch him. The tests were inconclusive. He’s not… normal.”

  Dex would have laughed if he could. Story of my life. Was he having a seizure? Surely he wouldn’t be aware if he was. At least he knew the people in his house were TIN operatives. For the first time, he was grateful for their vigilance.

  A light shone in one eye, then the other as he convulsed on the table. He was aware of hands on him, holding him down, on his arms, legs, torso, thighs, and ankles.

  “Make a note. His pupils are fully dilated.”

  “He’s strong,” another said. “Really strong.”

  That happened with seizures, didn’t it? A white light burst in front of his eyes, and everything he felt swept through him in a rush, erupting from his mouth in a fierce scream that almost sounded like a roar. The roar of an animal in agony. This was it. He was going to die.

  “What the hell?”

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Just hold him!”

  “Dex, think of Sloane.”

  Sparks?

  “Empty your mind and think of nothing but Sloane.” She put her hand to Dex’s brow. “Think of the first time he told you he loved you.”

  Dex closed his eyes and gritted his teeth so tight his jaw hurt. His heart was going to beat out of his chest. No. Think of Sloane. Dex thought about the first time he saw Sloane sparring with Ash in Sparta. His smile had blown Dex away. Dex thought of all the fun they’d had in the office, his time teasing Sloane, driving him crazy, playing pranks on him. He recalled all the times Sloane got his payback. He thought of their first
kiss, the first time they’d had sex, then made love. He thought about Sloane telling Dex he loved him.

  “That’s it. Breathe. All you see is Sloane.”

  Dex moaned. His body hurt. It was broken. His bones felt broken. He thought of Sloane on the couch with him, his head on Dex’s lap as they watched movies. He’d made Sloane purr again in Human form. Sloane pouted, and Dex laughed.

  Something pricked Dex’s arm, and he flinched. He was tired, so tired. His eyelids grew heavy, and he appreciated the gentle fingers brushing through his hair, comforting. It was odd. Comfort wasn’t a word he’d ever associated with Sparks.

  “Good. You did good.” Sparks’s voice was quiet when she turned away, but Dex heard her as if she’d been speaking in his ear. “Keep an eye on him. He has to make it through this. I don’t think I need to stress how important he is. Make sure he’s comfortable, and that he doesn’t remember this when he wakes up.”

  Like that was going to happen. There was no way Dex wouldn’t remember this. He felt something cool against his skin, felt the prick of another needle before everything went black.

  MUSIC. FAMILIAR and soothing.

  Dex stirred with a smile. Journey.

  He rolled over onto his left side and snuggled closer against his pillow. The music stopped, and he frowned. Why did it sound so far away? It started up again, and Dex rolled over to the other side, his face and body falling, then hitting something hard.

  “Ouch.” Dex opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get them to focus. Why was he on the floor? With a frown, he sat up. Journey was playing, and it took him a second to realize it was coming from his phone. He grabbed it off the coffee table and turned to flop against the couch while he swiped the screen. His heart skipped a beat when he heard Sloane’s voice.

  “Hey, babe. You okay? Were you sleeping?”

  “Yeah, on the couch. I uh….” Dex frowned. “I guess I fell asleep after you left.”

  “You guess?” Sloane said with a chuckle. “Did the pillow accidently land under your head?”

  Dex took note of his pillow and fluffy blanket on the couch. Had they been there when Sloane left for work? They must have if Sloane remembered the pillow. “Something like that.” He pushed himself to his feet and stretched. Man, his body hurt. He must have fallen asleep at a funny angle.

  “You okay?”

  “Must have been a bit out of it. I remember you leaving, and then I think I went to the kitchen for something. Next thing I know, I’m on the floor.”

  “What do you mean on the floor?” Sloane asked worriedly.

  “I fell off the couch.”

  “Oh.” Sloane laughed softly. “Do I need to get you one of those toddler rails?”

  “Ha. Funny.” Dex sat on the couch and pulled his legs up before wrapping himself in his blanket. “At least I fell of my own free will and wasn’t pushed.”

  “Aw, come on. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Dex could hear the amusement in Sloane’s voice. He narrowed his eyes even though Sloane couldn’t see him. “Really? Do you know how far I had to travel to make it to the edge of the bed? Our bed is not small. It’s king-size. Therian king-size.”

  “You move around a lot sometimes. You obviously got too close to the edge.”

  “Uh-huh. Funny how it happened the night I accidently deleted the season finale of your favorite show before you could watch it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Dex gasped. “Oh my God, you did push me off on purpose!” There was a rustling noise, followed by the muffled sound of Sloane laughing his ass off.

  “I can hear you!”

  The laughter intensified. He’d clearly moved his hand away. “Sorry.” Yet he continued to laugh. He was so not sorry.

  “Laugh it up, fuzzball.”

  “I am. You know how much self-control it took for me not to laugh when you hit the floor? I thought I was going to pee myself!”

  Dex waited as Sloane’s laughter eased into a very attractive snort. “Are you done?”

  “For now.”

  “Is that why you called?”

  “I called because I missed you.”

  “Aw.” Dex melted into the couch cushions. “Well played, sir. Well played.”

  “Am I off the hook?”

  “Not on your life, but aw.”

  “It was worth a try. How about if on my way home from work, I bring you home something tasty and unhealthy?”

  Dex pretended to think about it. “It better be really unhealthy. Like over five hundred calories in one sitting.”

  “Deal.” When Sloane next spoke, his voice was gentle and laced with concern. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good.” It was the truth. He was surprised he hadn’t had any nightmares, but he supposed there was still time. Actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t dreamed at all. “I’m gonna watch some TV, just veg out for a while.”

  They talked a little more as Sloane finished his coffee break. It was a somewhat quiet day with no callouts for Destructive Delta as of yet. Somewhere behind Sloane, Ash said it was because Dex wasn’t there to attract all the crazies.

  “Tell him to bite me.”

  Sloane relayed the message before returning to the phone. “He made a little heart shape with his fingers. Isn’t that sweet? I think he loves you.”

  “Fuck off. I didn’t do that,” Ash growled somewhere over Sloane’s shoulder, making Dex chuckle.

  The two tussled, and Dex smiled at Sloane’s laughter. It was so good to hear. The sound always made Dex happy.

  “Your boyfriend is a dork, and so are you,” Ash called out before the office went quiet.

  Sloane chuckled.

  “I better go. Sparks wants us in Sparta for training. Rest up, okay? Love you.”

  “I love you too. Stay safe.”

  “I will. Talk soon.”

  Dex said his good-byes and hung up. He tossed his phone on the cushion and flopped onto his side, his head hitting the pillow. He stared at the blank TV screen. Why did his body hurt so much? He frowned. His head was fuzzy too, and his stomach felt empty. How could he be hungry? He’d eaten just a few hours ago. Wait, now he remembered. He’d felt sick this morning after Sloane left. He’d even thrown up. He must’ve lain down after he was sick and fallen asleep. No wonder he felt weird. Maybe he was pushing himself too hard. He kept telling Sloane he was okay, but maybe he was trying to convince himself as much as Sloane. Rest would be good.

  He was about to close his eyes when he caught movement reflected in one of the framed photos on his mantle. It was one Tony had taken of him with his parents at a park. Swallowing hard, Dex stared at the photo but didn’t move. The shape was so dark it was almost black. It stalked like a Felid. It almost looked like one. That wasn’t possible. It got closer, and an icy chill went up Dex’s spine. Fuck. His gun was locked in its case upstairs in the drawer.

  Slowly, he stretched his legs out on the couch and readied himself. He sprang to his feet and spun around, only to find the house empty.

  Chapter 4

  DEX WAS ready for a fight.

  He listened intently. Nothing. The house was quiet. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him. Dex ran a hand through his hair. Was he going crazy? He could have sworn he’d seen something. Not taking any chances, he slowly retreated to the entryway and grabbed the baseball bat resting in the corner against the wall. Thanks to his dad and Old Betsy, Dex had taken up the tradition and kept his own baseball bat. Never knew when it would come in handy.

  Cautiously, he searched his house, leaving no space unchecked. He inspected every cabinet, every closet, even the pantry. Nothing. Could it have been TIN? Why would they be in his house? The doorbell rang, and Dex almost jumped out of his skin. Enough of this bullshit. He was not going to start jumping at shadows. Checking through the peephole, he smiled, pleasantly surprised. He returned the bat to its corner, then opened the door wide, greeting the English wolf Therian on the
other side with a big grin.

  Hudson looked him over, his eyes wide. “Bloody hell.”

  “Hey, we’re like the Bruise Brothers,” Dex teased, stepping aside so Hudson could get by. “Come in.”

  Hudson stepped inside and removed his jacket. “Is that a picture reference?”

  “Blues Brothers. Please tell me you’ve seen the movie.”

  Hudson wrinkled his nose. “Of course I have. Just never know with you.”

  Dex took Hudson’s jacket from him and hung it up. “Dude, you didn’t have to come all the way down here. You were shot.”

  “All the resting was growing tiresome. I heard Sloane returned to work today. I figured you might like some company. And you….”

  Hudson studied him, and Dex tried his best not to squirm under the inspection. The last person he needed examining him was Hudson. A gasp escaped Hudson, and he took hold of Dex’s wrist, making him flinch. The bruises from the zip ties hadn’t quite faded yet. Neither had the bruising on his fingers.

  “Hudson, I—”

  “Ambush, my bloody arse! What really happened?”

  “Bad intel. We arrived on scene and—”

  “Don’t take the piss with me, Dexter.” With a huff, Hudson released Dex’s wrist and marched into the living room.

  Take the piss. That was a new one. Take it where? And why would you want to take piss anywhere? That was just gross. “I, uh, have no idea what that means.”

  “It means I know enhanced interrogation techniques when I see them.” He turned to Dex and folded his arms over his chest.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not what it means.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. It means don’t mock me. How long have you known me?”

  Hudson was adorable when he was flustered. Dex tried his best to hold back a smile. The last thing he needed was a doctor who wielded sharp medical implements to be mad at him. “I can’t remember all your weird Brit terms. I don’t think I’d heard that one yet.”

  “You’re being evasive.”

  For a very good reason. “I can’t go into it. I’m sorry.”

 

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