by Jamie Craig
"Get rid of him for you? Gideon is not a trained attack dog, John." Jesse ran his hand through his hair. "Is he a human?"
"Well, if I knew who or what he was, I'd take care of him myself, now wouldn't I?"
"Yes, I suppose that's true. I'm assuming that this...whoever it is, is not just buying up all the really firm tomatoes at the farmer's market."
"No." John's cheerful smile faded, something dark settling behind his eyes. A shiver ran through Emma even before he spoke. "He's stealing body parts. From graveyards."
"So you want Gideon to find a grave robber and get rid of him, because he's zeroing in on the prime body parts that you want. And you think Gideon is going to agree to this?"
"I think you're going to convince him, yes."
Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose. Judging from the growing tension, Emma expected Jesse to tell him there was no deal. Instead he said, "I'm not a miracle worker, John."
"And yet, you'll try. Because you are an intelligent man, Mr. Madding, and better the devil you know than the one you don't, am I not mistaken?"
"You don't have to give me the details, John, but I'm not going to try anything unless I know that whatever you're up to is not going to create more work for us in the long run. I don't want to find myself visiting you again under less pleasant circumstances."
It was like watching a tennis game, with players equally matched. Emma's head swiveled to see John's reaction, but again, he appeared completely unruffled by Jesse's demands.
"Would you like my word?" he said. "You're welcome to it. But I've already said, this is a personal project. Its effects will not be felt outside these walls. You've nothing to fear from me. But heed your Disraeli, because I can't assure you that my rival can say the same thing."
"Gideon will find that infinitely comforting," Jesse muttered, standing. "I'll call you tomorrow morning with his decision. If my powers of persuasion are as good as you're giving me credit for, I'll need more details."
Emma rose as well, hanging back as John led them back to the door. "Impress upon him that this clears your debt to me," he said when they stood on the front step. "And that I didn't even take affront that you brought an empath to our meeting without introducing her as such." He took her hand in his, bowing to brush a kiss across her knuckles. "Though it was certainly my pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear. Perhaps I shall see you some time at the Institute."
"Perhaps," she murmured, too shaken by the fact that he'd known all along what she was.
"I'll make sure he knows that," Jesse said, shaking John's hand. "I'll call tomorrow."
She followed Jesse back to the Jeep, his anxiety still readily apparent to her, but it had shifted at this point. He wasn't nervous about John any more, but he clearly had his reservations about discussing the meeting with Gideon.
"Grave robbing," he finally muttered as he put the truck into drive. "Grave robbing. Can you believe it?"
She looked at him, trying to figure out how to respond. "Um...no?"
"You know, there's no good magic that requires pieces of corpses. Gideon does not know much about magic, but even he will see this as the problem it is." He glanced at her. "I actually take John at his word. I don't think he's going to hurt anybody with whatever he's doing. But Gideon will not be so charitable."
"Well, if it helps at all, he believed every word he said," Emma volunteered. "Maybe I can show that to Gideon."
"I think I should talk to him alone."
The directness of his assertion made her retreat, turning to look out the window as he drove away from the house. If ever she needed proof that she wasn't really a part of their world any more, this was it. Jesse was completely devoted to Gideon, worshiped the ground he walked on. Any crush she might be harboring for either of them was better left ignored.
"You can probably just drop me off at home then," she said carefully. "Save you a trip later on."
"Oh. Okay. Are you sure?"
No, she wasn't sure, but considering the circumstances, Emma knew she didn't have a choice. "Ethan was talking about going out again tonight anyway." She affected her best smile. "After how well last night turned out, it'd be nice to see if I can do it again."
"That sounds like fun," Jesse said, politely. He sounded normal, but the sudden slam of emotion was anything but. Annoyance, frustration, dislike--maybe even something stronger than that. "Same club?"
"Yes," Emma replied automatically, but her mind was already whirling to try and fathom out his unspoken response. She blurted the next without thinking. "Don't you think I should go?"
Jesse looked up sharply, his eyes dark. "Are you reading me? I thought you weren't going to do that."
She was rarely on the wrong end of Jesse's mood. In fact, Emma could count on one hand how many times he'd snapped at her since they'd found her sister. So when it happened, it always took her by surprise.
"I...I wasn't...I didn't mean to," she stumbled. "I'm sorry. I was so wrapped up in the fact that John knew what I was that I forgot to turn it off. It just happened."
Jesse sighed. "Emma, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I know that you didn't mean anything by it. And I don't think you shouldn't go. I know that it means a lot to you to be able to go out like that. It makes you happy."
She wanted to reach over and touch him. She wanted to feel his arms pull her in close, and she wanted to bury her face in his chest and never leave. She wanted to tell him that her happiest memories were of times she spent with him and Gideon, but she knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear.
"I won't do it any more," she promised. Deliberately, she erected the walls she'd been taught, focusing on her breathing as the rush of outward emotions ebbed. "I'm getting stronger about blocking things out every day. It's only a matter of time before it's automatic, like Ethan said it would be."
"You can," Jesse said slowly. "I mean, warn me first."
Though she nodded, Emma knew she wouldn't. Not unless he specifically asked her to, like he had with Black John. She needed Jess, and the last thing she would ever do was risk losing him.
She had lost so much in her life already. Whatever it took, she refused to add Jesse or Gideon to the list.
Chapter 4
* * *
Jesse stared at the notes on his desk without really seeing them. The cold gyro sat next to his hand, untouched. Gideon was in his office, but the door was closed. Jesse didn't know if he should bother to knock. He needed to figure out a way to tell Gideon what happened that afternoon. Blunt truth was probably his best bet, but no matter what he did, he had to brace himself for at least an hour of fighting. Which would be more like Gideon ranting and Jesse listening until he wore himself out.
Which actually sounded more appealing than sitting here and thinking about Emma. And Ethan. And the way he had snapped at her. But she'd startled him. He'd become lax around her, not doing anything to hide his own emotions because she had assured him she could now respect his privacy. What had she picked up from him? If it was only his dislike for Ethan, he'd count himself lucky.
Things hadn't always been like this with Emma. When did everything start to get weird?
And speaking of weird, what was Gideon trying to tell him? He kept replaying their two conversations about Emma and Ethan over in his mind, and they still didn't make sense.
He picked up his pencil and started doodling on the paper. Larger and larger circles on the yellow legal pad. Emma would be getting ready for her date now. Gideon would want to know where they went that afternoon. John was waiting for his phone call. Jesse wished he could put everything on hold, check out, worry about it later.
The sudden opening of Gideon's door startled him from his reverie. His head snapped up, but Gideon's was bowed, scowling as he peered at the refolded map in his hand.
"Do we have another map of Wisconsin anywhere?" he asked. "I spilled my blood all over this one, and now I can't see any of the red roads."
Jesse might not have laughed, but Gideon sounded so si
ncerely upset. "Yeah," he said, gasping for breath. He crossed over to the file cabinet, his shoulders still shaking. "Yeah, right here."
Gideon took it without looking up, tucking the stained one beneath his arm as he unfolded the new one into the same configuration. He then held the two maps side by side, his eyes flickering back and forth.
"I knew that was a road," he muttered. "Thanks."
Jesse sobered as Gideon turned back to his office, obviously intent on leaving him alone again. Alone with his thoughts.
"Do you need any help?"
"Nah. It's just busywork at this point." He glanced up, half in, half out of his office. "Are you looking for something to do? Because there's a whole stack of books in here I don't remember being there when I laid down for my nap."
Jesse beamed at him. "They're yours now. Do you like them?"
"Weren't they mine when I paid for them last night?"
"Technically." Jesse walked over to Gideon and rested his hands on his hips. "I'm not really looking for something to do." He kissed Gideon's neck, and then scraped his teeth along the firm skin.
He felt the definite rise of Gideon's cock against his thigh, but as Gideon sighed and tilted his head to the side, giving Jesse more room to lick, the words that came out of his mouth made Jesse pause.
"And here I thought you were still all wound up about Emma."
Jesse exhaled against Gideon's skin, but he didn't pull away. "I don't think I'll have to tell her how I feel about Ethan. She accidentally got a big old dose of that this afternoon."
Gideon straightened at that, his dark eyes searching when Jess met them with his own. "Did you do as I suggested and go talk to her?"
"No. She brought lunch by while you were downstairs." Jesse looked away. "But we didn't really have occasion to talk about it."
"You should have. She deserves to know how you feel. You both do."
Jesse rested his head on Gideon's shoulder, feeling exhausted. "Why?"
"Because I don't think either one of you would argue too much if one of you made a move to change our relationship. Which says a lot."
"Would you?" Jesse straightened so he could study Gideon's face. He still didn't quite know what Gideon was getting at, but he felt a sudden red flare of fear. And he wasn't even sure what he was afraid of. "Would you argue if somebody made a move to change our relationship?"
A strong hand came up to the back of Jesse's neck and held him still, the grip comforting in how inescapable it was. "Emma isn't just somebody," Gideon said. "I've told you that."
Jesse blinked. "No. She's not just somebody. Would you argue if..." He couldn't even believe he was going to ask the question. "Would you argue if I wanted to change our relationship? If I wanted to change things between the three of us?"
"I wouldn't argue with anything if I thought it was going to make you happy." His mouth twitched. "Last time I tried that, you threatened to walk out on me."
Jesse didn't plan to do any such thing, but somehow, knowing how Gideon felt seemed to take a large weight from his mind. The fantasies he concocted and indulged in wouldn't be so painted with guilt, for one thing. He still shouldn't be thinking about Emma like that, but he didn't have to deal with the added question of what would Gideon think.
"I guess I shouldn't tip my hand with assurances that I would never walk out on you," Jesse murmured.
"You couldn't anyway," Gideon teased back. "I've figured out which chains are your favorites. I put you in that doggy spreader and you go putty in my hands."
His cock twitched at the thought of the spreader. "No, I don't," he protested.
A calculating gleam appeared in Gideon's eye. "Care to bet on that? Let's say I go put you in there right now. If I don't have you screaming by the time I come, I'll drop this whole issue with Emma."
It was a sucker's bet. Jesse knew it. He would probably be screaming long before that. But this was one of the rare bets when everybody would come out a winner. "You're on."
Abruptly, Gideon let him go. "Five minutes. In the playroom. Leave your clothes in the apartment. Any preparation you want, you do it then. Because you won't get it once I close the playroom door."
Jesse didn't waste time with another word. When Gideon said five minutes, he meant it. Jess had his shirt unbuttoned before he reached the stairs, and was half naked by the time he reached the apartment. His clothes were left in a forgotten heap on the floor somewhere between the living room and the bedroom. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him he still had three minutes. Jess imagined Gideon upstairs, getting the spreader bar, choosing his toys. What would it be today? The paddles? Something blunt? Sharp? Whips? He rarely guessed correctly. It was impossible to predict Gideon's moods.
Jesse poured lube over his fingers and reached around, sliding two fingers into his ass. He slicked himself, but he didn't bother with stretching to prepare for Gideon's cock. On the one hand, it would help him win the bet if he was better prepared. On the other hand, it would be more fun this way.
He hurried back up the stairs and was inside the playroom with thirty seconds to spare.
The spreader waited in the middle of the floor, an innocuous piece of black metal that would cuff Jesse's wrists next to his ankles, forcing him to stay on his knees, either kneeling or bent forward to scrape the floor with his chest. At the weapons cabinet, Gideon stood with his back to the door, pulling out first a paddle, then a whip, before tossing them aside. He'd removed his shirt, and his muscled shoulders rippled with every flex of his arm, the skin so pale and flawless that Jesse's mouth watered.
"Get in position, boy," Gideon said without glancing back.
Jesse dropped to his knees, never taking his eyes off Gideon. Just the tone of his voice was enough to make Jesse forget everything that existed outside of that room. Beside the bar was the silver cock ring chained to nipple clamps. Gideon was not going to play fair, obviously. Not that Jesse expected him to. He secured the ring at the base of his shaft, his balls throbbing as soon as he snapped it into place. With a deep breath, he attached the clamps to his nipples, and then placed his wrists and ankles over the bar, prepared for Gideon to lock him into place.
"You know what you haven't done lately?" The casual tone of Gideon's voice was punctuated by the sudden crack of a whip. Jess jumped, scraping his skin against the iron spreader. "Bled for me."
Jesse shivered. Definitely not playing fair. He knew the smell and taste of his blood would only rouse Gideon to new heights, would only push him further. "No, I haven't," he agreed softly. "But I would like to."
"Like to?" Gideon finally turned around, and Jesse's balls tightened when he saw the fangs and ridges in full prominence. He recognized the whip that dangled from Gideon's hand as well. It was the one they'd stolen from a dangerous vampire dealing drugs to the demon world, a single-strand weapon with a tail so filament-fine that it cut in narrow ribbons with each and every lash. Jesse would bleed from it all right, but only in rivulets. It would take dozens upon dozens of strokes to get as much blood that Gideon could swallow in a single bite. "That's a little noncommittal, don't you think?"
Jesse licked his dry lips. It had been noncommittal, almost to the point of indifference, calculated to get a rise out of Gideon. "I want to bleed for you. I want you to make me bleed."
With long, lazy steps, Gideon came to his side, letting the tip of the whip drag along his arm before crouching down. "You're going to bleed, all right," he murmured, his yellow eyes locked on Jesse's as he snapped the first of the manacles into place. "Did I forget to tell you you're dinner?"
Jesse's eyes widened, his heart jumping into triple time. Gideon's nostrils flared, and Jesse knew he could smell his arousal with faint traces of fear. His skin felt hot, and the freshest bite mark on his neck throbbed. He put his hand up to touch it, but Gideon caught his wrist and forced it back down, the iron grip of his fingers replaced with the tight manacle.
"No, you didn't mention that," he whispered.
"It's been awh
ile since we've done that, too."
Gideon moved to his opposite side, clamping both ankle and wrist into position. Straightening, he placed his foot between Jesse's shoulder blades and pressed down, forcing Jess to bend at the waist. A low chuckle filled the room.
"Did you stretch yourself, boy?" Gideon asked. Jesse shivered as he dragged the whip along the crack of his ass, glancing over his slick hole. "Or are you hoping I'll tear into you there, too?"
"Didn't stretch myself," Jesse answered, intent on forming full sentences for as long as he could. But even now, his blood was rushing from his head, and soon he'd be reduced to single syllables and moans. "Wanted to be tight for you," he added, his voice muffled against the floor.
Gideon's growl made his skin flush. "So your ass is the perfect fit for my cock. As it should be."
The high whistle of the whip was followed almost immediately by a slice of fire across Jesse's back. The air vanished from his lungs, but before his body could otherwise react, a second stroke cut across the first.
"Should we count?" The amused contemplation in Gideon's voice made Jess wonder if he was expecting a response. "I think that might be an excellent idea. It'll help you stay focused." A third lash, this time higher, catching the sides of his ribs, was followed by the harsh demand, "Start with three, boy."
"Three," Jesse wheezed, the air rushing from his lungs. He barely had the chance to snatch another breath before the whip came down over his shoulders. "F...four."
He tried to look over his shoulder to see Gideon's face, but he stepped out of view. But Jess could imagine his yellow eyes, shining with bloodlust, his cock a large bulge in his pants, his muscles flexing with each graceful movement.