so close to him all day, after weeks without a glimpse of him,
he didn"t need the room to relive the memory of that first
painful moment.
The whole night was as clear as the water in a scrying
bowl, from the second the door had closed behind Lex and
Ray had crossed his arms and faced his uninvited guest, to
how he"d finally had to tell Cal to leave.
He remembered standing like that, stiff, his posture so
defensive that he"d known it. It had only left him more
agitated without even knowing why, and he shut his eyes.
He reopened his eyes at the memory that had been
taunting him all day, pulling himself back from the brink
and inhaling desperately as though any trace of Cal had
lingered in his home in the years since that night. He was
shaking when he exhaled, so very tired he knew he wouldn"t
be able to resist a little crutch tonight.
Not scotch, though a glass or two would have been nice.
He wasn"t meant to deny his nature like this. It wasn"t
right. But he had a beer and then went to bed without
finishing his book or that letter to his sister. He knew why he
was exhausted and also how to fix it, so he didn"t shower
either, leaving the scent of Cal all over him as he undressed
and slid into bed.
Then from his nightstand, he pulled out his last resort
for a good night"s sleep. He was still on edge from his arousal
earlier. It had taken forever for his erection to go down, with
Cal"s eyes on him nearly the whole time, knowing.
Desire like that was like being neither here nor there,
between being Wolf and Man, like being aroused with no
relief in sight.
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Ray shut his eyes and debated shifting before sighing
and shaking his head. Senses even more acute might be the
death of him right now, so he shut off the lamp by the bed
and stayed human as he put the towel up to his nose.
Cal had left it behind after a department softball game,
and his human male sweat had been all over it. Ray had felt
foolish picking it up, creepy taking it home, but there were
very few options when your mate wasn"t available, and this
was one of them.
It still shimmered faintly in the right light, but Ray kept
his eyes closed and stayed in the dark and just breathed it
in, relaxing enough to sleep.
AS THOUGH Ray once again somehow had traces of glitter
still on him—something that was
seriously
damn well
impossible—Parker"s gaze had been especially intense on
him all day. Cal couldn"t read minds, Ray had had to remind
himself, it just felt like he could.
Ray had detected Cal"s trail at the station before he"d set
foot inside, so at the coffee cart outside he"d bought four
coffees, one with extra sugar and full of flavored syrup. In
fact, it was mostly syrup. He"d handed it to Cal without a
word and then looked away before he could blush or do
something else stupid like admit to guilt over using Cal"s
scent to fall asleep.
Cal had gulped it down and then shared his sugar high
with most of the station, male and female, Being and
human, while Ray and Penn ran down locations on some of
their suspect pool. They"d even called a few in for interviews
that hadn"t gone anywhere.
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Benedict had left for his other job around noon, when
Penn had also insisted Ray eat more than just donuts with
his coffee. After two burgers, rare, they"d decided to head out
for the rest of the interviews. If working at his desk next to
Parker was bad, being trapped in the same car with him for
hours at a time was torture. Exquisite torture. His smell and
body heat so close, that running mouth offering startling
thoughts on everything from string theory to the perfect glaze
for pastry.
They"d worked another case once involving glazed pastry
and a particularly gruesome murder. Cal had stopped eating
Danishes and all other breakfast pastries afterward for
months. It was only when Ray had left a donut heavy with
sprinkles out for him—the brightest sprinkles he could find,
chock full of so much food coloring it should have been
toxic—that Cal had finally started to enjoy baked goods
again. Not Danishes anymore, not ever again, but his love for
sprinkled donuts was a thing to behold.
But in between his pastry lectures and driving Ray crazy
with a thousand casual touches from the backseat, Parker
had been eating candy buttons from a roll of wax paper—if
Cal could single handedly keep candy stores in business, the
demand from the rest of the fairies could fuel an entire
industry—and leaving sticky fingerprints and bits of paper in
the backseat until Ray had snapped for him to clean it up.
“You"re so anal, Branigan.”
“You try living with heightened senses in a human world
and see how much you enjoy a mess.”
He had at least had the satisfaction of knowing that
after that, the bits of paper had mysteriously disappeared. It
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had only been lessened somewhat by then having to listen to
Cal lick his fingers clean.
Ray had shifted in his seat. Penn had given Ray a look.
She did it again as she got out of the car back at the
station, well aware that they"d wasted a day and that his
mood wasn"t any better than hers. His was actually worse,
since Penn wasn"t fighting every instinct in her body.
He looked back at her, watching her finish another
bottle of seawater and tactfully not commenting as their
absent-minded genius scrambled out of the backseat,
stretched invitingly, then dashed into the station in search of
a bathroom. Ray realized he"d forgotten to ask where Cal had
purchased those candy buttons and to remind him to keep
his nose out of his other cases. He sighed.
“Suddenly everyone has an alibi,” Ray declared to Penn
instead, twisting to look at the rising moon, the setting sun.
“I"m going to get some dinner.”
“I"m going home,” she announced. “Call me if we get
something.” With a wave and another sip that made him
wrinkle his nose, she was heading toward her car. He could
have gone home too, but frustration carried him back into
the station.
The captain saw him and called him over, letting him
know Perretti had friends working on posting his bail, but
then grinned as he added that they probably wouldn"t be
able to raise the money. Apparently the ADA working the
case had asked for and gotten a newer, higher amount, as
some detective had been very emphatic in their belief that
Perretti was a flight risk.
Lex was good. Ray could almost smile for that, but then
hearing that Perretti had friends was enough to make him
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frown again. The man
was
a flight risk. He"d vanished for
years and had no known address.
“You"d better lock this up. You have a bigger case
waiting.” Murphy was stern, and Ray didn"t blame him for
that. But the idea that Nasreen"s attack was somehow less
serious, when she could have died, made him narrow his
eyes.
He didn"t growl; he didn"t threaten. He never did. But
his chin came up, and Captain Murphy"s expression
changed. He wasn"t afraid, but if anything, his look grew
thoughtful. After a moment he relaxed, shrugging in an
admission that if that case hadn"t involved a fairy it would
have been a murder, and was no less serious.
Ray nodded.
“Yes, sir,” he responded quietly, and Murphy hesitated
again. Ray was pretty certain it was because the man was
thinking of asking about the new case. Things involving
magic made him uncomfortable, even after years of exposure
to them, something that the department rumor mill said
involved a scorned sorceress, though personally Ray found
that hard to imagine. He couldn"t imagine Murphy with
anyone. He couldn"t even imagine him as a child.
Murphy had come up through the ranks with Calvin
Parker. Ray knew that much. Though he didn"t know which
side of the gossip the man believed, if he believed any of it.
He just grunted.
“How are the consultants treating you?” Unlike when
most people said it, there was no insinuation in his voice.
Ray took that as a good sign. “Aguirre has nothing but praise
for them. I told that guy when he transferred in. We keep
only the best around here.”
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“Fine. Fine. They"re fine.” Ray was a firm believer in the
“No Comment” rule. That was all that Murphy wanted to
hear about it or anything else magic anyway.
Whatever his reasons, the captain decided not to ask
anything else, and with another awkward nod and a tug at
the suspenders that were struggling to keep his pants up,
Captain Murphy left, and Ray turned back toward his desk.
“How"d it go?” A few uniforms were hanging around the
coffee machine as he walked by, and he immediately
scowled. He was tired. He was cranky. He was, in other
words, as wound up as he could be after hours in Cal"s
company without touching him
or
catching a killer.
“You don"t need to work so hard to catch the guy.” One
of them clearly read his annoyance, but Ray turned on them
with his eyebrow up. “Probably done you a favor, right? Not
wasting your time catching bad guys who"ll just get off. And
we all know what you"d really do to the guy if you had your
way.”
“Shut up,” Ray snapped, loud enough to be heard in
Booking, and damn, he needed to go home. They were just
expressing the frustration that they"d all felt from time to
time and he was overreacting. “You have no idea what you"re
talking about,” he added, extending hands that were
currently not paws at them to wave them away. “Get back to
work.”
As though he wanted the hateful stench of murder in
his town. As though he was an indiscriminate killer or would
admire one. He turned on his heel to head back out,
knowing he was leaving fear in the air behind him.
He"d officially had too much frustration for one day. Too
restless to stop now he headed down the street for some
Puerto Rican takeout and then went back to the car.
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He ought to drive home. Or go inside. But with the
possibility of Cal or those ignorant
idiots
still in the station
and his stomach growling, he just sat in the driver"s seat and
opened the carton. His mouth was full of seasoned beefsteak
when the passenger door opened and Cal swung inside.
He slid down and got comfortable before Ray could
swallow.
“Eating in the car? Really? You need a life, Branigan.
And you just ate dinner. I was there. You had tacos. In fact,
you"ve eaten like six times today.”
“
You
pull something sweet out of thin air almost
constantly. And it"s best not to starve a werewolf.” Good
advice. And it kept him from having to explain why he"d been
so ravenous lately. He bared his teeth and then went back to
eating. He heard Cal take a few fast breaths as the interior
light went out. He wished it was fear, but he knew Cal was
turned on even without smelling it. He knew that scent, had
it memorized for his dreams. It was unmistakable.
“Then I"ll resist the urge to tease you about your
insatiable appetite.” But of course, it was as though Cal
knew anyway what Ray was desperate for.
With his head down, Ray had plenty of time to think of
answers to that. Most of which he couldn"t say. He finished
his sandwich, munched a fried plantain, then closed the
carton and put it on the floor at Cal"s feet without actually
touching him.
“Why are you here?” It was a potentially explosive
question. Maybe fairies sucked at deception, but they could
always try. Not that Cal had any reason to lie. He just looked
hurt—Ray could see him clearly even with little light. He
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