Acceptance

by Grace R. Duncan

  The limo rolled to a stop in the courtyard in front of the house, pulling Miles’s attention back to their task. He had to remember to wait for the driver, but only a few moments later, they were approaching the front door of the mansion. Quincy held his hand firmly, making it quite clear what they were to each other. Miles wasn’t sure if that was the best idea, though he did appreciate it. He was still dealing with a bit of jealousy from earlier.

  As they’d been getting ready to go, Quincy had decided the best way to help camouflage Chad and Jamie was to put his scent all over them. Chad had wrinkled his nose but recognized the importance of not smelling like a wolf around the other cats. So he’d agreed to let Quincy scent-mark him.

  Miles hadn’t expected the surge of jealousy that had hit when he watched Quincy marking them. He was used to the smaller spikes of jealousy now and again, though Quincy seemed to go out of his way to make sure he didn’t put himself in a situation to cause it. Even so, this one hit him hard, and Miles knew he was being ridiculous. They were dressed, for Diana’s sake, but it didn’t seem to help to tell himself that. What did help, though, was having Quincy come mark him right after.

  Now all three of them smelled enough of cat to confuse the senses. Chad had made a comment about stinking, which Quincy had flipped him off for, making everyone laugh. Now Chad and Jamie hung back so the four of them didn’t appear together, getting a little lost in the others coming into the party.

  As Miles and Quincy went through the door, it was to be stopped by a man taking invitations. Quincy smiled—and Miles hoped he was never on the receiving end of it. It was downright creepy. “Please inform Mr. Thomas that Quincy Archer is here.”

  The human looked down his nose at them, but turned to another man with him in the same suit-and-tie uniform and whispered something in his ear. The second man left while Mr. Haughty stood over them, smirking.

  The smirk turned to a scowl when Abraham Thomas himself approached. He didn’t look much like his driver’s license picture. His hair was quite a bit whiter, he had more than a few more lines in his face, and the picture didn’t have the creepy, fake smile on his face that was there now. Miles had also expected him to be taller somehow.

  “Quincy! Welcome! That’s quite all right, Simmons, thank you.” He turned to Quincy again, holding out his hand.

  Quincy shook it. “Good to see you, Mr. Thomas,” he said, smiling.

  Miles had to admire the hell out of his mate in that moment. He had the brief thought that Quincy ought to be on Broadway with a performance like that. That smile looked downright genuine.

  Thomas’s wasn’t nearly as good, but he still held a hand toward the open doors on the left. A huge crystal chandelier lit a long, narrow ballroom, sparkling off champagne glasses, satin dresses, and an absurd number of diamonds adorning necks and ears. Highly polished marble tile led up to the small dais in the corner, holding a string quartet.

  Miles pulled his attention back to Quincy and Thomas. “Mr. Thomas, allow me to introduce my partner, Dr. Miles Grant.”

  It took all Miles had to smile politely and shake the man’s hand. He wanted to bite it, but resisted the urge to let his canines drop. “Nice to meet you,” he managed to say instead.

  “And you, Doctor.” Thomas turned to Quincy with a barely concealed sneer. “Quincy, I wasn’t aware you were… interested in men.”

  Quincy smiled—again frighteningly well-acted. “Well, of course, one in my position is encouraged to put our own interests aside for the good of the… group. So, I haven’t exactly made it well-known.”

  Thomas inclined his head. “Indeed.”

  Miles caught a glimpse of Chad and Jamie in the entryway. He turned back to Quincy and Thomas. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take a few moments.”

  “Of course. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Grant.” Thomas smiled that same grating smile again.

  “And you. I’ll be back shortly,” Miles said to Quincy.

  “See you soon.” Quincy turned to Thomas. “So, Mr. Thomas, please tell me how you’ve been. I’m afraid I’ve been out of the loop.”

  Miles had to force himself to walk slowly as he left the ballroom and caught up with Chad and Jamie. “Any trouble?”

  Chad shook his head. “Barely looked at the invite.”

  Miles rolled his eyes. “Mr. Haughty tried not to let us in. Quincy ought to win an Oscar. Anyway, let’s see what we can do. If I have to stay here too long, I’ll get hives.”

  Jamie snorted. “Not my cuppa either. You go with Chad to the study. I’ll see what I can find on the rest of this floor, since there doesn’t look like a lot of rooms not occupied.”

  It turned out to be easier than either expected to get to the office. Guests filled the hall, spilling into the ornate dining room, the billiard room, and one that appeared to be a music room with a grand piano in one corner, currently silent. The last door along that hallway before it turned toward the kitchen was their target. Miles was relieved when the knob turned easily. They slipped into the room, Chad watching the hallway, but no one seemed to notice them.

  Miles had been right about the room’s purpose. Bookshelves lined three of the walls. The fourth held an enormous marble fireplace, currently dark. Thick burgundy carpet covered the floor and leather, high-back armchairs sat in front of the fireplace. They hurried over to the desk first. The bookshelves behind it had cabinets from waist height down, so Miles went to those.

  Unfortunately all it had was common office supplies, more books, and a few other mundane things. Disappointed, he moved to the next, but again, nothing but bottles of liquor and boxes of cigars. Miles wrinkled his nose and stood.

  “Hey,” Chad whispered.

  Miles went over to the desk to see what Chad had. “This look familiar?” he asked, holding up a copy of the picture Quincy had received in Maryland.

  “Well, hell. That at least proves he was involved in the attack on me. There’d be no other reason or way for him to have that,” Miles said as Chad flipped it over to see a message at the bottom. A.T.—Witt will take care of it tonight.—P.S.

  “Bingo,” Chad said, handing the picture over. He closed that drawer and moved to another.

  Miles went around to the other side, but all this had was pens, a notepad, and in the bottom drawer, a decanter of scotch and a glass. “Nothing,” he reported.

  “Yeah, same here.” He stood and looked around. “I don’t see him hiding shit in the books, not if he left this in his drawer.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  “And there’s nowhere else here. Let’s see if Jamie found anything, then we’ll figure out how to get upstairs.”

  JAMIE HAD come up empty-handed, though. All the other rooms on that floor were being used for the party, including another parlor and a receiving room. They found a set of servant’s stairs in one corner of the main house and made their way through the bedrooms on the second floor. Unfortunately, yet again, they found nothing. Each of the guest bedrooms had a desk and side table, all of which were empty. And Thomas’s bedroom had a disgustingly rich and huge closet, too many watches and other pieces of jewelry, but nothing of interest, even in his bedside tables.

  “We need to get out of here. I’m pretty sure our luck is going to run out soon,” Chad whispered.

  Jamie slapped a hand over Chad’s mouth. “Don’t jinx us!” He shook his head.

  Chad snorted and led the way back to the servant’s stairs. They made it to the first floor without incident, and Chad and Jamie went out into the garden to call for the driver. Miles went in search of Quincy.

  He found his mate still talking to Thomas, and a man Miles recognized as Charles Ross from the driver’s license picture. “Miles! I’m glad you’re back. What took so long?”

  Miles chuckled. “I’m afraid I got a bit lost. Ended up outside, then took a wrong turn when I came back in.”

  “Easy enough to do here,” Ross said. “Still think Abe ought to find something a bit smaller.”


  Thomas ignored him, and Miles had the feeling it was an old discussion. “Miles Grant, this is Charles Ross, another member of Quincy’s group,” he said, waving toward Ross.

  Ross looked quite a bit younger than Thomas did, and Miles wondered about that. If he looked closer, though, threads of silver ran through the dark hair and the lightest of lines surrounded the deep blue eyes. Miles forced himself to smile and shake the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He turned to Quincy. “I’m sure we should probably not steal all of Mr. Thomas’s time. He does have other guests.”

  Quincy smiled at him. “Of course. Wonderful to catch up with you.” He turned and nodded to both Thomas and Ross.

  “Do enjoy the rest of the party,” Thomas said, and he and Ross left.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Quincy muttered.

  “Chad and Jamie are in the garden, calling for the car.”

  “Good. Did you find anything?”

  “Not as much as we hoped, but I think it’s something. Let’s get to the car,” Miles suggested.

  Chapter 16

  SEEING THE picture again, knowing it was in Thomas’s hands, and reading the message that confirmed Thomas had ordered the hit made Quincy want to go right back into the house, pull his SIG out, and just shoot Thomas then and there. He was glad they were well on their way back to New York when Chad handed him the photo.

  Quincy took a deep breath. “This is all you found?”

  “Unfortunately. Whatever messages are being passed between them are either not there or have been destroyed. There was a fireplace in the study, and I suspect that’s where they went.” Chad sighed.

  “Well, it was a long shot. This, at least, proves his part in Miles’s attack. That’s still not something to ignore.”

  Chad nodded. “No, that’s true. And we do have bank records that tie him—even loosely—to the wolves in Denver and the one in New York.”

  “So, what now?” Miles asked.

  “Now, we talk to my father. I think it’s time to go to the tepey-iret.”

  “Is this enough for that?” Chad asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t see us getting anything more, not without taking risks I don’t think we should take.” Quincy shook his head.

  “Well, let’s see what your father says. You know… if nothing else, maybe we could get him on the secrecy thing,” Chad suggested.

  “I thought about that. It doesn’t take care of Ross, but at least it’ll get Thomas out of the picture.”

  “Maybe the bank records will be enough to convince your tepey-iret that Ross was involved,” Jamie said.

  Quincy frowned. “Maybe. He’s a fair man, though. I don’t think he’d want to punish someone without being sure.”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see on that,” Miles said. “First, your father.”

  QUINCY JUST wanted it all over. He was tired of investigating and research and hunting and all of it. He wanted to go back to selling information and drawing pictures. Especially since he hadn’t picked up a pencil in almost four months. He wanted to spend quiet nights with his mate, curled up under the stars in their animal forms. He wanted the freedom to claim Miles and be able to let go of all of this.

  They decided to wait until the next day to contact Quincy’s father. It was already late, and they wanted a chance to talk it out a little more first, anyway. So they tucked the picture away, and they focused on getting to the hotel.

  But when they got back to the room, they realized they were all a little too tired to try to hash it out that night. Quincy didn’t think he was tired enough to sleep, though, and thought about spending the rest of the evening in the bedroom with Miles. He’d just turned to say as much when his phone went off. He frowned at the unknown number, but opened the text message.

  Tried to hire me again. Said no. Hired someone else. Doc’s the target. Watch your back.—P

  Quincy blinked at the message, momentarily at a loss as to who it was from. And why were they sticking their tongue out at him? It took him a full minute to figure out that wasn’t a smiley, but was the person’s initial. Payne. Tweedle Dee. Warning them.

  Thomas and Ross had apparently not appreciated his appearance at the party. Did they know the picture was missing?

  Quincy wasn’t sure, but there was no way they were leaving the room now. He’d requested the one they had for one major reason: there was one way in and one way out. The windows didn’t open and were triple-paned and thick. No one was getting through them without warning.

  He stared at the message for several moments, until Miles came up and touched his shoulder. “Baby? You okay?”

  Quincy sighed. “Not really. I don’t think I’m going to be okay until it’s all over.” He shook his head, paused long enough to send a reply of TY, and handed the phone to Miles.

  Miles read the text message, his eyebrows going up. “P?”

  “Payne. A.k.a. Tweedle Dee.”

  “Tweedle Dee?” Chad asked, coming up to them.

  Miles handed the phone over. “Payne.”

  “Aw, fuck. I was hoping we’d have more time.” Chad sighed. “Well, I think the best bet is to stay put for now. This place is about as secure as it gets.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” Quincy wrinkled his nose. “On the other hand, it’s one door. No one’s going to stop someone coming up to this floor. If they get through it…. Fuck.” He frowned, looking around.

  “Why not keep watch?” Jamie asked.

  Quincy blinked. “Watch?”

  Chad nodded. “Not a bad idea. We’ll take shifts for now. Jamie and I can go first. We’ll stay out here, one sleep for a couple of hours, then switch off. That way we’ll at least hear anyone trying to get in.”

  Miles nodded. “That will work.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s midnight now. Come get us at four?”

  “That works.” Jamie sighed and went straight for the iPad. “I’m thinking… espresso….”

  Quincy chuckled. “Thanks, that makes me feel better.”

  “This is going to end soon,” Chad said. “Just hang in a little longer.”

  “Yeah.” With a sigh, Quincy turned to Miles. “Come on. I have something to talk to you about.”

  “Uh-oh. Did I leave my socks on the floor?” Miles asked.

  Chad laughed and Jamie snickered.

  Quincy chuckled and took Miles’s hand. “Not exactly.”

  When they were in the bedroom, Quincy turned around. “I want us to claim each other.”

  Miles blinked. “Uh… I do too, but didn’t we say we were going to wait until this was over?”

  Quincy nodded. “We did. But this—” He held up his phone. “—this makes me want to reconsider that. I….” He took a deep breath. “If anything happens to you… it’s not going to take a bond for me to not want to be without you.”

  Miles stared at him for a long moment. “You remember what I told you?”

  “Yes.” Quincy stepped a little closer. “I’m well aware of what could happen to me if you died.”

  Miles cupped one of Quincy’s cheeks. “Maybe we should just strengthen what’s there for now.”

  Quincy frowned. “Do you want to wait? Are you worried about me dying?”

  “Oh hell no.” Miles shook his head fast. “No, no. I mean, yes, there’s still that fear. But… if something happens to you, well, I feel the same way as you do.” He blew out a breath. “I’m just worried about you, baby. I’m hoping you could handle being alone better than I could.”

  “Before you? Yes. Now?” Quincy shook his head. “I don’t think so. The bond we do have is too strong, I think. It’s not like we haven’t gone out of our way to strengthen it.” He smiled.

  Miles grinned. “True. Very true. If you’re sure….” He took a deep breath. “Then I’d like that. I’d like it very much.” He paused. “Hey, uh, where do you bite when you claim a mate?”

  Quincy frowned. “I’m not sure? When I topped the first time,
my cat was pushing me to bite the back of your neck. I don’t know if it has to be there, though.”

  “I think I can work with that,” Miles murmured, pulling Quincy in. “I know it can be anywhere for us. Usually the shoulder, here,” he said, running his finger teasingly under Quincy’s collar. “But it could be… here too.” He lifted Quincy’s hand and brushed his lips over Quincy’s inner wrist. “While your cock is buried inside me.”

  Quincy refused to put a name to the sound he made over that. His dick hardened, his vision turned gray, and his teeth dropped almost at once.

  “You’re so hot like that,” Miles whispered, leaning in. Skipping Quincy’s lips, he kissed his way along Quincy’s jaw. He pushed his hands up, threading his fingers into Quincy’s hair, nibbling softly at the soft skin just above his collar. “I love you, Quincy Archer.”

  This time Quincy would openly admit he whimpered. His heart skipped a beat and he swallowed. “I love you, Miles Grant. So much.” Quincy closed his eyes, sliding his hands up over Miles’s chest.

  Miles kissed his way back along Quincy’s jaw, then caught his lips in a long, thorough kiss. When he pulled back, Quincy saw Miles’s eyes had bled black and his teeth had dropped. It never failed to get him going when he saw his mate like that. Miles reached up and gently removed Quincy’s glasses. “Don’t want to mess these up.” He set them on the bedside table, then turned back.

  Slowly, he slid his fingers along the edges of Quincy’s jacket and eased it down over his shoulders and off. He laid it over a nearby chair, then lifted one of Quincy’s hands. Kissing the inner wrist, he took the cuff link out, then did the same with the other arm.

  Quincy was stunned by the slow seduction. He and Miles had taken it slow before, but nothing quite like this. But it fit, was what they both needed, especially for this.

  Miles turned his attention next to Quincy’s shirt, and the incredibly slow button-kiss pace had Quincy almost insane by the time Miles pushed it off Quincy’s shoulders. He went for the pants next, but Quincy stopped him, putting a hand over the one at his waist.