by Joely Skye
Puzzled by Kir’s presence or perhaps by his expression, Sam frowned and asked, “And you are?”
Horton rose. “This is my assistant, Carl Brown. I’m—”
“Mr. Horton,” Sam interrupted. They shook hands before Sam turned to Kir to do the same. Sam frowned when Kir’s hand trembled in his. “I had thought this a one-on-one meeting.” Unlike the other men Kir had recently been instructed to work on, Sam did not appear impressed by Horton.
“Carl, sit down.” Horton pointed to a chair, obviously irritated by Kir’s demeanor. Kir refused to sit, while Horton muttered something about the importance of Kir’s presence.
Sam looked well-dressed, Kir had to admit. What he wore was money. Kir hoped that meant power, because Josh needed someone on his side with power.
Horton turned to Kir expectantly, waiting for his all-important words to act on Sam.
But Kir didn’t want to work on Sam so he spoke without force. “I have something interesting to tell you about Josh.”
Sam’s brows rose. “Oh?”
Horton glanced at Kir, then back at Sam, no doubt looking for the telltale confusion that should have marked this brief manipulation.
None showed on Sam’s face. Kir’s time was running out.
“About my brother?” prompted Sam.
Horton, though wary, adopted a sympathetic expression that put Sam on alert. He glanced between Kir and Horton and his polished exterior cracked a little. He cared about Josh, thank God.
“Mr. Horton,” began Kir and Horton nodded encouragement. “Is holding Josh prisoner while blackmailing—”
Horton reached for his gun.
“Don’t move!” shouted Kir. Horton froze, shaking in anger and confusion, quivering with his hand stuck on his holstered gun.
“What the fuck is going on?” Sam watched Horton’s strange tremors in appalled amazement, then turned to Kir.
“I’m a Minder.”
Sam didn’t react to the news.
“Lock the door,” Kir ordered, pushing a little.
Sam, despite himself, did just that.
“Listen to me. No matter what they say later, you must believe me. Or they will kill Josh. He is being held at the agency, in its core, I believe. You have to get him out, and fast.”
Sam sneered at Kir. “What the fuck are you? One of those woo woo guys you hear stories about?”
“Yes. Get someone to search the agency’s headquarters and you will find Josh at the center. Get there before they kill him.” To Kir’s relief, fear showed on Sam’s face. “You don’t have much time. I counted on you having the resources. Does the name Trey Walters mean anything to you?”
Sam started, the name giving Kir credibility. “Trey’s FBI. He’s been helping me look for Josh.”
FBI? “Trey knows exactly where Josh is.”
Sam went for his cell. Watching Kir the entire time, he called Trey. Turned pale.
Outside, someone tried to open the door. “Mr. Mackay, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” yelled Sam, dialing someone else. “Go away.”
“Mr. Mackay, we have reason to believe—”
Then Sam gave instructions Kir didn’t understand. Something about FBI and agency headquarters. All the while, the man outside insisted ever louder that he be let in.
“Just fuck right off,” bellowed Sam.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The man in the hall broke the window.
“Jesus, that’s not necessary.” Sam turned. “No—”
It was over. Three men rushed the room. Kir stood, expecting a bullet. But perhaps he still had some value, because he was slammed down to the floor by force, face ground into the carpet as they trussed him up and drugged him into oblivion. During the struggle, they dragged Sam from the office, as if arresting him.
Kir had miscalculated. Josh was lost.
Chapter Seven
Josh strode across the hospital room to reach the bed where Kir lay unconscious, wired up to more than one machine.
“What happened?” he asked Sam who trailed behind him.
“I told you,” said Sam patiently. “They almost killed him with the drugs. They were frightened. I couldn’t talk them down.”
Josh sank his face into the crook of Kir’s free arm and he stirred.
“I’m sorry, Josh. He was very brave, standing there to face them.” Sam paused, then added, “The doctors thinks he’ll come round.”
Josh didn’t intend to leave the room until Kir did.
Sam dragged a couple of chairs over. “Why don’t you sit down? You’re exhausted.” He placed the chair beside Kir’s bed and Josh sat where he could hold Kir’s limp hand. He passed a palm over Kir’s head. The agency had shorn his curls.
“He has curly hair,” Josh told Sam.
Sam nodded.
“They’ve treated him very badly.”
“He’s not the only one.” Furious to find Josh imprisoned, Sam had already filed Josh didn’t know how many suits. Something about physical abuse because of the fist fight, though that was the least of Josh’s concerns.
“Can you protect Kir legally?”
“Oh, I think so,” Sam drawled. “It’s no longer possible to keep the agency and their ‘clients’ secret from the general population. The publicity has been Trey’s goal all along and with our help he succeeded.” Sam sounded bitter because Trey had played Sam, pretending he didn’t know where Josh was, when Trey had known everything. “The public knowledge will have consequences. But there is the fundamental issue of human rights.” His voice dropped. “It may be necessary to haul out Kir’s horrible childhood to discredit the agency and its work.”
Josh squeezed Kir’s hand tighter.
They sat in silence for a while and Josh tried to think of how to thank his brother.
“You should have contacted me,” said Sam, still angry about that. “I would have helped you when you were on the run.”
“I didn’t want to drag you into this mess and get you killed.” Josh had made himself believe his brother didn’t care because he couldn’t endanger Sam.
“I would have asked you for help.”
“But you’re my baby brother.”
Sam shook his head. “Believe it or not, I’m an adult. Kir’s age, in fact.”
Josh opened his mouth to thank Sam for saving his life and Sam abruptly rose, cutting him off. “You look skeletal these days. I’m getting us food. I’ll also have a cot brought in, since you’re not leaving him.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“Too late.”
Sam just punched his shoulder affectionately.
Later, after Sam had gone home for the night, Trey came in to visit. To Josh’s dismay.
“How is he?” Trey had betrayed everyone. Except perhaps himself.
Josh didn’t know what to make of Trey’s concern for Kir. “The doctors think he’ll be okay.”
Trey walked over to the bed and looked down at Kir.
“Why bring us in, Trey?”
Trey turned his pale eyes on Josh. “I think it was worth it. If you’d stayed at my safe house, I could have kept better control. But you didn’t.”
“So, you have what you wanted?”
“I’d say so. The agency will be dismantled.”
“Good thing for you and your kind.”
“Good thing for you,” Trey said dryly.
“You can thank Kir for using him when he wakes up.”
Trey didn’t respond to that suggestion. “He doesn’t look much like his sister.”
“You’ve met Maddie?” Josh didn’t hide his surprise.
“I helped her escape, long ago.” Trey gave a hint of a smile, as if reminiscing.
Josh started. “You didn’t join the agency until after Kir escaped.”
“I was plain FBI at that point. Not undercover at the agency.”
Something inside Josh began to boil. “Why would you allow a seventeen-year-old girl to go free a
nd leave her twelve-year-old brother in that hell?”
Trey’s gaze, quiet and assessing, held no guilt or regret. “I didn’t know Kir even existed. They were separated by then. I just met a suicidal seventeen-year-old who thought she could manipulate me.”
“She doesn’t know you helped her?”
Trey shook his head. “I had a soft spot for her. It was all her anger. You’ll have to forgive me. I waited till she left Kir’s apartment before the agency arrived. I could delay that long.”
“You had time to delay, yet you couldn’t warn me.”
“It wasn’t about time. They had you and Kir in their crosshairs, not Maddie.” Trey eyed Josh. “You don’t look too impressed, given that you’re more attached to Kir than his sister. But Kir can adapt. As a teenager, Maddie was breaking.”
“Kir breaks, too.”
Trey briefly shut his eyes in recognition of the truth in Josh’s words. Then he said, “You needn’t fear you’ll see me again. I plan to disappear.”
“Well, I’d better say goodbye then.”
Trey nodded and left the room.
Later that night, Josh crawled into bed with Kir and found Trey’s words echoing in his head. “You don’t break, Kir, okay?” Josh kissed Kir’s cheek. He didn’t answer, just breathed. At least his sleep seemed peaceful. In time, Josh slept, too.
* * *
The nightmares had returned. Black hood over head. Mouth taped shut. He would suffocate. Again. This time his hands were free and yet useless, heavy like lead. He needed to lift them, bring them to his mouth and rip off the tape so he could speak.
“Kir.”
The voice tried to lull him. Kir struggled to understand where he was. Then strong arms and warm breath surrounded him. Someone said, “It’s me, Josh,” and Kir, fearing for Josh more than anything, rose fighting.
“Open your eyes, Kir,” urged the voice. He tried once, twice, before the heavy lids lifted and he was face-to-face with Josh, who held him tightly, as if Kir might try to get away.
Josh’s gray eyes swam with tears. Josh didn’t cry.
Kir blinked, confused, wondering if they were dead.
Josh started kissing him, forehead, cheek, mouth, cheek. Tears dropped on Kir’s face. Kir’s stampeding heart began to subside.
Josh pulled back to look at Kir again.
“Josh?”
“Yup.”
“We’re alive?” Kir asked.
Josh grinned down at him. “Yes.”
Kir looked around and realized he was attached to…something, with tubes and such. “Are we in prison?”
“Nope. We’re just waiting for you to get better. They overdosed you.” Josh’s face clouded at that statement.
“Where’s Horton?”
The grin returned, Josh made ridiculously happy by the question and Kir couldn’t help returning the smile. “Horton is in prison.”
Kir blinked, unable to believe it. “No.”
“Yup. FBI isn’t too happy with him.”
“FBI?” Kir felt slow on the uptake but then Josh kissed him and in the moment he didn’t care.
“They’re closing down the agency.”
“Who will hunt us now?” Kir glanced around, trying to assess their situation. His question had Josh wiping his eyes and Kir felt bad, but still confused and exhausted.
“No one can hunt us now.”
Kir winced. That was a nice dream, but he hadn’t the energy to argue. In fact, his eyes drifted shut, though Josh still held him tight. The rest of the night passed in a blur. Some strangers visited—nurses and doctors concerned about his health—and Josh remained by his side.
He woke enough the next day to urge Josh to flee and Josh responded by cradling Kir’s face in his hands, his expression fierce. “I don’t think you understand—we’re free and I am not leaving you.”
“Josh, I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to get out of here before people realize what I am.”
“No, I don’t. You have rights, Kir.”
“Rights,” he repeated.
“Yes, my brother is going to make sure your rights are recognized.”
The brat? “Why would he do that?”
Josh began to look a little exasperated. “Sam knows I love you.”
Kir realized he was gaping at Josh’s declaration before Josh swooped down to kiss his open mouth. When Josh pulled back, Kir cocked his head. “You love me. You never said that before.”
“It’s a special occasion. Don’t make me repeat it.” The glint in Josh’s eye gave away his deadpan delivery.
“You’re joking.”
“I might repeat it. You never know. Freedom works in strange ways.”
“We’re free.”
“Kir.” Josh appeared pained. “Don’t you believe me?”
“I know, I’m repeating myself.” He lowered his voice. “But I’ve never been free, Josh.”
Josh’s gaze intensified. “You’re not entirely free, babe. You’re stuck with me.”
“That’s a good thing, Josh.”
“Yeah, it is.”
About the Author
Joely Skye is an introvert, a Spooks (MI5) fan, a wife and a mother. One of her favorite books ever is Ellen Kushner’s Swordspoint and, while she doesn’t watch much TV, she couldn’t resist Queer as Folk.
She writes male/male romance. Don’t ask her why. Men fascinate her, as does romance, so gay romance is the perfect fit.
To learn more about Joely Skye, please visit www.joelyskye.com. Send an email to Joely at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Joely. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/joelyskye/
She also writes as Jorrie Spencer (www.jorriespencer.com).
Look for these titles by Joely Skye
Now Available:
Monster
Zombie
Minder
Coming Soon:
Marked
On the streets of old San Francisco,
darkness threatens to consume a vampire’s soul,
and one man’s love is all that stands between good and evil.
Soul of the Night
© 2007 Barbara Sheridan and Anne Cain
Available now at Samhain Publishing
The truth of his vampiric nature a carefully guarded secret, Kiyoshi Ishibe wanders alone in the shadows of the past. Banished from Edo in disgrace, the once famous kabuki actor Ryuhei Nakamura also journeys in loneliness. Both souls find one another in the night, each man filling the emptiness of the other.
But temptation and desire brings out the worst in Kiyoshi, triggering a fascination with the blood of a killer known as the Poisoned Dragon. As this interest quickly spirals into an obsession, everything Kiyoshi and Ryuhei have come to treasure is in danger of being lost…forever…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Soul of the Night:
As it turned out, Kiyoshi’s money went a long way in this small town. They were able to take some of the better seats on the knee-high platform along the inn’s walls, with the nicely polished tables and clean chopsticks. Two bottles of warm sake were brought to them, along with the steamed pork buns as Kiyoshi had promised. The rice wine was just to Ryuhei’s liking, so much so in fact, they drank a third bottle as well.
“You’ll have to be careful with me now.” Ryuhei giggled lightly behind his hand. “Sake tends to loosen more than just my tongue.”
Kiyoshi felt his cheeks color as he glanced down at Nakamura-san’s lap. If anything, it seemed to harden some parts of him.
“You’re just so kind,” Ryuhei cooed, then hiccupped. “You’ve made my stay here so much more bearable—enjoyable I’d even say.” He reached across the low table and patted Kiyoshi’s hand. “I thought you might’ve been a traveling musician when I first saw you.” He smiled, his fingertips tracing the smooth skin on Kiyoshi’s knuckles. “You have such long, graceful fingers. There’s not a callus on them and your nails are so fine. That’s quite unusual for
a farmer.”
“I never said I was a very good farmer,” Kiyoshi replied softly as he turned his hand to lightly clasp Ryuhei’s. He stroked the pad of his thumb across the pulse point on Nakamura’s wrist and felt his own blood stir with the same steady rhythm of the actor’s. He licked his lips, his fangs tingling in his mouth as they tried to extend in anticipation.
Forcing himself to release Ryuhei’s hand, he signaled for the innkeeper. “Perhaps we should see about arranging that room and finishing our drinks in private?”
Ryuhei tilted his head forward to peer seductively up at Kiyoshi through a fringe of dark lashes. “I would like that, Kiyoshi-kun. I would like that very much.”
The innkeeper trotted over and pleased with Kiyoshi’s generosity of payment, dashed off to prepare them a room. Ryuhei stood a bit shakily, dipping a little and murmuring about how “That was good wine.”
He started humming old folk songs about sakura blossoms and the moon, and Kiyoshi thought Ryuhei had a sweet-sounding voice. “Those are pretty songs.” He smiled at Nakamura, standing to help keep the actor steady as the innkeeper returned.
Apparently, Ryuhei’s balance depended more on how close Kiyoshi was than any effect of the liquor. Dropping his arm around Kiyoshi’s waist, Ryuhei didn’t seem quite so tipsy after all. They followed the innkeeper up the wooden staircase that rose over the entrance to the kitchen, heading toward the room that had been readied for them.
“If I still had my shamisen, I could play those songs for you and you could sing them,” Nakamura suggested playfully.
“I don’t know the lyrics; you’d have to teach them to me.”
Ryuhei gasped with mock horror. “But every child learns those songs.”
“Neh…sometimes I forget things like that.” Kiyoshi laughed nervously. He’d been born long before the first versions of those songs had been sung in any country village.
“Oh, Kiyoshi-kun.” Nakamura giggled. “You can remember my performances from ten years ago, but not this?” Ryuhei stopped in the middle of the hallway. “You do remember me, don’t you? You aren’t saying it to be kind?”