Spellbound (20 page)

“What the fuck is your problem?” Elion shouted. Stavros smirked and dropped his feet to the floor with a loud thunk.

“I need the Muzari case file.” The older man shrugged. Elion ground his teeth and crossed the room with tensed, hard strides. The drawer made a protesting sound as he ripped it open and grabbed the stack of files sitting inside. They hit the desk and scattered slightly as he thumbed through them and retrieved one from the middle with little effort. It hit Stavros’ desk unceremoniously despite being thrown down and that only pissed Elion off further. His fingernails dug stinging crescents into his palms as he glared at Stavros, who sat unfazed by the display of mild aggression.

“You couldn’t do that? You couldn’t walk across the room and open that drawer? Better yet, you couldn’t just
ask
me over the phone?” Elion asked through clenched teeth. It didn’t matter what happened now because the night was ruined. Malachi would be sobering up or passed out and he wasn’t going to get the man hammered on a regular basis just to see if he would spill any dirty secrets.

Stavros only shrugged.

“How was your date?” Stavros asked before Elion could lunge forward and wrap his fingers around that beautiful throat.

“It was wonderful,” Elion said smugly. “He’s a nice guy.”

Stavros growled lowly and narrowed his eyes. “No, he isn’t.”

“That’s not really your decision to make is it?” Elion asked tauntingly. “Now, can I go home or do you need me to read the file to you as well? Surely you can sound out the words.”

Stavros completely ignored Elion’s attempt at insulting him and lazily waved a hand like Elion was nothing more than a servant being excused. The frosted glass window of their office door rattled when Elion slammed it. His breaths were heavy in his chest and his nostrils flared as he stormed down the hallway. For the first time since his arrival his coworkers didn’t smile at him or nod in greeting, they stepped aside and gave looks of worry and hesitant intrigue, which was just as well. Elion had doubts he wouldn’t punch the first person that even said hello.

His apartment wasn’t spared from his wrath as he slammed cabinets and chugged a glass of juice in the most aggressive way he could muster, because that’s what his life had been reduced to; angrily drinking juice.

He dropped onto the couch and toed off his shoes while dialing Mikhail’s number. The sorcerer answered with a groggy greeting a few rings in.

“How did it go?” Mikhail asked. Elion snorted as he unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, his phone caught between his cheek and shoulder.

“It would have gone a lot better had Stavros not been a complete bastard,” he huffed. “He wouldn’t stop calling me and then,
then,
“ Elion sucked in sharply. “When I was maybe getting somewhere, he has an officer call and tell me I have to come in asap. I get there and it was for a
file
that was sitting right in my desk
,
Mikhail. I thought something had-” Elion’s voice cracked and he fell quiet, humiliated. Mikhail was silent for a moment before he sighed heavily.

“Maybe this was a bad idea. I can’t allow your partnership to be effected for answers we might never find.”

“Partnership?” Elion scoffed. “Is that what we’re calling the hot mess between Stavros and I?”

“Well, what happened?” Mikhail asked curiously. Elion breathed a sad laugh, his cheeks darkening and his eyes aching.

“I don’t know,” was all he managed, and it was an honest answer. Elion sighed quietly and pushed out the images trying to settle into his tired mind. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“I asked you to call when you got in, Elion,” Mikhail said, exasperated. “Get some rest.”

~~

“I’m
still not signing it,” Elion said firmly while keeping his eyes locked on his computer screen. Stavros growled and reached for Elion’s shoulder. Elion jerked away at the last second and shot Stavros a daring look. “Touch me and I’ll break your fingers.”

“Didn’t seem to have a problem with it before,” Stavros taunted. Elion’s palms stung as they slapped against his desk. He was passed heartache and anger- he was just
done.
The prior two weeks had drained him. He was getting nowhere with Malachi and their frequent dates. Stavros always seemed to know, despite Mikhail swearing he wasn’t telling Stavros anything.

“Am I interrupting?” a deep voice asked from the doorway. Stavros’ eyes bled black instantly and Elion could only smile smugly.

“Nope. Just finishing up,” Elion said extra sweetly. Malachi smiled brightly and he stooped down to kiss Elion’s cheek the second he was within range. Elion glanced over his shoulder at Stavros and his heart managed to sneak in a few off kilter beats before he could gain control again. The other man looked dejected, broken maybe, and it was almost too much.

“I’m just going to jump in the shower and we can decide on dinner,” Malachi said as he kicked off his shoes and began unbuttoning his uniform that had streaks of drying blood on it from a combative prisoner. “You know you’re welcome to join me.”

Elion smiled over the disgust souring his mouth and gestured for him to go as he sat on the couch and leaned his head back comfortably. Warm lips pressed to the corner of his mouth and he did his best to hold a smile until heavy footsteps were trailing away and a door closed softly.

Elion was instantly up and pulling his phone from his pocket. He scrolled through his inbox until he came to the message that Mikhail had sent him earlier. The man in the photo was older; and his hair was shorter and darker. There was a scar on his cheek and he looked thinner, but it wasn’t hard to see the make the confirmation between that man and the younger one in the photo with Malachi.

That’s him,
Elion quickly sent back, the humor not lost to him as he pictured the century old sorcerer trying to use a cell phone.

Elion pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and quietly made his way to the back of the apartment. He had been there several times, but had never seen Malachi’s bedroom; not that that was a horrible thing, he had his hands full coming up with reasons to keep Malachi’s hands from wandering below his belt already.

He grimaced when the door made a low squeak upon opening and he paused to make sure the water in the bathroom was still running. His palms felt clammy as he slipped inside and quickly glanced around. There was nothing that jumped out or screamed dangerous criminal straight away. It was a plain room with little else but basic furnishings.

Elion sneakily opened the dresser drawers to find a low stock of clothing, hardly enough for one person, workaholic bachelor or not. The small closet was the same with a few pressed uniforms hung neatly. Elion sighed and worried at his bottom lip in thought. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his almost nightly talks with Mikhail had landed them far off the course they needed to be on because, despite an affair with Victor and being creepy and now having proof that Malachi knew a criminal, there was nothing to suggest he knew about the robbery or murders.

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket and he released his bottom lip with an irritated grunt before he saw Mikhail’s name flashing across the screen.

“Yea?” Elion whispered.

“You’re certain that the man in both photos is the same?” Mikhail asked.

“There’s a definite time gap between the two, but yes. Why?” Elion asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as they followed a strange, almost invisible, seam in the wall molding. His fingers dragged along it before he shifted his cell phone between his cheek and shoulder. A thin panel popped off with little effort and Elion struggled to listen to the muffled sound of running water and Mikhail without dropping his phone. “Hold on,” he whispered, cutting Mikhail off.

Elion pulled out a short stack of wrinkled papers folded sloppily and glanced over his shoulder as if expecting Malachi to be watching him. He quickly unfolded the thin sheet of worn paper with shaky hands and bit his tongue to keep quiet. The blueprints were worn from constant handling, but the marks mapping out certain areas of the museum were direct and self-explanatory. Elion’s heart was pounding as he quickly folded it and stuck it back in the panel to shuffle through the remaining stack. Names, dates, and a few bent surveillance photos of the murdered Guardians were stuffed back in and the panel replaced before Elion remembered Mikhail was waiting for him. He left the room and closed the door just as the bathroom door was being opened down the hall. Elion darted into the kitchen and glanced over with a smile as Malachi rounded the corner.

“I understand, sir. I can be there in a few minutes.” Elion didn’t give the older man a chance to reply, not wanting to risk Malachi overhearing anything Mikhail would say.

“Again?” Malachi whined as he dragged his fingers through his wet hair.

“I’m sorry. Mikhail said there’s been an incident and-”

“I understand. I don’t like it, but I get it.” The larger man frowned before pulling Elion close to his chest and kissing him deeply. Elion cringed and did his best not to gag when Malachi’s tongue brushed over his own. Large hands squeezed his hips firmly before sliding over his backside and finally releasing him. “Call me when you get home.”

“Of course,” Elion said as he made his way to the front door.

The second that Elion was back in his own apartment, he was dialing Mikhail back, frowning when it took three rings for the man to answer. “It was him, or he’s at least in on it.”

“What proof do you have to back it up, Elion?” Mikhail asked seriously.

“I found blueprints of the museum marked out and there were photos of the victims. There were other things, plans, names… who was that in the photo anyway?” Elion asked, pacing the living room with anxious feet.

“Antonio Muzari; a dhampir that had his feeding license revoked three years ago. He was arrested for the murder of several humans and released due to lack of evidence, signed off by you,” Mikhail mumbled at the end and Elion cringed. A missing piece suddenly locked into place and Elion cussed under his breath.

Chapter 15

“I need you to come over,” Elion said. There was a long pause before Stavros groaned.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Stavros, this isn’t the time for you to be a jerk. It’s about the reason for our little vacation,” he hinted as he checked his door locks and flipped on extra lights for no real reason other than nerves.

“What about it?”

“It was all a set up,” Elion began, suddenly wide awake and slightly wired. “I told you I didn’t know how the files got mixed up. I do now. That shithead did it.”

“What shithead, Elion?” Stavros sighed exasperatedly. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re so dense!” Elion snapped. He threw himself onto the couch and began violently kicking his shoes off, possibly wishing that they were hitting Stavros’ face rather than the TV stand. “The mixed up case files- he’s got some type of relationship with Malachi. I saw them in a photo together at Malachi’s apartment and I knew he looked familiar. Mikhail found me his old mugshot. There’s a time difference between the photos, but it’s him. Tonight, I found a panel filled with blueprints, plans— enough to say without question that Malachi had a strong hand in the break-ins and murders.”

“I think you need to start from the beginning,” Stavros said tightly after a momentary pause.

Elion sighed and scrubbed a palm over his face before he began spilling everything. He told Stavros how he had planned to get close to Malachi to gather information about Victor, how Malachi had helped set it in motion by asking him out, and how it had all
clicked.
Malachi was using him to try and find out information, the case file being switched for a suspected murderer that he just so happened to know, and the suspect vanishing the second he was released, followed by robberies and murders that Malachi had plans for.

“You said it yourself, if there is a suspected breach you have to check it out and, let’s face it, Malachi wooing info out of you really wasn’t an option, but me, I’m just the gullible rookie kid with an asshole partner.”

There was a long pause and Elion could almost hear Stavros pinching the bridge of his nose and glaring.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Do not move,” he ordered before the line went dead.

Elion wasted no time in gathering the copies of files he had to show Stavros. It was simple, really, but whoever had thought it up would have had to know the protocol for such a situation, and that wasn’t Malachi. He could have easily slipped into the records room without much thought being put into it by other officers, but the information he would have been looking for wouldn’t have been there. Those files were secured by the Council, and even then they contained very little. Elion would give Malachi a bit of credit for thinking he could romance the information from him.

He jumped when there was a sharp knock at his door. Elion wet his lips and lurched off the couch to open the door for Stavros; not expecting to instantly freeze the second he pulled it open. Malachi looked down at him with a crooked, dark smile that made Elion shift uncomfortably as he did his best to stay calm.

“What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” he asked with a furrowed brow. Malachi lifted a long, muscular arm to show the coat hanging from his finger.