by Lyra Evans
Realizing the reporters had turned and spotted him, Niko pulled out his phone as though he’d just received an alert. Some of them came round, and someone knocked on the window. Niko pushed his door open slightly, just a crack again, and gave them a questioning look.
“Excuse me, are you police?” the closest reporter asked. He was of average height with brown hair and brown eyes. His ears were not pointed, and the topaz rings on his fingers indicated he was a Wizard. Which meant rumours of Selkies had reached beyond the borders of Maeve’s Court.
Niko blinked curiously at him. “Police? No, no,” he said, holding his hands up and waving away the idea. “I’m just meeting a friend nearby for a drink.” He was painfully conscious of his badge in his pocket and hoped his position and motions were enough to distract from it.
The reporter gave him a quizzical look. “You’re meeting a friend for a drink at a mortuary?”
Niko let his eyes go wide. “Mortuary?” He looked out his windshield and squinted at the front of the building. “Whoa, I definitely got the address really wrong. Shit, I better text Sol and let him know.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping away, then as if realizing something, he squinted back up at the reporter. "Wait, don’t I know you?” He blinked a few times. “Yeah! You’re the guy from TCNN! Harvey Kin—Kinco—no, that’s not right…”
“Kincaid,” the reporter answered, clearly miffed at Niko’s mistake.
“Yes!” Niko said. “Hey, you mind posing for a picture so I can show my friends?” He glanced around Kincaid, noting the other reporters. “Ohhh, hey. Are you on assignment or something? Is there a story breaking here? What’s going on?”
Kincaid frowned, looking beyond Niko to the passenger side, as though he still didn’t quite trust him. His eyes glazed slightly as he stared hard at the spot where Cobalt was. He was forced to blink a few times, trying to clear his vision, then he shook it off and stepped back, turning to his camerawoman.
“This is a bust,” he said. “We’re going to need to go back to MCPD headquarters. See if we can’t catch some cops coming out or maybe a Court official going in. Apparently it’s been buzzing with activity all day.”
He started to walk away when Niko called out, “Hey! Don’t leave me hanging, man! What’s the scoop?”
Kincaid shook his head as he departed, calling out behind him, “Watch it on the news like everyone else!”
He got into his van and drove away with the others. Once the lot was empty again, Niko turned to Cobalt. The haze around his seat was difficult to look directly at, but more unnerving than that was the feel of Cobalt so close but invisible. Niko held out his hand again.
“Take my hand and I’ll turn you back,” Niko said, not sure where Cobalt’s hand actually was. There was a strange movement on the air and then a light touch down the side of his neck. Niko shivered, his mouth falling open in surprise. Then fingers surged into his hair from the nape of his neck, upward to the crown of his head, and grasped a fistful of hair. Locks yanked backward, Niko’s head jerked to follow, the pain snapping through him and sending coils of desire through his body. He clenched his teeth, wishing he didn’t react the way he did. He loved to have his hair pulled, loved the vulnerability of having his neck exposed the way it was, and the hot breath that played over his throat only intensified the experience.
“Pity,” Cobalt said, his voice coming from nowhere and everywhere, as though he were speaking into Niko. “There’s certainly a lot of fun to be had like this.”
Mind flooded with ideas of exactly what that could entail, Niko shoved them away and sought to ground himself. But the power of will it took to speak was more than he could handle, and his words came out through gritted teeth, like a growl.
“Give. Me. Your. Hand,” he said.
There was a rumbling laugh, and Cobalt took his outstretched hand. Niko made the trade back, and the Selkie materialized before him, an infuriating smirk on his face.
“How long has it been?” he asked, his eyes drawing a line down Niko’s body from his head to his groin. Niko tried to pretend he wasn’t already full at the simple action.
“None of your fucking business,” he snapped, throwing his door open. He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him, taking a moment in the humid air to calm his breathing. But the heat on his flushed skin was making it difficult. Why Cobalt enjoyed messing with him so much was a mystery, but Niko didn’t have time to solve that one too. Cobalt emerged from the car, the smirk still in place, and Niko shot, “You might as well turn off your weird lust charm, or whatever you call it, because it’s getting old.”
As he met up with Niko and walked toward the front doors of the office, he shook his head. “I told you, that effect already wore off. Probably in the first few minutes after we met.” He leaned in to Niko as they walked, and Niko told himself he could not feel the shift in the air when Cobalt was near. “This is all you.”
Niko whirled on Cobalt, catching him by surprise. With one hand flat to Cobalt’s chest, he pressed him back against the brick wall of the medical building. Cobalt’s back smacked into the wall, his eyes never leaving Niko’s face, his mouth forming a half-open smirk. Niko ignored that, his own expression smoldering.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, crowding Cobalt in. He maintained a hair’s width of distance between their bodies, and the magnetic pull between them became more and more pronounced, so difficult to fight Niko worked every one of his muscles to do it.
Niko’s height disadvantage meant Cobalt was looking down at him, and the look on his face as well as the carefully casual placement of his arms at his sides, told Niko he’d allowed himself to be crowded. Trying very hard not to be infuriated by the thought, Niko held his ground.
“You don’t know what it means to be attracted to someone?” Cobalt asked, cocking one eyebrow. Niko gritted his teeth.
“What do you mean by ‘it’s all me’?” Niko rephrased through his teeth. Cobalt licked his lips.
“It means magic has nothing to do with it, mine or yours,” he said. “The images you see in your head, the thoughts of what we might do and how it makes you hard,” he breathed, leaning a mite closer, “those are something else entirely.”
Swallowing hard, Niko stared into Cobalt’s eyes, watching intently as his pupils dilated dramatically, nearly eclipsing the silver irises. Niko was hard now, painfully so, but as he stood there, he realized so was Cobalt. He wasn’t affected this way alone.
“You know a whole lot about those images,” Niko whispered, feigning intimacy, “if you’re not responsible for them.” He paused as though thinking about it. “Unless you’re getting them too.” Cobalt said nothing to this, his arms still intentionally loose at his sides. Niko noticed the slight bulge of a muscle at Cobalt’s neck, and he realized it was an effort for Cobalt to maintain the distance between them too. “You are.” With a smirk of his own, Niko went on, “So what are you seeing? Am I on my knees for you? Or maybe you’re pushing me against the wall, spreading my legs for you and moaning as you fuck me?” The quality of the air changed, suddenly charged with electricity. Everything else was silenced, and Niko forgot where he was for a moment. Cobalt’s eyes were on Niko’s lips. “Maybe you see me with my hands tied up like at the club…naked and at your mercy and writhing as you push inside me…” Cobalt’s lips parted, and Niko breathed him in. His own mouth opening, his head tilting slightly, Niko could almost taste Cobalt on the whisper of air between them. And just as he thought he might fall into it, allow himself to sink into a kiss and a touch and a fuck he’d been wanting for what felt like forever, Niko pulled back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, forget it. It’s not going to fucking happen.”
Turning back to the entrance of the building, Niko tried to find his calm. He was still throbbing hard, his mind a whirlwind of what he could have had, but he pushed all that aside. He couldn’t fuck Cobalt. He couldn’t. There were a million reasons, not least of which was that he hadn�
�t—not since being undercover. Not with anyone. And given what he’d found out about himself then—well, it was just too much. He was too fucked up. Whatever Cobalt said, it was too far.
Niko pulled open the door, sure he imagined the slight intake of breath from Cobalt as he did. He went inside, not waiting to see if Cobalt was following. The cold air of the medical building assaulted him like a flash freeze and did more to help quell his desire than anything else. The reception area was deserted now, possibly thanks to the horde of reporters they’d just expelled. The smell of antiseptic flooded Niko’s senses, dulling his awareness of Cobalt’ scent and presence behind him. The relief was only slightly tinged by disappointment.
Walking down the hall toward the offices, Niko found the one marked Dr. Aspen and knocked on the door. Cobalt seemed to be keeping some distance now, and the space between them irked Niko more than he expected. He had little time to dwell on it, mind, as the door opened to the same harried Dr. Aspen he’d seen at the entrance.
“Oh, thank the Firs,” Aspen said, gesturing for them to follow her into the office. “I’m about ready to trade in my sanity.”
Aspen’s office was a relatively standard room washed in taupes and greys with the usual industrial linoleum floors and boxy office furniture. Her desk was covered in stacks of papers and folders, with medical journals interspersed in between, except for a square foot area directly in front of her which was pristinely clean. An adjustable lamp with magnifying glass attachments stood tilted at the corner of her desk, creating a distorted window into her files. The wall behind her had two windows with the blinds closed, and the filing cabinet beneath the sills was adorned with tiny figurines of characters in strange futuristic outfits with what looked like laser guns. Niko vaguely recognized them from a popular movie franchise, but he knew little else about them.
The walls to either side of them were hidden behind bookshelves, and these shelves were about as stacked full as her desk was. Niko settled into one of the uncomfortable grey chairs in front of her desk, waiting for Cobalt to fall into the other. But he did not. Instead, the Selkie remained standing.
“We saw the circus of reporters being ushered out,” Niko said. “Has it been happening a lot since yesterday?”
Aspen heaved a heavy sigh and sank unceremoniously into her chair. It squeaked under her weight. “Circus is an understatement. The bloody reporters have been hounding me and my staff almost non-stop. They keep asking the same questions, too, which is both frustrating and stupid. I keep saying the same thing, then they leave, and an hour later they’re back because some other random tiny detail of the case got leaked to them. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I had to let one of my assistants off for the day already because of the stress it’s caused him.”
Niko nodded. “Did you let the precinct know? Might need to set up some auxiliary officers to stand at the entrance until the case is solved,” Niko suggested. Aspen’s eyes widened, and she sighed again.
“So I take it that means it’s not solved yet?” she asked. Niko shook his head. “I figured it was a longshot.” Niko wasn’t sure whether to take offense at her statement or not. It was likely she was just under a surreal amount of stress. She scratched her nails through her hair, effectively teasing out the bun even more. “No, I haven’t let the precinct know, but I suppose I will now. I thought having officers on hand would only exacerbate the situation. Make reporters think there really is something to the story. Which, I guess, there is.” She said the last with a pointed look at Cobalt. Then, apparently remembering they weren’t there to listen to her vent, she collected herself and asked, “What can I do for you, Detective?”
Niko stared at her momentarily. “You called us,” he said slowly. “You indicated the autopsy on Indigo is complete and the body is ready for release.”
Eyes widening, she straightened and nodded. “Oh yes, of course,” Aspen said, getting up from her desk. “You’ll want to take possession of your prince’s remains, I take it.” Cobalt shook his head, holding out a hand to stop her.
“Quite the contrary, actually,” he said, and she gave him a quizzical look. “I’m afraid I cannot return Indigo’s body to the ocean until we have possession of his Soul Stone. As of yet, we do not. If I were to introduce his body to the water without it, he would be returned to the Reef without his Soul, and therefore, never able to be reborn.”
Aspen gaped somewhat, smoothing out her lab coat. Niko sat silently, unsure how literal Cobalt’s statement was. Apparently, Dr. Aspen had little understanding of it either.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sincloud, but that is not protocol,” she said. “We cannot store bodies indefinitely. “Religious ceremonies aside, I’m afraid Prince Indigo’s body cannot stay here—”
“It is not a matter of religion,” Cobalt said, his voice edged with frustration in a way Niko had yet to witness. He closed his eyes slowly, breathing in and out through his nose in a calculated way. Then, swallowing hard and relaxing his shoulders, he seemed the picture of calm. It was a studied picture, a conscious portrait, and Niko wondered at the experiences that made Cobalt hold back so intentionally. “I understand you know little of Selkie culture and history, but please know when I say it is of utmost importance Indigo be returned to the water with his Soul Stone, I do mean it. The Reef is not some deity to which we pray or pay tithes. It is the living, magical heart of the ocean. It is the life from which all ocean life is born, and without it, the ocean dies. It is that which gives birth to our Stones and allows us the ability to shift between Waterdance and Landwalk.” His voice grew even, calm, and very brittle, as though any emotion might shatter it to dust. “I think, given the circumstances, you can waive protocol this one time.”
It was not a request. Niko might have been subtly bothered by the way he demanded law enforcement protocol be abandoned for him and his people, but he couldn’t muster it. Forgetting the fact that Cobalt had a point, that their poor understanding of Selkie biology and culture made it possible their protocol could cause more damage than was already done, Niko had other reasons for letting Cobalt’s demand go.
He was deeply, deeply turned on. Not hard as he had been outside, by the wall, but rather his entire body was alight with wanting. Cobalt’s thinly veiled power had a dangerous effect on Niko. His blood rushed with flames, his mind a chaotic mess of imagined events, and it was all Niko could do to stop himself jumping Cobalt right then. Inappropriate as that was. And wrong. It was all wrong. But Niko found himself gripping the armrests of his chair, knuckles white, to wait out the onslaught.
Not minutes ago, he’d told Cobalt it was never going to happen. And now he sat there, fighting with his body to maintain composure, he was considering throwing his resolve to the wind to let Cobalt do with him as he wished. Because if he could command words that way, that easily, changing the landscape to suit himself, what could he do to Niko’s body? What could he do to Niko as a whole?
“I—Yes, well,” Dr. Aspen said, slowly returning to her seat behind the desk. “I suppose that’s fair. As far as I can tell, the refrigeration unit has effectively stalled decomposition, as it does with Fae. So provided this storage remains effective, we can continue to house Prince Indigo’s remains until his Soul Stone can be located and returned to him.” She scribbled down a note and appended it to a file she pulled from the stack to her right. “Yes. Well. Is there anything else?”
There was a moment of pregnant silence, everyone waiting for something, and Niko belatedly realised they were waiting for him to answer the question. Snapping back to reality and cursing himself for the moment of weakness, Niko grimaced and turned his attention back to Dr. Aspen and the case at hand.
“Wondering if you found anything in the lab work that might help us discern who or what killed him?” Niko asked. Cobalt’s gaze burned into the side of his face, but he stared determinately forward.
Aspen pulled out some of the papers in the file folder she held, scanning quickly. “I don’t think there’s anyt
hing new from what I mentioned before,” she said, eyes on the page. “The cause of death was definitely exsanguination from the violent wound in the victim’s chest. I don’t have any better ideas regarding what caused the wound.” She paused and tapped a pen against her chin. “Perhaps funnelling magic through something that might narrow its area of effect? Witches and Wizards use gemstones this way, but I’ve never heard of a spell powerful enough to do this. Plus, his eardrums were burst, so that holds with the theory some kind of sound caused this.” She gestured to the diagram of Indigo’s body with areas marked for his wounds. “A device that can concentrate and focus the energy of a sonic boom still seems the most likely. That or a Banshee, I guess. You haven’t found evidence of one, have you?” Her eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of yet another new species to analyze, but Niko shook his head.
“No,” he said, frustrated that a Banshee was the only lead anyone could seem to come up with. Though the noise the servants in the guesthouse heard that night certainly were in keeping with the idea of a Banshee. “Is it possible, to your knowledge, to amplify your voice enough to create a sound that powerful? Say through a trade?”
Aspen considered this, and Cobalt’s eyes went from Niko to the floor, staring through the ground as though seeing something far beneath.
“I doubt it,” Aspen said. “Even if you could trade effectively to reach a decibel level high enough to cause a sonic boom from your mouth, the damage it would do to your vocal chords would be significant. Not to mention your own eardrums, probably.” She shrugged after a time. “I suppose it is possible, just highly inefficient. I’m not sure what you’d use as a mechanism to concentrate the effect on a small area, though.”
Niko frowned, unwilling to ask the stupid question but needing to know all the answers he could. “If the killer pressed their mouth directly to Indigo’s chest, would that serve to focus the sound enough?”