Black On Black (Quentin Black Mystery #3)

by JC Andrijeski

  “No,” he said.

  “Brother.” The other sighed, folding his arms. “We’ve been over this. You are not being permitted to deny consent.”

  “Please don’t do this.” Black subdued his voice. He made it deliberately contrite, formally so––employing seer manners he hadn’t used in decades, not since he’d lived in the Old World. “Brother. Please. I am making a heartfelt request. Do not do this. Please.”

  He swallowed, glancing again at the black space beyond the torches. His eyes couldn’t penetrate that darkness, but he definitely felt other people there now.

  “...I’m sorry about the ritual,” he said. “And for being an asshole about it. I’ll give a formal apology to, if you want one... to you. To brother Lucky. To the whole damned congregation, if you need to hear it. But don’t do this, please.”

  Swallowing again, he let his eyes return to the corridor, seemingly on their own.

  “...She’ll feel it,” he said, lower. “She’ll fucking feel it.”

  “I apologize for your distress in this matter, my brother... truly.” The seer watched him clinically, no trace of that apology in his face, or his light. “...But I would hope a companion would understand when one cannot truly consent. And I am under orders too. The decision has been made. I am told it is non-negotiable.”

  Black felt his muscles clench harder as several people walked forward into the light.

  They were all naked. The female in front, he recognized from Grigiore’s dining room. Her long, curled brown hair glinted with red highlights under the torchlight. She smiled at him almost shyly, her eyes drifting down his body right before she licked her lips.

  “Fuck.” Black looked back at the red-eyed man. “This is bullshit. You know this is bullshit. This is way over the line... it goes against every law we’ve ever had on the books when it comes to messing with seers under agreement...”

  The red-eyed seer inclined his head, an acknowledgment of his words.

  But he didn’t answer.

  Stepping aside, he walked deliberately to one of the stone-masoned walls with the iron brackets, opening the space between Black and the corridor. The invitation was obvious, even to Black––the robed seer was giving the others the green light to approach.

  Three of them walked right up to where Black knelt, all of them looking at him now.

  Curiosity shone in their eyes. None of them looked away from his body or face. None of them appeared embarrassed either, despite what they must have heard Black say.

  They knew he didn’t want this.

  Clearly, they didn’t care.

  Black could see now that in addition to the female seer he recognized, a male seer stood there as well, along with what appeared to be a female human. All three of them looked like they were high on something, too––which wasn’t exactly reassuring. Black couldn’t tell what they were on, not even by feeling the edges of their light, but it might not be drugs or alcohol. Lucky’s people might had done something more permanent to them.

  That female seer definitely didn’t look like she was playing with a full deck.

  He winced back when they moved forward, but the chains didn’t let him go far. He found himself looking up at the faces of all three of them, knowing from their glazed stares that he probably wouldn’t be able to reason with them.

  He tried anyway.

  “I’m under agreement,” he said, breathing harder as he stared up at the female in front. “I’m under fucking agreement. I don’t want any of you...”

  The female seer smiled.

  It was a knowing smile.

  Kneeling in front of him, she didn’t hesitate, but put her hand on him. When he sucked in a breath, yanking hard, backwards against the chains, she stroked him with her palm. She pulled on him slowly, sensually... but only long enough to get him hard.

  Then she lowered her mouth.

  Minutes later, Black let out a low groan.

  “Fuck...”

  His mind went to Miri––to what she’d done to him his last night in San Francisco.

  The instant he let himself go there at all, every single part of him was at full fucking attention, and not just his cock. It had been months now. Months and months of nothing but frustrating Barrier sex with Miri, not being able to touch her, to even really feel her light much since he didn’t want to get any of this bullshit on her.

  More than that, he couldn’t go far with Miri, not now.

  Not until he talked to her.

  He found himself remembering what she’d done, letting himself go into the memory, something he’d fantasized about for months too––only to be reminded it wasn’t her again as the seer with her mouth on him blew her own light over him.

  He didn’t want her light, though. He didn’t want her body either... or even her mouth.

  He hadn’t been lying about that.

  He was still trying to fight them, fight their light at least, when the human woman moved closer, her hands massaging his shoulders and chest, sliding into his hair.

  He struggled briefly against the chains.

  But really, there was nothing he could do.

  Once the thought really sank in, he fought to close his mind.

  He put all of his focus there, on shutting down everything, closing all of it, so she wouldn’t feel it at least. He could do that much for her, make it so she wouldn’t feel any of what––

  Eight

  BREAKING A PROMISE

  “––DON’T THINK I don’t know what you’re doing right now, Doctor Fox.”

  I snapped back, breathing too hard, fighting my expression still.

  My whole body hurt. I couldn’t move at first––couldn’t breathe. I felt like someone just punched me, hard, in the stomach, leaving me without air. If I’d been alone I think I would have bent in half, gasping with my head between my knees.

  My stomach hurt in that heavy, deep-down way, like I’d eaten bad food.

  I had to fight briefly just to keep from throwing up.

  I don’t know what I looked like for those few caught breaths, but from my end, it was as if time stopped. Like everything just blurred out. The world rotated around me, broken.

  When I could see again, Nick grinned at me, his eyes slightly unfocused.

  He shook a finger at me. “I know exactly what you’re up to, doc...”

  His voice held a distinct slur. Pressing an index finger to his temple and and swiveling it with the same hand that held his beer bottle, he grinned at me, nudging Angel who sat in the red leather booth next to him.

  She was watching me with a different expression on her face. Her eyes studied mine, openly concerned. I fought to smile at her, to normalize my expression, but since I still felt like I might throw up, I’m not sure how successful I was.

  “...You’re not as clever as you think,” Nick smiled at me. “Or maybe you just forget to compensate for those of us who actually know you...” He motioned at Angel, and––less explicably––back at me. “...Those of us with some glimmery... shiny kinds of glimmers. Of your usual m.o., doc. Of your modus. Capiche?”

  I forced myself to smile, to put every last fragment of my mental focus on Nick, on Angel, on the room where my body was actually located.

  Whatever I’d just seen, whether dream or reality, I couldn’t think about it.

  I couldn’t think about that now.

  I just... couldn’t.

  “Glimmery shiny kinds of glimmers?” I pursed my lips in mock puzzlement, arching an eyebrow at Angel. “You been hanging out at the tranny clubs again, Nick, with cousin Haru, listening to him butcher Whitney Houston?”

  Angel burst out in a laugh.

  “Hey.” Nick pointed at me with a mock scowl. “Don’t go dissing Haru. He’s gotten a lot better. Have you heard him sing lately?”

  Angel giggled from next to him, which was unusual enough that I couldn’t help smiling.

  It came close to a real smile that time.

  “Have you?” Nick deman
ded, glancing at Angel when I shook my head. “Angel here used to be in love with Haru, you know...”

  “Guilty as charged,” Angel said, holding up a hand and winking at me before she downed the last of her margarita, sucking the dregs off her ice cubes. “He’s very pretty, doc. You should see him outside a dress... at the gym... pumping iron...”

  “Boy’s got some pipes,” Nick said to me authoritatively, nodding once.

  I burst out in a real laugh that time.

  Grinning and still shaking her head at Nick, Angel motioned with her chin for me to let her out. When I slid out of the booth to accommodate her, I glanced around at the rest of the bar and realized how packed it had gotten compared to when we arrived.

  We were seated in the quietest part of the room, in a line of leather booths along the exposed brick wall, but now people filled all the booths and most of the tables.

  I wasn’t a big bar person, but I liked this one.

  Long blue lights hung from the ceiling like ocean teardrops, and a giant fish tank filled a wide pillar in the center of the room, blocking off some of the noise from the stage, where I knew there’d probably be a live band later since it was Thursday. The bar itself was on the modern end, with neon pink lights dripping down the wall in the back, but the overall space was dark enough that it still had the vibe of a cozy dive more than one of the neon-bright tech bars that dotted most of downtown.

  The fish tank, filled with huge, colorful, saltwater fish, shone its own blue light on our half of the room. That, combined with blue-tinted accent lighting placed strategically in areas of the ceiling and floor gave the room an underwater and strangely insular feel, even with the increasingly loud laughter and talking from the bar’s patrons.

  I glanced at Angel as she regained her feet with a bare hop to straighten her balance.

  Gripping my arm in a friendly way, she leaned by my ear.

  “You okay, doc?” she murmured.

  When she pulled away I nodded, giving her a wan smile. “Just a headache. I’m fine... it’s already going away.”

  Still studying my eyes, she nodded, then looked down at Nick.

  “I’m getting another round. Everybody in?” She pointed at each of us in turn, but barely glanced at Nick to confirm he’d want another of his beer and shot of tequila combination orders. The look she gave me held more of a genuine question. “...Doc?”

  After the barest hesitation, I nodded. “Sure. Let’s make it a night.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Nick said, downing the last of his beer and plunking the glass on the table. “Get her a shot too, Ang, my love.”

  Angel rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t argue.

  Sliding deeper into the booth as she walked away, I moved over on the seat so I wouldn’t have to get up when she got back. Relaxing into the leather, I sighed, realizing that in spite of everything else, I missed this. I missed just hanging out with my friends, being a normal person. It seemed like nothing in my life had been normal at all over the past half-year.

  Shoving Black out of my mind when that sick feeling wanted to return, I focused on the fish tank instead, watching the fish inside undulate and swim peacefully.

  I only turned towards Nick when I felt his stare. I met his gaze and was a little startled to see the degree of concentration that lived there, in his dark brown eyes.

  He was drunk, but still coherent. Which meant his mind would still be sharp.

  Truthfully, I was relieved.

  I was beginning to think I’d have to do this another night.

  Maybe over dinner at my place... or brunch maybe, while we were all nursing hangovers tomorrow. Nick never could turn down a little hair of the dog, and all three of us had the day off.

  I just had to get the timing right.

  Tonight was supposed to be timed right, but it hadn’t been.

  It definitely hadn’t gone how I planned.

  I picked tonight specifically to invite Nick and Angel out because I thought for sure Black would be asleep. His four days were up. Being about nine hours ahead, it was early morning hours where he was. He usually worked nights, not often later than three or four a.m., and slept to around noon when he did sleep. I figured by the time we’d had a few drinks and I worked my way up to talking to Angel and Nick, Black would be out cold.

  Four days seemed to be his limit before the drugs stopped keeping him awake.

  Or maybe after four days, the downsides of being awake outweighed the downsides for being unconscious. Either way, it had been four days.

  Usually when he crashed after one of his four-day stints, he slept like the dead.

  I didn’t even feel him dreaming.

  “You talk to him?” Nick asked abruptly. “Recently, I mean.”

  I jumped a little, feeling caught.

  “Black?”

  Nick nodded, once. His dark eyes continued to study my face. “That joker still call you? Even though he bailed?”

  Hesitating another beat, I nodded. “Yes.” Taking another breath, I leaned closer to him over the dark wood table. “I need to talk to you and Angel about that, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Studying my face a second longer, he scowled. “What if I don’t want to talk about your psychopathic groin buddy, Quentin Black?”

  I lifted an eyebrow, leaning back. “You brought him up, Nick.”

  He settled his muscular weight deeper into his seat, giving me an annoyed wave.

  “I brought him up to satisfy my not-so-idle curiosity as to your status with him. Not to talk about him for the next hour or whatever. Jesus. I’d rather get a root canal.” His mouth curled into a faint frown as he looked over my face. “You know I’m in love with you. You know that... right, Miri?”

  My heart stopped beating in my chest.

  It started up again with a violent jerk. For a few seconds, I could only gape at him.

  His words completely wiped out everything that had been in my mind.

  On the plus side, they also briefly wiped away my fears around Black.

  Once I could think straight again, my mind spun.

  Holy crap. Nick had his own agenda tonight.

  He might have even planned this. Maybe not specifically planned it, since I’d invited him and Angel out, but maybe he’d been waiting for an opening and decided to take it when it came. Maybe he even saw my invitation tonight as an opportunity to lay this on me, assuming he got enough of a buzz going and the moment seemed right.

  Nick and I hadn’t been hanging out as much since Angel first got me to admit that me and Black were seeing each other.

  She’d done that in front of Nick––deliberately, I suspected––probably because Nick told her what happened between us that night all those weeks ago, when we’d both been drunk and Black first took off. But that had been months ago.

  “Nick...” I practically stuttered his name.

  I’d been so focused on why I brought them here, what I’d wanted to talk about. Then the thing with Black I’d seen in my head, what might be happening even now in some dungeon on the other side of the world. Now Nick laying this on me.

  Truthfully, my mind was blank as I returned his gaze.

  I felt completely sideswiped.

  “Look.” He held up a hand, then laid it on my arm, his eyes serious. “Doc... kiddo. Don’t freak out. I’m not trying to scare you. I’m not trying to put you on the spot, either. I just wanted you to know. I want us to talk about it... but later. After you’ve had a chance to think about it. Okay?” He paused, still studying my face. “You’ve got options, Miri. And I’m willing to wait. If you’re still not over that...” Nick’s jaw tightened. “...That guy. Black.”

  I still could only stare at him really. After an awkward pause, I laid my hand on Nick’s where it remained on my arm.

  “I’m still with him, Nick. I’m still with Black.”

  Nick frowned, his expression darkening. “He’s been gone for months, Miri.”
<
br />   “We’re still talking. We’re still together. I’m still with him, Nick.”

  Nick’s face didn’t move, but I could feel the anger coiling around him now. “Why?” he said. “Why are you putting up with this bullshit from that asshole?”

  I shook my head, sliding my arm out from under his fingers.

  I leaned back in the booth. “Nick...”

  “No, seriously. What hold does this fucker have on you? You never would’ve put up with this shit from Ian. I’ve never seen you put up with crap like this from any guy. Why are you putting up with it from that...” His face darkened more. “...That fucking murderer?”

  “He’s not a psychopath, Nick,” I said, sighing. “I know you think he is. But he’s not.”

  “You know people said that about Ted Bundy, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s not Ted Bundy.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Nick,” I said. “I’m a psychologist...”

  “Psychologists defended Bundy, too. I think he was sleeping with one of them.”

  I sighed, knowing he was right about Ted Bundy but completely wrong about Black, but too tired to argue the point.

  Even so, his words actually made for a better segue into what I wanted to bring up with him than anything I’d come up with on my own. I’d been rehearsing ways to raise the topic for days, and Nick just dropped one on my lap.

  “You’re not completely wrong though, Nick,” I began, hesitant. “Not about all of it. There is something different between us... between me and Black, I mean.” I watched his eyes. “You asked what kind of hold he has over me? Well, that’s what I want to talk to you and Angel about. There’s something, well, unusual about our relationship... but it’s not what you think.”

  “If you’re trying to tell me you’re planning to marry that fucker, then spare me, Miri.”

  “Jesus.” Wincing, I glared at him in spite of myself. “Nick... no.”

  “Well, you’re not pregnant.” Pausing, he frowned, his dark brown eyes flickering over me. “You’re not pregnant... are you? Please don’t tell me that piece of shit got you pregnant before he bolted town... after getting you half-killed in Thailand?”