“Don"t worry?” Ray was burning up, his voice rough.
“You murdered people.”
“Not my hands.” Ross actually believed that. Ray
exhaled.
“I never asked you to kill!”
“But you wanted to. You couldn"t because they wouldn"t
let you. They didn"t understand you.” As though Ross did. If
there was any point at all, Ray would have denounced it. His
throat hurt. He thought he was growling, must have been.
Ross"s eyes lit up, misinterpreting that.
His smell was familiar. Of
course
Ray had found it at
every crime scene where Ross had made sure he"d been with
him. It was heavy with need. So much need. And that dark
vein of resentment. Anger. He looked over, away from Ray,
and right at Cal.
Ray stepped forward again so Ross"s eyes came back to
him.
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“I"ve done what you said. Been better. And you didn"t
even
notice
.” Need. So much of it. For attention, love,
recognition, Ray didn"t know, and didn"t really give a damn.
“But I"ve decided to take care of that.” The promise in the
man"s voice made him stop. Ross waved toward the table.
The cups. There were three, one off to the side.
“I have something else for you.” Ross must have been
practicing his magic. Ray slowly approached the table, cups
of tea and one of something else. He sniffed, smelled cloves
and nutmeg, saffron, blood and hair, iron and rust, and
other things that didn"t belong in a coffee cup that read:
Cops do it with handcuffs
.
That cup had been a gag gift from his sister. He"d always
suspected Cal when it had disappeared from the station
months ago.
Ray looked at him, then at Ross.
“A potion? Seriously?” Those ingredients were to
enflame the senses. The smell alone made his mind burn.
Love potions were not a joke, were no better than roofies or
Spanish fly. Possibly worse, because they took the heart with
the body.
How dare he do this, this level of violation? If it hadn"t
been Ray it would have been with someone else. Anyone else
that would feed his fantasy. And for this pathetic excuse of
devotion, people in his town had died.
Ross was going on, still talking, promoting himself as
the better alternative to a half-fairy who pretended to solve
cases. A useless, fluttering little fairy who couldn"t even do
the jobs given him. He didn"t have the respect for the job or
for Ray. A half-breed who couldn"t keep his hands to himself.
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He might have gone on, but Ray then walked to the
table. He didn"t glance at the window, where Penn was
watching, waiting for a sign. She still couldn"t see Cal or
Steve from there. She"d be frustrated, but patient.
That was fine. Ray just had to get Cal out of there. Get
Cal out and then worry about Steve and luring Ross out of
that circle.
“
You
?” He raised his voice. He was going to do it. The
wolf was howling for it and he wanted to, after all this time.
“You don"t understand me. You don"t even understand
Weres,” he said dismissively, because a sick little wannabe
cub wasn"t worth his time.
His skin tightened, his hair standing up on his arms, at
his neck. He reached for the cup, and his hand felt
unnatural. To his side, Cal was radiating terror. There was
no real way to reassure him, but hopefully he"d have the
sense to run when he could.
“This won"t work,” Ray told Ross, and shrugged. “But if
it will make you happy….” He drank the potion in one
swallow. He wanted to vomit but kept it down. The
ingredients alone showed how serious Ross was. This wasn"t
to inspire affection or lust, this was to own his spirit.
“Ray!” It was a whisper, nearly drowned out by Steve"s
exclamation. Ray ignored them both and looked right at Ross
to drive home the truth.
The man was almost vibrating as he waited, as he
watched, needing Ray to worship him. He was speaking
again, murmuring that now they"d be great and strong
together. Weres. As though Ray would make him one, as
though that was even remotely how it worked.
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“Your scent is empty like glass.” Even the words were
foul. But Ross"s anger was so deep that Ray could only think
of one reason why he"d missed it. He could miss anything
with Cal around, and that was the point.
He threw the cup. Ross flinched as it shattered, finally
growing quiet, and turned to Ray with his lips parted in
shock.
“Like nothing, which is what you are. If you knew
anything about me or my kind you"d know that—” He
paused, hoped Cal would understand why he had to do this.
He couldn"t look over to see for himself. Ross had to focus on
him.
Ray pulled in air. Cal, sweet, even under his fear.
“Callalily Parker is my mate.”
God, it was as raw now as the second he"d first realized
it, half-dressed in his living room in front of Cal"s sharp eyes.
Cal"s breathing stopped. Ross froze.
“He"s my mate, and there"s nothing you can do to
change that.” He needed Ross to hate him, just him. Not Cal.
“Really, dude? A fairy?” Steve cut through the tension.
“They can"t even sit still, no offense.” He was almost right. As
though to prove him right, Cal was suddenly all motion next
to him, kicking, panicking motion. Ray got louder.
“He"s the one I"ve chosen, but even without him do you
really
think I"d want
you
?” He sneered, swallowing the
disgusting flavor coating his mouth. Cal was making tiny
noises of protest, then no sound at all. Ross was shaking,
refusing to believe it. Ray struck out again, shredding that
delusion and hoping rage would replace it. He wanted Ross
out of that circle. He wanted Ross under his claws.
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“Look at you! You"re not even a detective. Nothing
special. You have nothing to offer me.”
Ross almost crumbled, his knees weakening for one
second before he straightened them and stood up. He tossed
his head, denying it, and then damn it, damn it, he took his
eyes off Ray.
“You don"t mean that, Detective,” he insisted with a
silky calm. “You"ll see when he"s dead. He"s only fairy-leading
you. But it can"t last when he"s dead. Demon, kill him.”
“Sorry, bro,” Steve murmured, and Ray turned, his
heart stopping, slamming into his ribs. He screamed, or tried
to as he changed, and it became a baying cry, and then he
was wolf, leaping for the throat of the thing holding Cal.
Steve turned too, startled and swinging out, his claws
tearing across Ray"s chest. Ray was knocked sideways and
landed on the floor but sprang up again, going for the arm
holding Cal. He bit down hard, sinking his fangs into muscle
and shutting his eyes when Steve shouted and tried to shake
him free.
The wolf was big, but Steve was so much bigger.
To the side, Cal slumped to the floor, a slight thud of
sound, and then Ray was slammed into a wall to make him
let go, and he couldn"t keep track of Cal anymore. He bit
down harder and heard shouting, words he couldn"t
understand. But the rage was clear, and he scrambled with
his claws to stay on the demon, tearing more flesh.
The blood was bitter. Hot. Steve was yelling.
Someone
was yelling, all the voices were indistinct with a kill so close,
and then Ray"s breath left him as he hit the wall again. His
head bounced back, cracking, everything blinking out as he
fell. He shuddered at the jolt of landing on the floor and felt
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the discomfort and ache of shifting back into a man without
being able to stop it.
But he had to move, and watched his hands,
hands
,
push him up onto his feet. It was difficult to move, as though
the very air was shrinking. In front of him there was a
sudden scream and at his side the demon moaning. In relief.
Ray looked up.
Ross was stuck with half his body outside his circle,
reaching for Cal with rage contorting his face until he turned
and saw the vengeful demon now striding toward him. He
tried to step back, too late, into the safety of the chalk circle,
and give orders that no longer had to be obeyed.
There was a shot. Loud over breaking glass. Steve barely
slowed, though the bullet hit him in his shoulder. He
reached Ross and knocked him back into the bricks of the
fireplace. Ray could understand words again, felt his mind
clear enough to speak.
“Steve!” English still felt strange. The world was
spinning, but Ray had to stop this before it got uglier. Penn,
he thought. That had been her shot. He hoped she"d called
for backup. “Cal, get out of here!”
Ross got backhanded again, hit the opposite wall and
groaned, the air forced from his lungs. “Wait, demon!”
“Steve, don"t!” Ray tried again, stumbling forward. Steve
picked Ross up.
“He made me kill people, Ray. I didn"t even know those
dudes!”
“I know, I know! And the law"s on your side. For that
and for the murders there"s no way he"s going free. Now,
please.” Ray licked his lips. “Don"t make me have to arrest
you for this too.”
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The crack of Ross"s arms being broken like twigs wasn"t
nearly as grotesque as the sound of Ross screaming.
“Enough!” Ray barked, and Steve dropped Ross to the floor.
The man was crying. Steve nudged him with his hoof and
then pushed up his glasses. Ray shivered.
He looked at Cal, who was still there of course. Because
he"d been told to go, he was still there. A shuddering, pale,
glitterless figure by the chalk circle.
“You okay, little guy?” Steve asked Cal, ignoring his own
bleeding wounds. “Did I hurt you too bad?”
“What?” Cal was staring at Ross, then at Ray. His eyes
went wide, and Ray belatedly wiped his mouth, trying to get
rid of the blood but only smearing it. He wasn"t sure he
wanted to know what Cal thought of the wolf. What he"d
seen. “Oh, I"m fine.” Cal swallowed, his words faint, but
Steve sighed to hear it.
Then Penn was there too. Ray smelled her without
turning, imagined her taking in the scene. Steve looked back
at him.
“That guy is sick, Ray. He kept talking the whole time….
I guess it was about you. You don"t want to know.”
“
I
do,” Cal whispered, his voice going firm even with
Ross still crying on the floor, and Ray stared at him, not
blinking.
“And he never once asked my name….” Steve was still
complaining now that he was free. Ray didn"t care. Cal was
brightening by the second, startlingly quick with so much
suffering around him, and Ray didn"t think he"d ever get
tired of Cal surprising him. He was on his feet, alive.
Unharmed. Wings crushed, but no doubt already healing.
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“Penn?” Ray whispered, and she came into his line of
sight, gun drawn. He felt himself sway.
“They"re on their way, Ray. EMS too.”
Steve turned to study her, then pushed up his glasses.
He still didn"t seem to feel his torn and bitten arm, or his
gunshot wound.
“Hey, Detective Del Mar, you"re looking nice tonight.”
His red face seemed to get even redder. “Ray just mentioned
the last time you guys had to track me down. Remember
that? It was
embarrassing
. Oh, about that forty bucks I owe
you, Ray—”
“I don"t care.” Ray wheezed and then put out a hand to
stay up, though the table, the walls, were so far away. He
couldn"t breathe and looked down, at his bare feet first, and
then at his torso. It hurt. His whole body hurt. He was
bleeding too. He was suddenly so very tired, like he"d been
running all night, every night.
“Ray?”
Oh, right. He had.
Almond milk and chocolate chip cookie scent wafted to
him. Ray turned to Cal, smiling to see sparkles again. Cal"s
hand went to Ray"s chest, and there was that light one more