by JL Merrow
She didn’t get there. Halfway down Main Court, she saw Crack—and Julian. They were walking side by side like a couple of poster boys for anorexia. Jools looked a bit like a startled rabbit, but Crack gave a big grin when he saw her.
“Hey, Tiff! Look who I found in the Plodge.”
“Jools!” Tiffany wrapped her arms around him. God, he felt even skinnier than before. If he lost any more weight, he’d just be a bag of bones, like Crack. Maybe they both should go around to Dr. Pawlaczek’s for a bit of Marje’s cooking. “What were you doing out here on your own? Are you all right?”
“I was coming to see you,” he said quietly. “I wanted to ask… what you said before. Do you still think it is true?”
“You mean about….” Tiff broke off, her gaze flicking to Crack. “I don’t….” She came to a decision. “Yes. You need to talk to each other, okay? Come on, I’ll walk you to the staircase.”
Jools gave a faint smile. “I made it across town on my own. I think I can manage Main Court.”
“Don’t be a prat. Crack, do you mind? I sort of need to talk to Jools alone.”
Tiff took Julian’s arm as Crack melted away like a well-brought-up shadow. “Now look, he’s got this big thing that he’s, um—well, he’s not been making a lot of sense, but he seems to think you’re upset about him”—she lowered her tone—“you know, killing Boris.”
He didn’t answer. Tiff stopped dead, her hold on his arm meaning that he did too. “Jools?”
“It was the only thing he could have done.” Jools gazed off into the distance. “If Boris had killed him, I would have died too.”
Tiff didn’t think he was just being melodramatic. “You think Boris would have killed Nick?”
“He killed Andrew.”
“Andrew? Oh—the bloke in the paper? You knew him?” God, was there no end to the shit Jools was having to deal with because of bloody Boris?
“Yes. It’s my fault he died.”
“Don’t be so bloody stupid! It’s not your fault. That’s just what victims of domestic abuse always say—it was my fault, I provoked him, he couldn’t help it.” She’d read up on that, after he’d first mentioned that bastard. “The only person whose fault it was is Boris, all right?” She softened her tone. “Was he like an ex, or something? Andrew, I mean?”
Jools nodded. “Something like that. I didn’t know him very well.”
Which just told you all you needed to know about Julian’s relationships before Dr. Sewell, didn’t it? Suddenly feeling a lot better about what she was doing, Tiff gave a tug on his arm. “Come on. Let’s get you two sorted out.”
AFTER TIFFANY left, Nick sank into a chair, exhausted. Had he done the wrong thing after all? Julian had said he felt empty without Nick. That was a pretty good description of how Nick felt right now: hollow, completely used up. Surely it was madness for them both to be suffering?
But Julian was young. He’d survive; he’d find someone else—Nick’s gut clenched at the thought. The wolf in him wouldn’t stand for that, he knew. Killing people… wasn’t it supposed to be so much easier after the first one? Nick felt sick at the thought.
The knock on the door was brisk and businesslike. It had to be either Nadia or the police. Nick hesitated. He really wasn’t feeling up to another run-in with Phillips.
“Nick Sewell, I know you’re in there,” Nadia’s voice called. “I just ran into Tiffany on the stairs. So open up before I get Sands to lend me the master key. He owes me one, so you can be sure I’ll get it.”
Gratefully, Nick went to open the door.
She looked him up and down. “Well, I see you had that shave, but apart from that, it’s frankly not much of an improvement. I take it the interview with young Julian didn’t go well?”
Nick rubbed his hands over his face as he stood aside to let her in. “We… we’ve split up. He’s leaving Cambridge, going back to his mother’s. We thought it was best.”
She didn’t look particularly as if she agreed. “Nick, lovey, he may have the looks of a china doll, but I hardly think wrapping him in cotton wool is going to do him any good in the long term.”
“At least he’ll be safe,” Nick protested.
“What from? Life? Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s only one way to keep someone safe from that, and it’s not one that I’d recommend.”
She didn’t understand. How could she? “Safe from me,” he said harshly.
Her eyes narrowed. “And is that a valid concern? Ever raised a hand to him?”
Nick was absolutely certain she wouldn’t let friendship get in the way of safeguarding Julian if he said yes. It was actually rather comforting. “No. But he makes me feel….” Restless, he turned away from her. “I get jealous, and I’m not sure I can control it.”
It was close enough to the truth that saying it felt like ripping off a scab. A rather unsightly one, at that.
Nadia sighed, and to Nick’s ears it sounded a lot like relief. “It seems to me, then, dearie, that there’s a very simple solution.”
“I wish to God you’d tell me what it is, then,” Nick said with a hollow attempt at a laugh as he flung himself back into his chair.
“If you don’t want to be an abusive boyfriend, then don’t be an abusive boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes at his look. “What I’m saying is that you have a choice. Now, maybe there is a bit of darkness in that soul of yours, but the Nick Sewell I know can rise above it. You’re not just the sum of your baser impulses, so don’t let the little buggers fool you into thinking you are.”
Nick smiled tiredly. “It all sounds so absurdly simple when you put it like that.”
Nadia grinned back at him. “That’ll be the years of practice talking down to students, dearie.” She put an arm round his shoulders as he sat. “Now, I saw you when Julian went missing, and it was patently obvious to me that you care for that young man a great deal. Don’t you think you ought to stop being such a silly old sod and tell him about it?”
His smile turned crooked. “Whatever happened to ‘if you love somebody, let them go’?”
“Most people, Nick, are quite capable of buggering off by themselves, so I shouldn’t worry about that. Now, are you going to give it another go with your young Mr. Gray?” Nadia had moved to the window and was idly playing with the fertility god in a manner that would most likely have made her young male students rather uncomfortable. She gave a little hmmph of surprise. “Looks like you might have to make your decision quickly. If I’m not mistaken, there’s the young man himself walking this way.”
Heart pounding, Nick stepped to the window, and Nadia moved aside to let him see. Julian was halfway down one side of Main Court, his arms wrapped around himself, with Tiffany on one side and the crow-like figure of her Goth boyfriend on the other. As he watched, Crack broke away from the group and scuttled back toward the Porter’s Lodge. Tiffany remained, hanging on to Julian like she was determined not to let him get away again. Nick felt a physical pain in his chest at the sight.
He couldn’t do this, he realized. Not for a second time. He’d been noble once, for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t go through that again. Nick turned away from the window, unable to look at Julian anymore. His eyes met Nadia’s, which softened at once.
“Oh, lovey. Look, I’ll make myself scarce. Just try not to balls it up this time, hmm?”
She left, closing the door softly behind her. It seemed only moments later that Nick heard Julian’s hesitant knock and, with a sense of inevitability, rose to answer the door.
IT FELT almost surreal, having Julian walk back into his rooms. It must have been less than a week since the last time he was here—but it felt more like a lifetime.
“Nick?” Julian said, his voice uncertain. He looked as pale as death, and his eyes were wild, his hair untidy. What had it cost him to walk through town on his own, to come to face the man who’d rejected him? Pain slashed at Nick once more. He’d given up all rights to Julian. Christ, what had he been thinking?
Nick was startled into a laugh. “Christ, Julian, you want a list?” He looked away, trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions that were tearing him apart. “Do your parents know you’re here?”
“Yes. They didn’t want me to come.” Julian’s gaze, at first defiant, now sank to the carpet.
“Why did you?” Nick cursed himself for how bloody unwelcoming that sounded. “I mean, not that I don’t want you here….” He trailed off. That had, after all, been more or less what he’d said back in the hotel.
Julian shrugged, a small, tense movement. “Tiff thought that I was wrong about how you felt about me.” His arms moved jerkily, as if he’d been about to hug himself once more but had fought down the impulse. Nick ached to do it for him. “I should be the one to say sorry,” Julian continued at last. “I should not have gone with Boris.”
“Did you have a choice?” Nick’s heart raced as he waited for Julian’s answer.
“I… I tried to run.” Julian shuddered. Nick’s anger rose at the thought of him being pursued by that monster. “It was my fault Andrew was killed. I led Boris to him.”
Andrew. Nick felt suddenly cold. “You knew the man who was murdered? What was he—another of your back-alley blowjob regulars?”
Julian flinched. “He was not a regular. None of them were.”
For God’s sake, how many had there been? “But you had—Christ, is that what you were doing when Schräger found you?”
Julian’s head came up defiantly. “No. We spoke, and I told Andrew I had made a mistake in coming into town. I was going to come back to college.”
He’d been going to come back…. “So, what did Schräger say to make you change your mind?” Nick was being unfair, he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Christ, the bastard had just killed a man in front of him, was it any wonder Julian had been too frightened to disobey? “Julian, I’m sorry—”
“I don’t understand you, Nick.” Julian’s hand brushed through his hair distractedly. “I think I know what you want, but then you say you do not want it. And then you act as though I was right the first time. I don’t know how you want me to behave!”
Nick stared. “Julian, I don’t want you to act a certain way to please me. That’s not love! That’s what Schräger wanted.” He realized his fists were clenched and relaxed them with difficulty. He wanted to kill Schräger all over again, and Herrscher, and anyone else who’d had a hand in making Julian believe he was no more than a puppet.
Julian’s eyes were wide. “You love me?”
He had said that, hadn’t he? Or as good as. Nick felt a curious lightness in his chest. “Christ, Julian, isn’t it obvious by now?”
“I don’t understand love,” Julian said softly.
Something inside Nick broke at that. “I know. It’s all right. I’ll teach you.” He took two short paces forward and then, finally, took Julian in his arms. He smelled rather strongly of soap and shampoo, but under it all, Nick could still detect Julian’s own unique scent, and it crept under his skin and penetrated his heart. “I thought you’d be better off without me,” he whispered, even as he pressed their bodies together.
“Never,” Julian whispered back, nuzzling into Nick’s neck in a way that left him breathless. Nick hadn’t meant to do anything other than hold Julian, but suddenly he was kissing him desperately. If Julian hesitated before kissing him back, Nick wasn’t aware of it. He surrendered eagerly to the onslaught, his lips parting to allow Nick to taste every corner of his mouth. Nick groaned. He was achingly hard and filled with the urge to reclaim his mate. Almost without thinking, he tugged at Julian’s shirt.
Julian froze. His sudden stillness brought Nick to his senses. Christ, what was he thinking of? Julian had been abducted, abused…. “I’m sorry,” he said, stroking Julian’s hair. “It’s all right. We don’t have to—”
In answer, Julian stepped back half a pace and pulled off his sweater, then stood there, trembling slightly. Nick’s jaw clenched at the sight of the mottled bruises, the half-healed cuts that marred that creamy flesh, and then slender fingers were upon his chin, tilting his head upward to meet Julian’s troubled gaze.
“Don’t look, Nick. Please.”
For a heartbeat, Nick just stared at him. Then he nodded slightly and bent once more to meet Julian’s lips in a kiss. He pulled Julian to him more gently this time, feeling the curves of his arse, moaning a little as his erection dug into the flat planes of Julian’s stomach. Then Julian’s hands trembled on the fastenings of Nick’s trousers, unzipped them, and freed his painfully rigid cock.
Guessing what was to come, Nick caught Julian by the elbows as he began to sink to his knees. “Not this time.”
Undoing Julian’s trousers, he reached for that slender cock and felt it twitch and stiffen in his hand. Julian gasped, a high, breathy sound, as Nick wrapped his hand around them both and worked them together. Their lips met once more, and there was a new desperation in Julian’s kiss. No longer just yielding to Nick’s attentions, he seized the initiative, nipping and biting at Nick’s tongue and lips, then moving down to his throat. All hesitation swept aside by Julian’s boldness, Nick tightened his hand on their cocks and sped up his motion.
Julian was moaning now as his cock moved repeatedly through Nick’s grasp. As his cries grew louder, Nick felt drunk on desire for this beautiful young man who’d almost been snatched away from him.
“Mine,” he growled—and Julian shuddered in his arms as hot come shot up between them. Nick felt a wave of heat and lust explode through his body, and he was coming too, their seed mingling on their bellies and soaking into Nick’s shirt.
They clung to each other for long minutes afterward, then, as his breathing slowed and the chill of his rooms made itself known, Nick stripped off his soiled shirt and used it to wipe Julian clean. Their mingled scent would remain, Nick knew, and that was just how he wanted it.
“Come to bed,” he said softly, and they padded to the bedroom and slipped under the duvet together.
“So,” Julian said with a pale ghost of his old smile as he settled down in Nick’s arms, “you don’t think I’d be better off without you now?”
His heart light, Nick kissed him. “No.” Did he really believe that, or was it just selfish relief at having his lover back? “You… you have to tell me if I do things you don’t like. Talk to me—don’t just run off for a bit of comfort elsewhere.” He took a deep breath and cupped Julian’s face in one hand. “I know you need… an alpha, and I suspect I’d find it difficult in any case not to play that role. But it doesn’t mean you don’t have a voice in our relationship.”
Julian bit his lip and nodded. “I’m sorry I… reacted badly when you said you didn’t want me to live with you. I should have realized—”
“I was a bloody idiot,” Nick said sharply. He gave a lopsided smile. “I should have realized in any case that the chances of keeping our relationship a secret were ridiculously small in a place like this. I’m afraid I’m a little too used to having to keep my own counsel, to not let anyone know too much about me. Having to hide what I am….” Nick’s stomach lurched as he remembered. “The police suspect. Or at least, Detective Inspector Phillips does.”
“Suspect what? That we are werewolves?”
“That I am, at any rate. He handed me a silver cross to hold, then looked terribly disappointed when I didn’t scream in agony or burst into flames or whatever the hell was supposed to happen.” Nick grimaced. “Just as well that little piece of folklore isn’t true. It’d make using the silver cutlery on High Table damned awkward.”
His heart leaped as Julian wrapped two slender arms around his waist and rested a tousled blond head on his shoulder. “Do you think we are in danger?”
“I hope not. Not if we’re careful, I think. He doesn’t seem certain of anything—except for the fact he hates my guts—and
he’d be risking his career to speak of his suspicions to anyone without some pretty convincing proof.” Nick sighed. “What about your father? Herrscher. Do you really think he wants you back?”
“I think he wants to frighten my mother. How far he will go in this, I don’t know.” Julian’s arms tightened on his waist. “I don’t want to go back with him.”
“God, of course not!”
Julian was silent for a moment. “I was going to tell you I would.”
“What?”
“If you had told me to go back to my mother, to stay away from you… I would have told you I’d rather return to my father, if you didn’t want me.”
Nick tipped Julian’s chin up so that their eyes met. “What if I’d called your bluff?”
Julian tensed. “If you’d been that disgusted with me, I wouldn’t have cared what happened to me.”
“Disgusted?” Nick shook his head. “It’s Schräger who disgusted me, not you.” And Herrscher, but Nick wasn’t going to say that now. “Julian, you must never doubt that I want you. Whatever happens. Understand? Even if we have other rows. Never doubt me. I love you.”
Julian murmured something Nick didn’t catch and buried his face in Nick’s neck once more.
Nick stroked his lover’s pale hair. Yes, he thought—he’d made the right decision. Thank God. This was how he could prove himself better than that bastard Schräger—by protecting Julian, nurturing him, loving him like he deserved.
And maybe he should find out where Matthew was living these days and check if he was all right, if he needed anything. Or make a donation to a domestic abuse charity—after all, Matthew might not welcome him getting back in touch. He should have done those things long ago, Nick realized. It was time to start taking responsibility for the consequences of his actions.
Time to recognize just how damned lucky he was that things had ended up so well with Julian.