Since he’d been in this world, he’d traveled though.
He made up for that lack of freedom in movement by making sure he saw any part of the globe that struck his fancy. For any fucking reason. Even to fight in another human war. Or to spend a weekend getting drunk and losing money on the tables in Macau.
Exhaling, he leaned into the short wall behind him, propping the rifle against his leg. Inside the church, the lights were all out. The only light illuminating the rows of benches and the stone statues and mosaic floors came from the sunlight filtering through colored windows, and from the dome itself, where Black crouched.
It was pretty, he thought. Churches always were more religious somehow, with no people in them. He felt more like that now, with all the crap Lucky’s people had been shoving down his throat. He closed his eyes briefly, sunlight playing on the backside of his lids.
He jerked awake a few seconds later, coming out of a light doze. I felt Black’s nerves ratchet higher as he used the scope again to stare down into that hollow space. I felt him holding his breath, his mind as still as a windless pond.
He spent a lot of his time in hideaways like this since he’d gotten here.
He’d also been shot at, more than once, by Ian, when the other seer had found him, and several times when Ian had been waiting for him before Black got set up.
One of those got close––too close, to my mind.
This was different than the other jobs he did for Lucky.
Black took it more seriously, for a lot of reasons.
I could feel glimmers of emotion off him as he held his breath, cursing himself for dozing off, for exposing himself to being shot at again. I’d already noticed that some of Black’s cockiness had dimmed in the months he’d been gone. He’d sobered in some way I still struggled to pin down––maybe partly due to what happened with Solonik in Thailand. I definitely got the sense he’d grown more cautious when it came to other seers.
I felt whispers of his thoughts around that.
Self-recriminations, mainly. He saw himself as having grown soft, overly complacent. He’d gotten too used to having an advantage over the people he went up against.
Like Solonik, the seer he hunted now was older than him.
Ian had probably fought in wars in that other world, too. Maybe dozens of them. Most seers had, especially those trained as infiltrators.
Black had no way of knowing what kind of training Ian had received though, or anything about his background really, apart from what made it to human records on this version of Earth. Black didn’t intend to underestimate him though, like he had with Solonik.
Lucky’s people wouldn’t tell him anything. Nothing he could believe.
He knew the seer hated him.
Worse––in Black’s mind, at least––the seer had a serious grudge against me.
The main thing I felt from Black however, was that he couldn’t let Ian get too far out of his sight. He couldn’t lose track of him here, with everything else going on. Black was hyper-aware he’d left me alone in San Francisco. I felt his fears around Ian and the things he might do––to me, especially. I felt him aware of my vulnerability, with the two of us physically apart.
It was interesting to me, in a morbid-fascination kind of way, just how different Ian looked through Black’s eyes compared to mine. More than that, it interested me just how different the situation between the three of us looked to Black than it ever had to me.
In Black’s mind, Ian would be furious that I was with Black now.
Black assumed that me and him being involved would be an unpardonable offense in Ian’s eyes. Really, from what I could tell from Black, it would be an unpardonable offense to any seer. Black broke some “code” seers had around sexual partners by dating me.
He’d done it more or less knowingly too. Enough so that he felt vaguely guilty about it, if only for the danger he’d put me in.
I still didn’t know exactly what that code entailed.
Whatever it was, in Black’s mind, Ian killing those poor kids in Thailand had been about that. Ian killing newlyweds in Paris was about that, as well. Further, Black seemed to think Ian wouldn’t be able to let it go. Black thought Ian still wanted to kill me primarily to keep me away from him, meaning away from Black himself.
I found that difficult to believe.
It also didn’t explain the original murders––meaning the Wedding Murders in San Francisco. From what I could tell, Ian killed those women mainly because he resented having to marry me, likely after being ordered to do so by Lucky.
All that started before I’d even heard of Quentin Black.
Whatever the truth of Ian, I had no doubt Black believed his own theory around broken seer “bro-codes.” The fact that Black saw it as personal only made him more cautious, not less, however, which is all I cared about.
I watched the rifle’s scope as he panned it over the floor of the darkened church. He scanned every visible inch of the cathedral through the telescopic lens. It only hit me then, why this rifle looked so different from the ones I’d seen Black using over the past however-many weeks.
He was holding a tranquilizer gun.
He was here for a live capture. Not a kill.
That had to be Lucky’s doing, too.
Whatever my feelings for Black, I had no illusions about how he’d deal with Ian, given the choice. If Black was trying to bring Ian in alive, it was because he was under orders to do it.
Truthfully, given what Ian had done and the unlikelihood of the police ever catching him, given what he was, I was more in sympathy with Black’s preferences than Lucky’s. I also knew Lucky couldn’t be trusted to have good motives for wanting Ian alive.
Anyway, I knew it wasn’t about revenge for Black.
Fear wasn’t his primary motivation either, although that played a part.
At the end of the day, Black was risk adverse. More than that, he had strong feelings about people who posed a risk to anyone who fell under his personal rubric of “family.” He would kill Ian simply to warn others away from what was his. He would do it because in his mind, taking the long view, it was the safest course of action for himself.
At the end of the day, Black saw me as his.
The idea stunned me a little.
It also turned me on, although I wasn’t sure it should.
You could ask me about the tranquilizer gun, Miriam... the voice whispers. It is faint, soft. Maybe so Black won’t hear us. Ask me what I think?
I sighed. Sometimes the presence felt like more of a child than an adult.
What’s significant about the gun? I thought back.
More games. More wasted time. He’ll never catch your ex-lover like this. Lucky knows. Lucky knows he won’t, Miri... he doesn’t want him caught. He wants him alive.
I gritted my teeth at the voice’s insistence on calling Ian my “ex-lover.”
What would you call him? the voice sent, curious.
A psychopath, I thought back.
I held my breath as the word got pulled apart and away by the wind. My mind coiled protectively around Black where he crouched in the dark, the stock of a tranquilizer rifle jammed up against his shoulder.
The voice watched us together.
Strangely, I felt it approve.
He’s yours too, Miriam, he sent softly, as if hearing me. But you have to take him back. They’ll never let him go willingly. It’s not a test Lucky wants... it’s control. He wants a good little doggy and Black won’t be that. He can pretend. He can play make-believe and let’s pretend... but in the end, Black’ll only get himself killed...
The voice drifted, falling into that melancholy it sometimes wore.
All of us can make sacrifices, Miriam. Black, too. But in the end, we can only be who we are. We can only be who we are in the end, Miriam...
I knew the voice was right.
I knew he was right about Black, too.
I OPENED MY eyes, staring up at a shadow-patterned c
eiling.
I was in his bed, under his sheets... in his room.
I wondered if I’d come here for that reason.
To try and strengthen that connection again.
I was losing him. It hadn’t happened yet, but I could feel it coming, just like the voice told me it was coming. I saw it in my mind, like a light flickering at the horizon, drawing closer whenever I looked away. They wanted to take him from me.
I didn’t know why they wanted to separate us, but I could feel that tangibly too.
In the outside world, the differences remained invisible.
In the outside world, he was still Black. I still talked to him almost every day. There was nothing I could feel on him that was different, nothing I could notice at all when he was awake. He still claimed he was just doing a time-limited contract. Six months, then he was out.
But, like the voice said in the back of my mind, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
I knew they had no intention of really letting him go.
Black? My jaw firmed.
I didn’t want to distract him. I knew I could be putting him in danger, given what I’d just seen, but like Black himself, I had my doubts Ian would be coming. Lucky sent him on a snipe hunt––probably just because he could, to keep Black tired and over-stressed.
I also knew this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Black? Are you there? I prodded him a bit with my mind, sharper. Hey, I need to talk to you. You there? BLACK.
I felt his presence filter around me slowly, wrapping around me, enveloping me in heat and light and affection. I also felt the caution there, and the fact that his mind remained split, still halfway focused on the floor of the cathedral below the barrel of his tranquilizer rifle.
More than that, I felt him pretending he’d been asleep, that I’d woken him up.
He did it to reassure me, I knew. He also did it to keep me from asking questions.
It didn’t reassure me though. Not even a little.
Hey baby, he sent, his thoughts sleepy-sounding. What’s up?
Warmth swam through me, liquid affection.
Gods, I’m hard already. He said it teasingly, pulling on me, but I felt a flicker of truth in his words. When I didn’t answer, his thoughts sharpened. What is it? What’s wrong, Miriam?
I fought back my reaction to feeling so much of him.
I also fought back my reaction to his blatant lie.
Shaking my head without really answering him, I stared up at the darkened ceiling, only faintly lit by the moon. I was high enough here, in his penthouse apartment, that no other buildings leaked light into where I was.
Are you at my place? he sent.
That heat on him intensified, coiling around my body.
As I closed my eyes, letting him in, his presence turned more pulling, that longing shifting from less of a means of distracting me and more into the real thing. That warmer affection morphed into an aching kind of pain, what Black called “separation pain.”
He told me seers experienced that pain when they wanted sex.
He said sometimes it wasn’t really about sex though––it could be about affection too, or simply a desire for a more intense connection with someone, sexual or not. Kids who got separated from their parents too young got it. Siblings who lost siblings could get it, too. Close friends could get it as well, along with lovers and family.
He said it could also be a more general wanting of affection and connection and physical contact. He said sometimes it could also be very specific to a particular person.
With him and me, he admitted, it was both.
I was almost used to the sensation now.
Unlike regular physical pain, it felt more like a confused mix of pain and desire and even loneliness. Sometimes it got so bad I couldn’t eat. I remembered feeling like this when Zoe died. I remembered learning to stifle it when my parents died, too.
Whatever it was, it was getting worse lately. For me, at least.
Gods, Miri, he sent, as if hearing me. You have no idea how fucking badly I want to be there right now...
His words brought it back, the memory of what I’d seen, just minutes before.
Is it daytime where you are? I asked.
Yes... I saw him glance at his watch. Eleven-thirty. Coming on noon... I watched him yawn behind my eyes, knowing that was put on too, although he did feel tired, more tired than he was admitting to me. I had a late night. Surveillance. Why?
I noted the information, even as I glanced at my own clock.
He’d never been that careless before. He really was tired.
Are you at home, in the apartment? That place with the fireplace?
Yes. His thoughts grew wary. I felt him going over what he’d told me already, what I’d asked. His mind grew warier still. Why?
I sighed, fingering the pendant around my neck.
You know why. I didn’t wait for his reply, but decided to cut the crap all the way. Look, I know where you are. I can fucking see you, Black. Right now... most of the time now, if you want the truth. I see more than I’ve been telling you. I see more all the time. I feel more all the time too, and not all of it is stuff you seem to want me to know...
I hesitated again, still gripping the pendant.
I’m done. I’m not waiting anymore, okay? I can’t do this, Black. I can’t just sit here and wait for you anymore. So after today, I’m not going to. I needed you to know that.
Silence.
Real silence that time.
Images of Nick flickered through his mind. It might have made me laugh under different circumstances. Not because it was funny––I knew he was paranoid about Nick. I also knew why he was paranoid, and that it was mostly my fault.
But Nick was so far from what I’d been thinking just then, Black and I might have been in two different conversations.
I felt him taking my words, pulling them apart. I felt his fear and jealousy worsen as he tried to decide what I was really telling him.
Oh? he sent casually. Can you explain that, doc?
I shook my head, but not to his question.
Or maybe to the question he hadn’t asked.
Black, no. Still tugging at the necklace, I shook my head again. That’s not what I meant. You’re misunderstanding me... relax, okay? Relax, Black.
When his wariness didn’t lessen, I opened myself to him more, pushing reassurance at him, warmth, letting him feel more of me.
He reacted to that too.
Within seconds, his presence grew hotter, sliding deeper into mine.
Gods, he sent. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You’re not breaking up with me? This isn’t the go-fuck-yourself speech?
I smiled at the ceiling, shaking my head.
Not breaking up with you, Black.
But you’re tired of waiting? I felt him hesitate, not sure if he should ask, or maybe what he should ask. I don’t know how to ask this, Miri... he sent, even as I thought it. I know it’s not really my business, but––
I’m not sleeping with anyone else, Black. I’m not saying I’m about to, or threatening to... so stop worrying about me like that, okay? There is no one else. I promise. You’ve misunderstood me. Completely. That’s not where this is going.
His relief intensified, enough to make me smile again, but not really in humor. I was worried he was in mortal danger and he was worried I was going to have sex with someone else.
Typical.
Miri, he sent, pulling on me again. Don’t tease me. Tell me what you mean.
I’m not teasing you, Black. I’m telling you I’m not waiting for you anymore. I don’t care what you say... or about your overprotective bullshit. I’m not doing it.
But what does that actually mean?
I let out an incredulous snort. What do you think it means? It means I’m coming to where you are. I’m not going to sit here and keep trying to convince you to come back. It’s obviously not working. You’re not listening to me, no matter what I say.
And since none of your damned goons will help me, I’m doing it on my own.
Silence fell in the darkness between us.
Miri... He hesitated, and that pain on him worsened. Baby, I want to see you so fucking badly. You have no idea. But you can’t. You can’t come here, okay? Please. Go to Hawaii or something if you’re going stir-crazy there. You can use my money for whatever you want. Take your friends too. He paused, his thoughts sharper. But not Nick––
Jesus, Black, I don’t need a goddamned vacation.
Miri, you can’t come here. I’m serious. You can’t.
I shook my head. I wasn’t asking, Black. I was telling you.
That pain on him intensified. Miri... I understand. Gods... I really really understand. I know it’s hard. I know what you’re going through right now, but please don’t come here––
What I’m going through? I sent.
He fell silent.
That time, a density lived in his silence.
When he still didn’t speak, my heart started beating harder in my chest.
Black? What am I going through? What are you talking about?
When I couldn’t feel anything from him, I felt myself listening harder, even as I fought to understand what I’d already reacted to. Before I could wrap my head around it, his presence surrounded me, filling me from all sides. I got a flicker of the dome where he sat, remembered where he was. Even as I did, his thoughts backpedaled.
They grew subdued. Cautious.
He sighed, as if giving in.
I just meant... the seer thing, Miri. The seer thing, you understand? You’re changing. I know you’ve noticed. We’ve talked about it. He hesitated. That time, I felt the barest hint of calculation behind his thoughts. Well. Perhaps not in so many words... but I thought we’d talked about it somewhat. More or less. You said you’d felt things. You said I was different, too. You said we both felt different to you. Remember, Miriam... ?
I frowned. My fingers wrapped around the pendant I wore, the one he’d given back to me. I thought you said that was nothing.
It is nothing, he said at once. You’re only half seer. It’s not a big deal.
How am I changing, Black?
Black On Black (Quentin Black Mystery #3) Page 6