by Jenn Burke
By the way Hudson’s name was pronounced, I knew it was Marcus Kenworth, our asshole neighbor. Because that was exactly what we needed. I rolled my eyes and got up to meet Kenworth before he could further intrude on our gathering.
“Can I help you?” I asked, unable to keep the frost out of my tone.
Kenworth had a plastic smile on his face. “I wanted to check to see you got my note earlier.”
I frowned. “No, sorry. We’ve been a little busy.”
“You should always make a point of checking your mailbox, Mr. Cooper.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, since you’re here now, go ahead and tell me what your note was about.”
“Your new, uh...decorations.”
I looked over Kenworth’s shoulder to the three blow-up decorations on the lawn on the other side of the driveway. A ghost, a vampire and a witch. They’d made me laugh when I saw them in the store, so of course I’d picked them up. “Problem?”
“Yes. We prefer elegant and tasteful decorations in this neighborhood. Those—” he shuddered “—are not.”
“But they’re fun.”
“They’re ugly.”
I stiffened. “They’re on private property.”
“They don’t fit in with our neighborhood atmosphere, and the sound of the fan that keeps them inflated is quite loud.”
“They’re not hurting anyone—”
“They’re hurting the look of our neighborhood, Mr. Cooper. I trust you’ll do the right thing.” With a smile that was more of a smirk, he turned and walked away.
From behind me, Juanita said, “What an asshole.”
I agreed wholeheartedly...and I’d had enough.
Chapter Nine
I knocked softly on the door of Iskander’s guest room. It was closing in on midnight, which was fairly early for our crew, but after all the food at the barbecue and the various stresses we’d been under, it seemed everyone had turned in early.
Except me and my overactive brain.
When I didn’t hear anything from beyond the door, I rapped again. “Isk?”
It jolted open to reveal Iskander with a sleep-rumpled pompadour and a stubbled chin. “What?”
“Oh, good, you’re up.”
He narrowed his eyes and went to close the door.
I shoved my foot in the way. “Wait—I need your help.”
Isk opened the door again and leaned against the frame. “With what?”
“Reconnaissance.”
“I beg your pardon?”
I lowered my voice. “I need your help to spy on someone.”
“Who?”
“Marcus Kenworth.”
“Why?”
“When I went out to turn off the blow-up figures tonight, I found them already deflated.” At Isk’s blank look, I said, “Someone poked holes in them!”
“That sucks. You think it was Kenworth?”
“Has to be. He’s the only one who cares. So I need to find something to use against him.”
The furrow in his brow deepened. “Wes...you’re a ghost.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to ghost into this guy’s house. That would be rude.”
“So you’re waking me up because that’s less rude?”
“This is a perfect opportunity for you to practice being a wolf! You can sniff around, investigate, and then come back to me to let me know what you found.” I gave him a bright smile. “Good idea, right?”
He stared at me for a few seconds, then tried to close the door again.
“Wait, Isk—”
“Hudson could do the same thing, you know. Or Evan.”
I made a dismissive sound. “Hudson thinks I should let it go. Take the high road, and all that shit. And Evan’s sleeping.”
“Hud’s not wrong.”
“Yes, he is! Kenworth is such an asshole. I’ll bet he’s hiding something.”
“Wes—”
“He’s probably focusing on all of his neighbors to keep the attention off himself.”
“Your deductive skills are truly something.”
“Right?” I grinned. “So you’ll help?”
“You’re not going to leave me alone until I do, are you?”
“Nope.”
Some people might have said Iskander’s answering groan was mournful in quality. I preferred to think of it as committed.
* * *
Kenworth’s estate was next door to ours, though the size of the lots meant he couldn’t easily see onto our property, and vice versa. It also meant he made special trips to fuck with us. That made the situation that much worse, as far as I was concerned, because who went out of their way to make someone else’s life miserable?
His house was all square, with clean lines and huge rectangular windows—modern architecture at its worst. It looked like an apartment building and an office tower had a litter, and this was the runt. I much preferred the nouveau-Victorian style that our place had going on. Instead of flower gardens, he had...rock gardens? Or maybe they were intended to be sculptures, I wasn’t sure. There were clumps of boulders here and there, with gravel and river rock surrounding them to discourage weeds from showing their annoying green heads.
Iskander—in wolf form—found a place for us to hunker down right inside the gate, behind a pair of especially large boulders and a spindly tree. There was only sparse lighting, so I couldn’t see much, and the one set of floor-to-ceiling windows on this side was dark.
Iskander huffed at me.
“That’s why I brought you. Go, do your sniffing thing.”
He let out a low growl.
“Please?”
He huffed again and slinked off, staying in the shadows next to the hedges that bordered Kenworth’s property.
“What are you doing?”
Before I could shout, a hand shot out and covered my mouth—and I recognized Hudson’s smoky cedar scent. I slapped his hand away and glared at my boyfriend—and oh, great, he’d brought Evan too.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“I asked you first.”
“I’m...gathering intel.”
Hudson arched a brow. “On Kenworth?”
Evan bowed his head, his shoulders shaking.
“What?” I demanded.
He shook his head and didn’t look up. Jerk.
“I didn’t want to ghost into the guy’s house—”
“Big of you.”
“—so Iskander is doing some recon.”
Hudson tilted his head toward the house’s side yard. “I think he found something.”
I snapped to attention and watched as a half dozen cats swarmed Iskander, weaving between his legs, against his haunches, and standing up on their back legs so they could rub their cheeks against his nose. Iskander stood stock still, looking like little more than a statue.
The side door opened, and Kenworth called out in a singsong voice, “Kitties! Time to come in!” He shook something that sounded like crackers in a box.
Suddenly another six cats, at least, emerged from the darkness and streamed to the side door. The ones surrounding Iskander gave in to the sound of treats—I assumed—and abandoned him for food. Typical.
“What’s this?”
Kenworth ventured down the stairs and my heart stopped. Shit, what if he called animal control? What if he realized Iskander was a wolf and called the police? Goddamn it, I hadn’t thought this all the way through.
I also hadn’t counted on Isk’s consummate wolfy acting skills.
He whined and dropped to his belly, framing his long snout between his two paws.
“Oh, no, hush. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
Isk rolled onto his side and wagged his tail.
“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Kenworth cooed. �
�Do you want to come in and have some treats too? I think I’ve got some left over from the last handsome boy who passed through.”
That sounded kind of dirty.
“I won’t hurt you. Come in where it’s warm, and I’ll get you something to eat, all right?”
Iskander flipped back to his feet and followed Kenworth inside.
I wasn’t sure if I should cheer or cry.
“I think your spy defected,” Evan whispered.
“Oh, shut up.”
I hugged myself and waited for Iskander to reemerge. After half an hour, I slipped halfway into the otherplane to try to stay warm. After an hour, I was starting to get a little annoyed.
“How long does it take to check out the guy’s house?” I muttered.
“Maybe he can’t get out,” Evan whispered.
I had sudden visions of Isk being stuffed into a dog crate, hoping for rescue. “Shit. Okay, I’m going in.”
I stepped fully into the otherplane and beelined for the side door. Most of the interior lights were off now, so hopefully that meant Kenworth had gone to bed. I ghosted through the door and found myself in a mudroom that also held a washer and dryer. Light from the hallway was enough for me to see an open shelf full of cat treats, cat food and kitty litter. All the things you needed to make sure your dozen cats were well taken care of.
I inched my way out of the mudroom and into the kitchen and family room area. There, I found a dozen feline eyeballs staring at me, even though I was fully in the otherplane. I couldn’t see them perfectly, since they were alive, but damn, I could feel their animosity. Some were silent, others were growling softly, the hair on their backs starting to rise. In the middle of all of them, on the floor in front of the lit gas fireplace, lay a larger form. I hadn’t seen Iskander’s wolf form from the otherplane before, but he was easy enough to identify.
I partially rematerialized and discovered that wolf-Isk was lying on his back, legs spread wide, and fast asleep. As though he were at home. Jesus. I hissed, “Iskander!”
He popped awake instantly, and rolled over onto his stomach. The growling from the cats intensified.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded. He had the grace to look sheepish. “Let’s go.”
He got up and preceded me through the house, back to the side door...where we discovered a pet flap. I glared at Isk. “Really? Didn’t you even try to get out?”
In response, he gave me a doggy grin, and slipped out through the flap.
* * *
After reveling in the blackmail material I now had on Kenworth—because a quick visit with Google let me know that the maximum number of animals allowed in a residence in Toronto was six—I crashed hard, and dreamed of standing in front of the man, going “Nyah nyah” and waggling my hands at him. I woke up a few hours after dawn, thanks to my old-man bladder, and I was surprised to see Hudson sitting up in bed, reading. Crawling back under the covers after my visit to the bathroom, I cuddled up next to him, and he lifted his arm out of the way to accommodate me.
“Can’t sleep?” I yawned. We’d mostly adopted a human sleep cycle, though we usually didn’t go to bed until well into the wee hours of the morning.
“Brain won’t shut off,” he admitted, putting his book down. It was a police procedural mystery, because of course it was. You could take the boy out of the police, but you couldn’t take the police out of the boy.
“Want to talk about it?”
“You should go back to sleep.”
“So should you.”
He grunted, his “you’re probably right, but I’m not going to” grunt.
“You get grumpy when you don’t sleep,” I pointed out.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
He shook his head, but he was smiling. “Go to sleep, jackass.”
“Well, just for that, I’m going to make you talk.” I sat up as Hudson lifted an eyebrow. Oh, man, it was on. “You don’t think I can?”
“I’m not ticklish.”
“Who said anything about tickling you?”
I let my hand roam under the covers, toward his groin, and his eyes flashed golden as he clued in. I half expected him to stop me, but he leaned back and opened his legs a little.
I grinned. “Subtle, Rojas.”
“Like you didn’t beeline right there yourself.” He let out a low, soft groan as my fingers found his half-hard dick. I loved that he slept in the nude.
“Is this a complaint I’m hearing?” I trailed featherlight strokes along his length.
He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were all gold. Oh, yeah, someone was turned on. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
I pushed the blanket aside and scooted over and down, so I was lying in between his legs. As I watched, his erection firmed up, and I leaned forward to give it a kiss.
“Tease,” he hissed.
I licked the head with the very tip of my tongue. “Talk to me.”
“Put it in your mouth, sweetheart.”
That wasn’t what I’d meant, but okay. I smiled, then opened my mouth to take in the crown. My tongue swirled around his glans and I sucked hard enough to make him gasp. Slowly, I lowered my head, taking in more, and more, before retreating.
“Fuck,” he rasped. His fangs had descended and his cock was hard as steel now. “More.”
I obliged. No one would ever accuse me of being a champion dick sucker, but I loved the noises Hudson made as he used me to pursue his orgasm. It was powerful and hot, and I found myself rubbing my own rigid dick against the mattress. It wasn’t quite enough to bring me off, but it made me moan around Hudson’s hardness. His thighs quivered—and I drew off quickly, pinching the base of his cock to stave off his climax.
“Wes!”
I licked my lips again. “Talk to me.”
“Suck my dick,” Hudson countered, his glowing eyes narrowed.
I waited, and he waited, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, I bent down to take him in my mouth once more. Until his thighs started trembling again, a sure sign he was getting close. I released him with a pop.
This time his wail was wordless.
“Talk to me.”
He growled...a sound that turned into a whimper when I licked him from base to tip, keeping my eyes on his the whole time.
“C’mon, Hud. Give in,” I whispered.
“I don’t—don’t even know.”
“Yes, you do.” I dipped my tongue into his slit, then rubbed my lips down one side of his dick and up the other.
“I want to come. I need to come.”
“And I want to let you.” I tugged on his balls, gently, before letting a finger drift down, across his taint.
Hudson squirmed, as though his body was torn between welcoming the invasion and avoiding it. “No fucking fair.”
“Do you like it?” I stopped, struck by the idea that maybe he didn’t. We hadn’t discussed limits in so many words—Hudson had always understood that sometimes sex held no interest for me, and back when we’d dated in the eighties, I’d known that he wasn’t totally comfortable with butt stuff. Maybe a finger on his rim, and that was it. Yay heteronormative conditioning and stupid expectations of what being manly meant.
In response, Hudson bent his knees and braced his feet on the mattress, opening himself up even more. “Yes,” he growled.
“Are you sure?”
“Wes—”
“Because you—it wasn’t your thing back when—and I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“Stop.”
“But you’re always so good to me when—”
“Stop,” he said again, with a little chuckle. “Please go back to what you were doing.”
“Are you—”
He grabbed my hand and jerked me fo
rward, awkwardly placing my fingers at his entrance. “Yes. Touch me there and suck me.”
He groaned when I lifted my hand away from him—but then his mouth opened slightly when I licked my fingers. This time, when I found his entrance, I pushed the tip of one finger inside at the same time that I took his dick into my mouth.
“Oh, Wes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
My finger sank into him, up to the second knuckle, and he keened. The sound alone was almost enough to make me come.
I let him slip out of my mouth, but kept my finger where it was. “You going to talk to me?”
“You—you—”
“I’ll let you come if you promise.”
“Wesley—”
I pushed my finger in deeper and found that special little bundle of nerves.
“Oh, fuck! Yes, okay, yes, please!”
Immediately I fastened my lips over his dick again, and it took only seconds before he was howling out his orgasm. As always, it was dry—vampires didn’t produce seminal fluid. Which actually worked for me, because I hated swallowing.
I kept his dick in my mouth through each thrust and spasm, until he collapsed back on the bed and swiped a hand at my head to get me to move. I repositioned myself beside him and laid my head on his chest, listening to his heart pound. Unlike in the vampire legends, Hudson wasn’t actually dead—at the moment he would have died, the magic of his sire healed him, replacing the magic of human life with blood magic.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasped, then jolted as another aftershock rolled through him.
“So what’s on your mind?” I propped my chin on one of his pecs, enjoying the rasp of his chest hair against my skin.
He focused on me with some difficulty. “You expect me to string together words after that?”
“That was the deal.”
He grunted, which I took to mean “fuck your deal.” I was pretty fluent in Hudson nonverbalisms at this point. I flicked his nipple.
He flinched. “Hey!”
“Talk.”
He rolled his eyes. “I feel guilty, okay?”
“About?”
“About not being there for Lance. When Priya...” He pressed his lips together. “When he needed support.”