Olivier

by TJ Nichols

  Neither of them wanted to like it. Yet it was impossible not to. They writhed together, pushing, demanding. He wanted to feel the bite of Cody’s nails and took too much pleasure in leaving his own marks. Olivier ground his hips against Cody’s, wanting him to come first. A few touches, and Olivier got his way. Cody’s back arched as he gave in. Olivier wrapped his hand around both dicks, liking the slippery feel. A couple of strokes, and he was done. His skin was sticky and his heart beat too hard. Not ten minutes before, he’d been dressed and knocking on the door, wondering why he was there. It was clear now.

  He didn’t move, and Cody didn’t throw him off or kick him out. His lip stung, the scratches on his shoulders were heating up, there were nail marks on his scalp, and he’d never felt better.

  Or worse.

  What kind of fucked-up person slept with the brother of a man he’d killed? It had never happened to him before. It could never happen again.

  “I should get cleaned up.”

  Cody nodded and traced his tongue over his lip. There was a clear cut on it. Olivier had done that. A little part of him was glad he made a mark.

  Words formed on the tip of his tongue. Are you okay? But he pulled away and went into the tiny bathroom. He hadn’t finished before Cody walked in, wanting the shower. Olivier got out. He couldn’t share a shower and pretend intimacy.

  Cody brushed past him and grabbed his forearm. “Should we have been more careful?”

  Olivier held his gaze. They hadn’t done anything that really required caution. Or at least he hadn’t. Cody had put that mouth around Olivier’s cock. That alone would give Olivier some very nice memories.

  “No.” He forced himself to smile.

  Cody’s lips curved. “I have condoms, if you want to stay.”

  He drew in a breath and exhaled as Cody released him and got in the shower.

  “Have you ever killed anyone you’ve slept with?” Cody watched him, but Olivier didn’t need to lie.

  “Not yet.” But he had killed someone who thought they were about to fuck. If Benitez wanted Cody dead, it wouldn’t matter what he wanted. Right then he wanted to stay. “That why you slept with me?”

  Cody tipped his face to the water. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I shouldn’t want you.”

  Olivier unfolded a towel. He didn’t believe in love at first sight. But lust? Yeah, that was a thing. “Same. This can’t happen again.”

  If Cody found out, he’d never forgive him for killing his brother. After everything he’d done, he didn’t deserve forgiveness.

  Cody nodded and turned off the water. “I know.”

  “I’ll stay for a bit.” He should walk out the door. Staying was a mistake, and he didn’t make mistakes. Mistakes got people killed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  OLIVIER KNEW it was a dream even as he lived through it, but he couldn’t break free of its tendrils as they wrapped him tighter. The weight of the dagger in his hand was familiar as he walked through the street and hunted his prey. No one paid him any attention. He had no idea where he was, only that it was the past. Two dark-haired men stumbled out of a tavern. They were laughing and jingling coins. Had they just ripped off some other poor sod with their trickery? Righteous anger flooded him.

  He followed them, and when they stepped down an alley to piss, he struck. He slashed the throat of the first one with a speed and strength that surprised him. That smug smile remained fixed on the dead man’s lips. The twin brother turned to run, but Olivier sliced through the man’s fancy clothes and into his kidney—left then right. The man stumbled, and Olivier cut the strings of his coin purse. It would look like a robbery or even as though the brothers had fought.

  The man tried to cry out, but Olivier kicked him in the face. Bone cracked. When had he gotten so strong?

  He drew the dagger of the dead man and used it to stab the other a few times. His body writhed like a wounded caterpillar. Then he put the knife by the dead man’s hand and returned his attention to the dying man.

  His hands were hot and red with blood, and he laughed as though he’d never had so much fun. Blood trickled into the dirt. “Remember me now? I hope you enjoyed your tricks and games. I hope it was worth it. See you in hell.”

  He took one last look at the brothers who had caused him so much pain—in his dream he didn’t know what they’d done, only that he hated them—but then their features changed. They no longer had dark hair and wicked grins. One of them became Cody, his smile easy and his face calm in death.

  Olivier stepped back, and he was no longer in the alley.

  It was another time, somewhere else. He was female and dripping poison into wine for men who drank like bloated leeches. Brothers. In death they too morphed into Cody and Connor.

  And on it went—blood on his hands and the thrill of killing in his veins. Again and again the people he slaughtered became Connor and Cody in death. He watched as Connor inhaled that fatal line in the cubicle and the pleasure on his face became a frozen mask as he realized something wasn’t right. He fought to get the door open and failed. Olivier woke as Connor’s head hit the floor with a crack.

  He jerked awake and reached for his gun, but instead found the warm body of someone in bed with him. The light was too bright and the shadows too dark and the wrong shape. It took several breaths for reality to make sense.

  The dream always left him confused, so he didn’t know who or where he was. If someone had asked, he’d have struggled to find his own name or to give the year. That only added to the panic. But it would pass.

  Breathe.

  Sweat cooled on his skin as he lay, unwilling to move until he knew his name and whose bed he was in.

  As a kid the dream had terrified him. What kind of person enjoyed killing, even in their dreams? The wash of pleasure was still there, as though it fed some broken part of his soul.

  He fisted his hands. When he was awake, he didn’t enjoy it. He felt nothing, not even remorse. As a child his mother had taken him to see priests. In the end he stopped talking about the nightmare. There was no cure for what was wrong with him. The dream had stopped altogether by the time he started to work for Benitez. Now it was back.

  He was Olivier Merlo, and he was in Cody Anders’s hotel room.

  With a sickening jolt, he realized the dream had changed. In it, every person he killed had become Cody or his brother. Always two. He’d never wondered about that before. But….

  Ice raced through his body. He sat up and eased out of bed. He was not going to kill Cody. That Cody had been in his dream was the result of some kind of fear. His brain was messed up after sleeping with a man who looked like his last target.

  That was all it was. The job was finally getting to him. How long until he couldn’t bring himself to kill at all? Then he would be useless. Dead.

  He shivered as he dressed. It was more than that, he was sure. But he didn’t know what. Part of him didn’t want to know. He was used to being broken, and the idea of being whole hurt.

  Cody rolled over. “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving.” There was no chance he’d get any more sleep. He didn’t want to feel that sick pleasure at killing. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t him. It had never been him, no matter what he dreamed.

  Maybe it was him, a part of him he denied when he was awake. How else could he do his job?

  That he’d had to, to pay his mother’s medical bills, didn’t justify the years he’d spent killing or explain the way he enjoyed the murder of his dreams. His hands shook as he put his gun on.

  “You need to do the same.” He sat on the edge of the bed near Cody but refused to touch him. “You need to go home, where you’ll be safe. I’ve put you in danger being here. If Benitez discovers you exist—” He choked on the rest of the sentence. He’d kill Cody in the end. Always two, just like the dream. No. “Please, promise you’ll go back to Vegas.”

  Cody put his hand over Olivier’s. “Are you okay?”

  No, he was
far from okay. He’d always been damaged. Nothing had ever fixed him. Nothing ever would. “Fine. We both knew this shouldn’t have happened.”

  He’d wanted it, though. It was something he’d never felt before. But it was gone now, drowned in the blood of all the deaths he’d caused.

  “Yeah.” Cody pulled his hand away.

  The loss of contact hurt, even though it didn’t mean anything. It was a casual hookup. He didn’t do them. Yet this time he had, and this was the way it had to be.

  “If things were different….” But they never would be. He would never get a chance to be anything but what he was—what he’d always been, if his dream were to be believed. Did he believe that? “I’ll find out why your brother was targeted by my boss. That’s what you want? Why you’re still here?”

  Cody nodded, but shadows masked his expression. “I need to know why. Lily would like to know why.”

  Olivier blew out a breath. He could tell Cody how, but not why. “I will find out and maybe take a trip to Vegas to tell you.” Another thing that he knew would never happen. It would be a phone call from an untraceable cell phone.

  “You know where I live and work already?”

  “It’s my job to know.” And it was his job to keep Cody safe from himself. He wouldn’t kill him. How many times had he killed Cody in his dream? Ten? Twenty? “Just leave.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “We both know the answer. This isn’t a game, Cody. People get killed all the time. Your father and my boss don’t care who they trample on to get what they want. Your brother got caught up, but you can still walk away.”

  “And you can’t.”

  Olivier shook his head. “I made my deal a long time ago.” He shivered. The cold was deep in his bones, but his birthmark was strangely hot, as though he’d been burned. He meant the deal he’d made with Benitez, yet… the first kills in his dream were always centuries earlier. He’d looked through books as a kid to find the clothing styles.

  Judging by the clothing, the most recent dream took place in the 1920s. The man tied to the chair—one to the head before he died, and his face became Cody’s. His stomach turned.

  “Be careful,” Cody said as though he cared.

  “I usually am.” He kissed Cody’s cheek. “I won’t forget this.”

  He put on his jacket. He was cold to his core, and it had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the dream that had restarted. When he stepped into the hallway and closed the door, he crossed himself. Cody had woken the monster inside him.

  Is that why he’d killed him so many times? Or was murder what had created the monster in the first place?

  OLIVIER LET himself into his sister’s apartment. It was closer to Cody’s hotel than his place, and given that it was three in the morning, he knew she’d be working. He lay down on the sofa, pulled the blanket off the back, and tried to go to sleep. It must have worked, because he was woken by Dani patting his face.

  “Wake now?” Her nose was less than an inch away from his as she peered at him very seriously.

  “Yes. I’m awake now.” His eyes were gritty, and he had no idea what time it was.

  Marie came into view. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I didn’t expect to be here.” Dani tried to climb onto the sofa and onto him. He helped her up with a gentle nudge. If he helped too much, she’d only wriggle down with an indignant “Me do it.” She sat on him and grinned. He had no idea what she wanted. Babies were fickle creatures who had no clear plan.

  “What happened?” Marie sat opposite him, her hair and makeup still done from the night before, but she was wearing yoga pants and a sweater. “I thought your place was safe.”

  “It is. That wasn’t the reason I didn’t go back there.” He’d told himself her apartment was closer, but maybe he hadn’t really wanted to be alone. “I was nearby. I shouldn’t have been.” Dani drummed her feet on his chest. She had no idea how screwed up her mother and her uncle were. He caught her toes, and she laughed. Her life was uncomplicated, but he couldn’t smile at her joy.

  He glanced at his sister. “I was with a mark’s brother.”

  Marie’s eyes widened. “What? Why? No I know why, but why?”

  Olivier shook his head, and Dani mimicked. “No. No. No.”

  “I don’t know.” How did he describe the push to be with Cody? “Remember the nightmare I used to have?”

  “Yeah….” Her gaze flicked between Dani and him as though she expected him to suddenly kill his niece. “Didn’t Mom get a priest to cure you?”

  “I stopped talking about them. They didn’t get better. They stopped when I started working for….” He didn’t say the name. Neither of them wanted Dani to ever accidentally say their boss’s name. “What if it wasn’t possession, but something else?”

  “Like what, you little weirdo?” She smiled as though they were kids and she was teasing him. Sometimes he used to chase after her as though he wanted to kill her. It wasn’t a joke these days.

  “I don’t know. Last night it came back, only every person became this man.” He knew their faces. When he closed his eyes he saw them change as their features softened in death to become Cody.

  Dani inched forward and patted his face. Then she used her thumbs to make him smile. “No sad.”

  He looked at her and forced a smile. She stared at him with her brown eyes. She had no idea what an asshole he was or how many people he’d killed—twenty-three. If he believed his dream, he’d been a killer for centuries. He didn’t even know if he believed in past lives. He’d been raised to believe they only got one, and then it was heaven, or in his case hell, waiting for him.

  “You’re worrying. That’s all. You knew you shouldn’t have been there. You aren’t going to go back?” Marie actually looked concerned.

  He knew it was wrong. “I tried not to go at all.” If Cody hadn’t invited him, he would’ve been able to resist. “What if this all means something?”

  “Not again.” Marie shook her head. “You dream too much. This is it. Our messed-up lives are all we get.”

  “What if it’s not? What if I have been this… person for centuries?” He sat up and put Dani on his lap, but she squirmed away. “What if I’m evil all the way through?”

  Marie scooped up Dani and then kissed Olivier on the forehead. “You aren’t evil. If the devil has slipped into your dreams, it means you need to go back to church.”

  “I can’t. I can’t sit there knowing what I’ve done.” If he’d felt guilty it might have been better. Or if he enjoyed it, he’d know he was demented. Either would’ve been better than the nothing he felt. He was dead on the inside. Or had been dead until last night. Cody made him feel alive. There was heat between them, instead of the burn of ice, and he ran away from it because he was scared it would destroy him.

  Marie made two cups of coffee and carried them over in one hand with Dani on her other hip. “Maybe it’s you who should get out.”

  “No. You have Dani. I have no one.” He sipped the coffee and burned his tongue.

  “You have us and Dad. If you slip up….”

  “I know.” If he messed up, it would be fatal. Maybe he’d already messed up. He hadn’t told Benitez about Cody. “I want to see him again.” He fisted his hand. “Then when I’m there, I know what a fool I’m being. I don’t want to pull the trigger to end his life.” Yet he did. He dreamed it. Always two. The balance was off until he killed Cody.

  “Then you can’t see him. A few more years, Oli. Then you can do what you want.”

  For her that was true. He had to tell her what he’d done. “I asked if I could take your remaining time.”

  “What? Why would you do that?”

  Dani startled, and tears formed at her mother’s sharp tone. Marie bounced her, but Dani didn’t calm. Olivier stood and took his niece. He spun her around and lifted her high.

  “If not for you, then her. Please think about it. He hasn’t said yes.”
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  “You don’t get to plan my life. I need this money until I finish studying. Yeah, I have been making plans for after.”

  Olivier stared at his sister. “I can pay. How much longer do you have to go? What are you studying?”

  “I don’t want your money. I want my own life. I’m going to be a home health aide, like the people who took care of Mom at the end. Like a nurse.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to know, in case I fail.” She bit her lip. “You aren’t the only one worried about what will happen after. I’m not getting any younger. I’ll never find a husband… not sure I want one.”

  Dani grabbed a fistful of his hair and grinned.

  “Ow,” he said in mock pain.

  She tugged harder.

  “Don’t encourage her. I’m the one who has to live with the bad habits you give her.”

  “If he says yes, will you take the offer?”

  “We both know if he says yes, I’ll have no choice. You shouldn’t have asked.”

  “I did it out of love.”

  “And I asked you not to, for the same reason. With your nightmares back, how will you last the rest of your time plus mine?”

  He didn’t tell her that the deal was for double her remaining time. “I don’t know. Stay well away from the man I want.”

  There’d be others. His lust would fade. It should’ve faded already. He’d scratched the itch but all he wanted was more.

  “Men are trouble,” Marie said.

  “Yeah.” He had to agree. But in his experience, women weren’t any better. He suspected the fault was with him. The nightmares were proof that there was something wrong with him. And no one else had ever impacted his nightmare the way Cody had. That couldn’t be a good sign.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CODY TURNED up the collar of his coat. It didn’t make much difference because the wind snuck through any gap. He was looking forward to getting out of the cold. Lily had asked to meet him at Central Park to say goodbye. She actually called and spoke to him and was very specific that it was goodbye. Cody wondered if that was for the benefit of whoever was listening or if she meant it. It had been an odd, short call. She could’ve said goodbye then, but she didn’t. She asked why he hadn’t been at the will reading and he mumbled some excuse about not causing trouble when no one wanted him there. She knew he wasn’t going, so it was odd that she asked.