She wouldn't look into the mirror again.
She chilled quickly and found a warm robe hanging on the back of the door, Japanese style scuffs on the floor by the wall. Grace shuffled into the room, briefly examined the mostly bare kitchen, and forced herself to drink as much water as she could hold.
There was a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, but she passed on it.
The sleeping area was at the back of the loft. A thick futon rested on a strong frame. Gratefully, she slid into the bed, nestling into soft pillows. There was a switch at the side of the bed; she flicked it, and the lights dimmed.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see ghostly figures in the room, more furniture, mostly impersonal items.
On the table beside the bed, she found the message. A small sculpture of a dragon sat there. It was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Her skin told her it was jade. Shen Lung. King Dragon. This had been her brother's home. She'd been led here by the smell of tobacco. Guo Lee. “You old rapscallion! You didn't want me to die alone!"
As her eyes drifted shut, Grace could see another figure in the darkness. A male squatting on the floor, back to the wall, cigarette glowing in the darkness. She knew he wasn't really there, but just the same, was more than glad to pretend that he was.
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Chapter Two
Yet another step up the ladder of command.
Lieutenant Milo Greene squinted at the paperwork before him, his eyes burning from fatigue. But for once, the fatigue was good; honest wear and tear on his muscles, not the fatigue of pushing papers and jockeying within interdepartmental political races.
However, this piece of paper was putting the lock on his future, and Greene wasn't so sure he was happy about that.
If Milo had been a family man, he'd have been content to stay at the desk and maneuver the lives of the detectives under his command. This last year, though, had reminded him of the thrill of being back on the street, using his senses, his skills and his brain. He'd stepped into the vacancy left by Annie Tanaka and immersed himself into the ugly case of the black market nanites that the Yakuza had been smuggling into the City.
The contents of this piece of paper would once again take him off the street and bump him up the managerial ladder. It was his promotion to captain.
"It isn't an easy decision that you are faced with."
His heart skipped a beat, not at the surprise of discovering that his solitude had been violated, but at the simple delight at the company of Darah Lash, the top security advisor with the Thalians. The Thalian political structure differed from that of the Earth governments, but essentially, Darah was Greene's peer. He was also his friend and perhaps more. Milo wasn't quite sure how he felt about that “more” part.
Darah moved gracefully into the room, momentarily blocking the view of the hallway. It was late and few people were still about, save the night shift.
"It's the normal progression of my career."
Darah pulled up a straight-backed chair and straddled it, leaving space for his wings to expand and relax. Normally, he wore them tightly folded to his back, almost invisible, but they'd participated in a training that had become rough. Greene had suffered bumps and bruises, and Darah's men had flown, each carrying a passenger for a brief flight.
The humans had been shocked at the sight. The Thalians generally were unable to fly more than a short distance, and then they usually glided. Darah had proudly informed Greene that, unlike his golden brothers, the dark members of their species were generally better skilled at flying, and had greater physical strength.
Greene had come to learn that the goldens viewed their dark brothers with some contempt, viewing them as less evolved, less beautiful and refined. Personally, he thought that was bullshit. Darah had proven himself a brilliant detective and tactician, quickly adapting to the intricacies of the human mind.
And he was beautiful. Not the gold and white, celestial beauty of the doctors and scientists, but rich and vibrant. He was often stern, hawkish, in a military sense. His great wings were of dark mahogany-brown feathers. His long hair was the same color, neatly bound in a braid that fell to his hips. His skin was a warm bronze that tanned easily in the weak sun of the Bay Area.
The other Guard officers were dark as well, and while the goldens wore their hair in softly flowing, shoulder-length waves, Darah's men all wore the same long braids. It was a sign of their lower status.
Rather than flowing robes, they wore close-fitting breeches with a utility vest layered over billowing white shirts. Knee-high boots completed the uniform. A small tattoo to the side of his neck denoted rank. Darah's was the most complex that Milo had seen.
The Thalian Guard were well trained and competent. They'd been intimidating to encounter on the training field.
Darah sat quietly, observing Greene's face. Milo knew the alien was picking up and processing his thoughts. It had taken some time to become accustomed to their telepathy, and as head of Thalian security, Darah rarely blocked the thoughts of others. He couldn't afford to allow the humans their privacy. Greene had learned to build a mental shield, but around Darah he didn't bother. The knowledge that someone actually understood him was comforting.
When his feelings for Darah had evolved from friendship to attraction, he hadn't bothered to censor himself, and Darah hadn't been offended. He allowed Milo to struggle through that tangle of unaccustomed emotion and come to peace with it. Homophobia didn't seem to exist among the Thalians.
"For now, my friend, you should put that paper away, return to it later. If I am correct, you have time off?"
"The weekend."
"I arranged my hours of leave to coincide with yours."
The implications of that statement hit Greene hard, sending blood rushing in his ears. The muscles of his belly twisted, and behind the cover of the desk, his cock swelled. Darah sat casually, but Greene could sense his arousal as well. His dark eyes searched Milo's face with a powerful intensity.
The loneliness of the past three years had been bleak, broken only by the harsh, uglier moments provided by his job. He went home to an empty house, greeted by the photograph of Tammy. He kept the photograph in sight at all times, because if he didn't, her image in his memory faded too quickly, and he desperately needed to hold onto Tammy's face, her voice. Without it, his life was simply too empty to bear.
Milo Greene had never been a particularly social man, but somewhere along the way, his entire existence had wrapped around his dying wife. And when she was gone, there was only the job. He worked long days and nights, gave each task his complete focus, and accepted the inevitable promotions that came from a job well done.
But then one day nearly a year ago, he'd looked up from his work and this beautiful Thalian soldier had been standing in the doorway of his office, ready to discuss strategy and cross-training.
He was under no illusions. Darah was a spy just as he was himself. They had carefully observed one another and shared limited information, finally coming to a comfortable understanding. Both men would give some, take some, but in reality, the Thalians knew much more about humans than vice-versa, and had better skills at hiding their own motivations. Greene was philosophical about it. The Thalians had been watching Earth for millennia, and so far, they'd done no harm.
Therefore, Darah and Greene combined their forces, and as the government slowly introduced the Thalians to the public, Thalian Guards began to accompany Greene's men on selected missions, and consulted on difficult cases. A Thalian in an interrogation room was a priceless commodity.
The more time they spent together, the stronger his feelings grew. Greene knew himself well enough to know he was dangerously close to being in love.
It frightened him, this idea of wanting the body of another man. At odd moments, he was filled with elation, the thrill of life suddenly crashing back into his heart, his body. His future was suddenly filled with possibilities. He'd watched other detectives screened an
d trained for space assignments. For the first time, he considered the possibility of transferring, of taking a demotion and entering the field again. He was still young, physically able to work the streets. Why not? Why not pursue his career out there in the stars?
Darah slowly rose to his feet, military straight, tall and magnificent. With precise movements, he closed and locked the door. He turned, and his expression shifted to confident humor.
Greene rose, equally straight though not quite as tall. His personal uniform consisted of a black suit, white shirt and a dark green tie that Tammy had given him for his thirtieth birthday.
He stood, unwilling to submit to the other man, his hackles rising slightly, easing as Darah gave him a slow, sexy smile. “I won't dominate you, Milo Greene. You are a strong, prideful man, and I find that appealing."
Those words said, the men moved closer, and within inches of touching, they stopped. Greene felt his heart slamming in his chest, the anticipation of the first touch almost as overwhelming as that split second of surrender just before giving himself to climax.
Ten minutes ago, he'd been ready to sign his life away to a dull future!
He brought up his hand, rested the palm gently on Darah's broad, hard chest, feeling the other man's heart beat as rapidly as his own. He couldn't meet Darah's eyes. Perhaps he was afraid of what he'd see there. Instead, he looked at his sinfully full lips, his straight, strong nose. By the time he lifted his eyes to meet the Thalian's gaze, he was tight and hard, ready to explode into action.
It surprised him only a little to see that Darah's very dark eyes were blue, not black, as he'd initially thought.
The kiss, the first kiss, was barely there. He slipped his hand behind Darah's head, bringing him closer, just a taste, a whisper of an embrace. They held that gentle kiss a moment longer and then male passion erupted. Darah's hands were on his body, pulling them together tight and close, hips grinding, turgid cocks meeting in a hard caress.
They kissed with lips and tongue and teeth. Harsh breathing punctuated the silence. Greene knew he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. His sane mind thought frantically before remembering the large leather sofa that he frequently napped on.
Darah was tugging at his tie, fumbling with the unfamiliar garment, while Greene pushed ineffectually at the heavy vest, finally hearing it drop to the floor. He pulled the billowing white shirt loose from Darah's trousers. It went over his head easily, leaving Greene faced with an expanse of brown, scarred chest, a flat lean belly, and powerful bare arms.
Darah grew impatient with Greene's clothing, jerking the dress shirt over his head and pausing to bend to his bare chest, tongue dragging over sensitive nipples. His hand stroked, rubbed, until he wrapped it around Milo's painfully hard cock.
To his surprise, Darah had opened his wings. As the men fell to the couch, he covered Milo, creating a dark, fragrant cave for them to make love within.
Shoes dropped, pants slid to the floor, and they were shockingly and gloriously nude. Their cocks bumped in a delicious embrace. They were pressed together hard at the root. Darah reached down and squeezed their shafts together, prompting a groan from them both.
"This is your first time?” Darah hovered there above him, his face stark with arousal, with need.
"With a man? Yes."
"I can't wait long...” His chest heaved. “I want to do so much with you, Milo Greene. There is so much I can teach you!"
Greene nodded, understanding. Until meeting Darah, sex with a male was something others did. He hadn't really thought about the act itself. Until Darah.
Now, he wanted it all. He wanted to taste the other man's skin, his seed. He wanted his mouth, and God help him, he wanted to penetrate Darah, to be fully one. He wanted to be penetrated, to know that he belonged to someone in this lonely universe.
Darah lowered once more, the length of his body pressing into Greene, two hard-muscled bodies coming together in a carnal, blessed embrace. He began to move, gently prodding Milo to join his tempo, heated cocks stroking, bellies undulating. Milo grabbed his ass, pulling their bodies tighter, urging Darah to move faster, harder.
They kissed again, and the sensation of the other man's tongue stroking his own was dizzying. He wondered briefly if the Thalians emitted a hormone. He captured Darah's tongue and sucked hard, letting go to bite his lips.
When Darah moved to his throat, nipping and sucking lightly, Milo arched his head back, exposing his throat to his lover. His hands roamed Darah's fine skin, testing muscle, digging fingers into the tight muscles of the Thalian's wings.
To his surprise, Darah found that intensely erotic, his eyes going blank in ecstasy. “Yes, that is good, so very good..."
Their hips rolled, pressing and releasing their hard cocks, their movements growing faster as they became wet and slick with pre-come. Darah's breath was coming short and fast. He lay over Milo, thigh to thigh, bellies slapping with the speed of their thrusts. They were pressed so tightly together, Milo couldn't fit his hand between them. All he could do was to wrap the Thalian tightly in his grasp, squeezing his ass hard, pumping his hips, fighting to keep his eyes open.
Even as his body became tense and his ass clenched with impending climax, Darah grew tight above him, every muscle contracting. He grunted, and they came together, ragged and harsh, ropes of semen jetting from their bodies, mingling together, silky and slick between their bodies. They pounded hard, groaning with their completion, emptying their bodies and their souls into one another's care.
Muscles went lax and loose, and Milo let his head fall back, his heart pounding, breath grinding from his lungs.
Darah was a heavy weight over his body, but it was a weight that he gladly bore. He turned his head and pressed a kiss on the other man's smooth cheek. Loneliness, isolation, depression all lifted from his soul.
Darah turned his head slightly. “I think we are going to have a very pleasurable weekend, Milo Greene. And I pray we have many pleasurable days and nights beyond that."
He shifted slightly, pulling in his wings, smiling at the shine of the semen over their bellies, up their chests. Darah bent down and licked the fluid from Milo's skin, and impossibly, another erection began. The Thalian laughed. “This will have to wait until we are home."
When he stood, Greene could see that Darah's cock was also hard and swollen. Impulsively, he took the Thalian by the arm, pulling him close, kissing him gently. “Thank you."
"You are ... what do you humans say?” He grinned devilishly. “It is my pleasure."
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Chapter Three
She woke slowly, her body aching, and she realized that what she'd been dreading had finally come to pass. Grace was losing her vision.
Somehow, she'd managed to make it to the back alleys of Chinatown for her transfusion and the herbal treatment that had kept her alive and functioning far beyond her original prognosis. The little healer had taken her pulse and muttered in Cantonese clearly enough that she knew the disease had jumped to another level of crisis. He'd turned down her offer of payment and told her to come back in a week for her next transfusion.
So it was four a month now. She really should be dead.
She'd managed to roll a couple stoned gangsters for a wad of cash, and had bribed a kid inside of Wharf to do her shopping, heavy on protein and orange juice. Today's plan had been to head up the hill, get her transfusion, buy some supplies and scope out another crash pad.
Sometimes plans had to change, and now it looked like Grace would be living out the remainder of her life in her brother's old place.
Bastard had left her a note in the kitchen, urging her to seek help from Greene over in Oakland. That had made her laugh, not only that her brother had read the tea leaves to know she'd be in a predicament, but also that he'd imagined that she'd ask for help from Milo Greene, of all people!
Greene had set her feet on this path. She didn't need him pushing her along any faster. And she couldn't bear to imagine the l
ook in his eyes when he saw her like this.
Grace rose, stretched, and was grateful that the muscle pain was bearable today. She tilted her head, evaluating her new vision. She could adapt. And maybe for enough cash, old David Mok would make a house call. She'd ask the kid downstairs to run the message up the hill.
Yeah, she should be getting her treatments in a shiny, sterile hospital somewhere, but what the hell fun was that? Mok hadn't killed her yet. Besides, Nakashima probably had people in the hospitals.
Grace shuffled to the kitchen, poured juice into a chipped coffee cup and watched the sun come up over Oakland.
Unbidden, her thoughts returned to Milo Greene, and she wondered how he was doing.
* * * *
The view from Milo's home in the Oakland Hills was beautiful. A deck wrapped around the house, and from his vantage point, Darah could see across the bay to San Francisco, with its shattered, quaint skyline just barely catching the early dawn light. Weeks ago, late at night, when the humans weren't monitoring their actions, the dark Thalians had flown over, silently peering into that odd cityscape, hovering over Wharf, then winging their way through the gritty, dangerous canyons of the slowly recovering city. It had been risky, for even goldens didn't suspect their capability for long range flight. It was a dangerous secret and closely guarded.
Darah stood outside on the deck, letting the cool air caress his naked skin and carry his long hair around his body. It was a sensual pleasure he rarely indulged in these days. The uniform had to be perfect, the hair controlled and contained, the emotions were to be suppressed at all times.
He'd certainly failed on the emotional aspect of this assignment! The first time he'd looked into the sad grey eyes of Milo Greene, he'd fixated on the human. The attraction had grown, as had the friendship. After that first time together, he'd felt Milo's walls crumble, his sadness had fled, and that terrible isolation was a memory. And it was because of Darah.
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