City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (41 page)

She bit her lip and tossed a look in the direction of the bedroom. “I should probably do that, huh?” But then her gaze came back and begged for answers. But Orin didn’t have any. Come to think of it, at the moment, he pretty much had nothing at all.

Haley sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

Orin watched as she pulled the cell phone out of her pocket and headed into the bedroom. When the door closed he looked at Deshi. The Male was getting out plates and cups.

Orin said, “I need you to leave for a while today.” The Prince flicked him a quick glance and carried the plates to the table. “I don’t want you here when I give her the RHage.” Deshi set out the plates. Orin curled his lip. “Did you hear me or have you gone deaf?”

“I heard you.”

“You can go to that coffee shop on the corner or something. We’ll call you on your cell when it’s over.” Orin watched the Prince, who was still more interested in the place settings.

When Deshi went back into the kitchen he said, “You know, you really are an arrogant bastard.”

Orin whipped his head around. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Yeah, he did, and it made him want to bring a total beat down on Prince-boy’s ass.

Orin stayed in his chair. “And what’s your problem?”

Deshi shook his head.

Orin said, “Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt. If something goes wrong and--”

Beautiful Deshi cut him off. “All the more reason for me to stay.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Quit being arrogant.”

Orin rolled his lips but kept his teeth to himself. Deshi would probably like seeing him act like a beast.

“I’ll stay out of your way,” Deshi said as he carried the silverware to the table and set it out next to the plates. Fork on the outside left, spoon on the right. He adjusted the plates and the glasses. When he stepped back a furrow creased his forehead.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like the stoneware pattern? Or maybe the glasses don’t match?” Orin made like he was checking out the tableware. “ Nope, not that. What? One of the forks too short or what?” He was hoping for a rise out of the Male.

But what he got was, “No salad forks. Makes it look wrong.” Deshi went back into the kitchen. “Look, I was there last night. I saw how scared you were when Medan told you to give Haley Serena’s RHage.”

Scared? Prince Perfect would be scared too if he had any idea. “Scared, huh? What about you? You practically had a hard on.” Their stares clashed across the counter. Orin sneered. “You act like you want Haley to get hurt or something. Why? So you can go all nursemaid?”

“You know I don’t want her hurt. That’s why I think leaving you two alone is a bad idea.”

Orin laughed. “What are you going to do if things go bad? Wave your platinum card around?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what on earth do you think you could possibly do? If I lose control and the RHage goes off, you wouldn’t last ten seconds.”

Deshi’s baby blues flashed. “And if those seconds could give Haley time to get out of here, it would be worth it.”

The reality of what the Jersey City Prince words meant made Orin look away. Behind him Deshi moved around the kitchen, opening cabinets and then the fridge. Going by all the little clicks, clangs, and microwave beeps, he was warming up cream.

From the kitchen the Prince said, “Look, I know I’m weak.”

Orin clenched his jaw. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know I’m
new
and I know if I wasn’t my Mother’s Son I’d be scraps in the bottom of the hatching grounds.” Orin did look at Deshi then. The other Male stared at the microwave. “This has to work, Orin.” The Prince dropped his head.

“You don’t think I realize that? Need I remind you I’m the one looking at eternity in Hell under Rehbek’ah’s claw?”

“Which is exactly why this has to work.” The microwave beeped and Deshi took out the three mugs and brought them to the table. He pulled out a chair and poured himself into it. Son of a bitch could make a piece of kitchen furniture look like a throne. Orin grabbed a cup and drank. When he burned his lips, he ignored the pain.

Across the table Deshi stared at his mug, his face calm. Practically blank.

And yet, Orin had the acute sense the Prince was drowning in thought. Which is probably why he asked, “Why is it so important to you that this works?”

The Prince blinked. Slow. He smiled and said, “Because Haley has to be able to save one of us.”

Orin’s brain hit a speed bump. “What?” As in
WTF are you talking about?
Save one of them? “You care to elaborate?”

Beautiful Deshi didn’t answer, he just drank his cream.

“Hello?” Orin rapped his knuckles on the table. “Do you mind?”

When Deshi finally put down his cup and raised his baby blues, Orin was struck by the depth of pain. Real pain. The kind that makes a Male bleed inside and out. Deshi said, “Haley has to be able to save one of us. If she can’t, it will break something inside her. And she can’t save me.”

Orin opened his mouth and closed it. He opened it again with full intentions of getting more out of the Jersey City Prince, but Haley came out of the bedroom, cell phone in hand. Her scent hit Orin’s nose and he couldn’t stop his head from turning. At the same time the hotel phone rang and Deshi got up to answer it.

“I had to call Garrett.” Haley waved the cell phone. “I called Farley’s phone three times and it kept dumping to voice mail, which can only mean one of two things. Either the battery is dead because he wasn’t where he could charge it, or it was damaged beyond use.”

She looked worried so Orin asked, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah.” But she didn’t sound convinced. “Garrett said he’s on an inside job and unreachable.” She hugged herself.

“What about you? Are you okay?” When she looked at him she smiled, and it was totally contagious.

The elevator opened and Deshi met room service at the threshold. Orin watched him pull out a roll of cash, peel off a bill and hand it to the service man. Prince-perfect took the cart and pushed it to the table. Going by the number of covered dishes there was enough food on the thing to feed an army. Or three Kin.

Haley made a happy sound and pulled out her chair. “What did you get?”

The Prince smiled.

Orin eyed the Male and said, “Whatever was most expensive.”

“Here, let me.” Haley made a grab for one of the plates but Deshi stopped her by pushing her hand away. “Deshi, we can self-serve.” He shook his head and his smile stayed firm.

Orin said, “He’s probably afraid we’ll mess up his place settings.” And yeah, he was doing it to be mean. Deshi flicked him a quick look but his expression didn’t change. Orin went to throw in another jab but the Jersey City Prince pulled the top off of the largest dish. Lobster. There must have been a dozen or more tails.

“I figured we should eat as well as we could.” And if there was a meat which could boost preternatural heat it was seafood. As short lived as it was in the system, it had a lot of bang for its buck. Metaphysically speaking.

Orin couldn’t help himself. “We?”

Instead of replying, Deshi uncovered another dish, filet mignon and shrimp.

Orin growled. “Wait. There is no ‘we’, Deshi!”

The Prince proceeded to fill everyone’s plates.

Haley shoved a shrimp in her mouth and flicked her gaze back and forth between the Males. “Problem?”

“No.” That from both of them. Their glares clashed.

Haley made a time out with her hands, “Whoa, wait a minute. What’s going on?”

“Him.” Again from both.

Orin growled and Deshi kept his eyes on the food he was serving.

An angry sound leaked out of Haley’s lips as she put away another finger-sized shrimp. She jabbed the tail at each of them. “One of you better start talking because I’m about to get pissed.”

Orin sat back in his chair and shoved his plate away. Deshi snapped his napkin in the air and put it in his lap as he sat.

Haley smacked her fist against the table hard enough to make the silverware jump. “Now!”

Deshi spoke first. “Orin wants me to leave for a while so you two will be alone.”

Haley’s eyes went to Orin and her expression said he’d better start moving his lips.

He scrubbed his face. “Look, I just don’t want him here in case anything goes wrong.”

“No,” Deshi said, “He doesn’t want me to see him naked.”

Orin shot the Prince a glare, but with his face on fire it meant he was doing his impersonation of a stop sign, which totally killed the effect. Pissed, Orin shoved food in his mouth because he had to bite something.

Haley looked at him. “You’re embarrassed?

Orin: “No.”—Deshi: “Yes”

Orin threw out his hand. “Do you really want him in the way if something goes wrong? Neither one of you could possibly comprehend how bad things could get. This isn’t going to be a warm fuzzy spit swapping session. There is a very real possibility I could kill one or both of you!” The shakes seized Orin’s hands. When Haley reached for him he said, “Don’t.” She froze. “Just, let me…” He took a breath. “I’m okay.” But he wasn’t, he was scared. Pissed and scared. Orin crossed his arms and looked out the window. It was better than looking at Haley. He couldn’t stand the hurt in her face. Or Deshi, that was just a given on so many levels.

The room fell quiet except for reluctant sounds of eating. Eventually Orin’s hands quit shaking enough that he could feed himself without throwing everything onto the floor.

They ate and when most of the food had been decimated into scraps, the Jersey City Prince began to clean up. When Orin picked up his plate, the other Male took it from him and headed into the kitchen.

“What? You afraid I’m going to break it?” Deshi did not look up. Anger fired up in Orin’s chest and before he could stop himself he’d closed the distance between them. His hands locked on the Prince’s Italian jacket. He spun him away from the sink full of dishes and shoved his back into the cabinets. “I am not a goddamned Submissive. You will acknowledge me when I say something to you!”

Deshi’s eyes gleamed but he didn’t fight back, even when Orin jerked him up and slammed his back against the kitchen appliances. Distantly Orin heard Haley tell him to put Deshi down, but he couldn’t. He just kept screwing his hands up in all the fabric of Deshi’s jacket and smacking the Jersey City Prince’s shoulders against the wooden doors.

Haley came closer. “Back off, Orin.”

“I’m sick of him treating me like I’m not worth the same air he breathes.” Orin twisted the fancy Italian cloth in his fists until it burned his skin.

“Orin!” He glanced at Haley and the heat in her eyes took a little oomph out of his anger. Orin lowered the Prince until his expensive loafers touched the floor. He was prepared to let the Jersey City Prince go and step away, but then he had to open his mouth.

Deshi said just one word. “Arrogant.”

Orin’s sight slid away and his teeth punched down. He drew back his hand with every intention of landing a good one right in the Prince’s perfect little kisser. But instead he stood there with his fist curled, a deep growl rolling out of his chest. Deshi’s eyes were on his fist, his body totally calm, his face blank.

Orin gave him a hard shove and stepped back. “Yeah, you’d like me to hit you. Considering that’s the kind of thing that gets you off.” He forced his teeth back and blinked to clear his sight.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Haley got in between them and shoved them farther apart. Well, shoved Orin farther apart. Deshi was as far as he could go with his back to the counter.

Great, thought Orin. Just great. He rubbed his mouth because his teeth were hurting, and moved even farther away. Haley tugged on Deshi’s clothes, trying to straighten out the damage he’d done to the fabric.

The Prince didn’t seem to notice. He pegged Orin with his baby blues. “Face it, Orin. All the Rage control in the world isn’t going help you if you can’t get control of your fear.”

Orin blinked and tried to ignore the ice forming in his veins. Haley’s eyes were dark and full of worry. Christ. He turned away and didn’t stop until he was in his room and the door was closed.

Waking up in a strange place wasn’t anything new for Farley. But waking up cold, naked, and dripping wet was. Not so much the naked part, but the rest was something Farley purposely avoided.

He shivered and his teeth did some intermittent jack-hammering. It wasn’t easy for Farley to get his bearings, but then it never was when hanging upside down.

Dark green concrete walls, piss poor lighting. The room reminded him of the tank, only a bigger scarier version. Even with his body feeling jacked up on Novocain, Farley knew he wasn’t alone.

Lesser-Bred. And the fucker was starving.

“The numbness will go away. So will the headache.” A figure in the shadow moved forward. Darkness peeled back and a mismatched gaze hit Farley. One black eye—the color of magic, one gold—a hue and brightness that could only be born of the metaphysical. It had to be a trick of the light or some sort of sick practical joke. Farley kept blinking, hoping there was a punch line.

But then the man grinned, showing wicked white fangs, and the scent of magic flared. Metaphysics and Alchemy. That just didn’t happen.

Holy Shit
! What he was looking at couldn’t be real.

“I’m not what you expected, am I?”

Fuck. No.
Farley jerked against the bindings.

Roger Heikman was an Alchemist and Lesser-bred? It defied the laws of nature. Hell, the fucking universe. Like waking up and finding out the world was indeed flat and the sun went around the earth.

Total Twilight Zone.

Heikman said, “I don’t usually greet my guests like this, but since you’re with the Bureau I wanted our first meeting to be very memorable.”

So Paul Husley had squealed. Somehow it didn’t surprise Farley. “Fucking douche bag. Where is that asshole?”

“I fed him to Lor.”

That made Farley stop. For all of five seconds.

Heikman smiled. “You have to give Paul credit. He did try and warn you about me. Unfortunately for him he didn’t know I had his Hummer, his phone, and his house bugged for sound. When I got word he was going to flip on his associates, I had to protect my interests.”