Fortune's Favor (A Power Up! Story) (11 page)

* * * *

Nathan glared at him. “I can do this. Quit trying to protect me.”

“Sorry for caring whether you live or die.”

“She was my mother.”

“Yeah, well, Daddy Dearest is trying to kill you, in case you missed that.”

“Stop calling him that!”

“Face it. Malcolm is your father, and yeah, he’s a psycho. Doesn’t mean you are.”

The agony on Nathan’s face tore at him.

Avery hugged and kissed him. The pleasure he felt in the embrace only enhanced the love in his heart. “Quit torturing yourself. You and he are nothing alike.”

“Yes, we are.” Nathan stepped back and reached for the weapon on the table. “See this gun?” He put his hands over the pistol grip of Avery’s Beretta, and a psychic miasma settled over them…

* * * *

Avery watched the ceiling come back into focus and knew he’d struck the mother lode.
Holy fuck
. Malcolm Dixon was Nathan’s father? Yet Danielle had given her baby to her sister rather than have Malcolm raise him. And Malcolm either never knew, or he’d found out and blamed Nathan for his existence—hence the abuse.

The dynamics in Nathan’s family gave him a headache. He didn’t know what to do. Should he tell Nathan what he’d seen? Or should he investigate? Too bad he could only see the future.

He blinked as an answer came to him. Noah. His buddy Noah First was a retrocog. He could see the past. Maybe with the right tools, Noah could see into Nathan’s past. They hadn’t tried before because none of them had figured Nathan’s history to be of more importance in this case than that he and the new owner of the blade were related. But they hadn’t counted on Malcolm being a crazy psychic with a family vendetta.

Avery made a few calls and settled back down, content he’d done what he could. He reviewed his vision, trying to see what else he might have missed, when something dawned on him. He’d hugged Nathan, feeling
love.

He stared unseeingly at the blank television, bemused that the emotions he’d been feeling for Nathan were definitely moving in the direction he’d feared. Fuck it all, he was falling in love with Nathan Kraft, troublemaker, playboy, and all-around rule breaker. Avery’s opposite in so many ways.

What the hell should he do about that? More to the point, what
could
he do? The future was the future. So why should he bother running away from the hurt he could all but feel coming after him?

Chapter Seven

Malcolm sensed himself getting closer to his destiny. The blade allowed him to be what he was meant to be, a human weapon. The incredible agony of so many deaths pushed and prodded his psyche to accept and use the knowledge. So many times in the past, he’d kept a wall up between his abilities and violent death, that negative energy swirling beneath the passing of souls. But when he’d allowed it to enfold him, he’d finally experienced a sense of freedom.

In the harsh ability that made him faster and stronger than his opponents, he’d found solace when his wife had abandoned him. And again, years later, when his wife’s deceit came full circle. The little bastard responsible for so much of his pain remained alive, while Malcolm’s heart had been ravaged by lies and bitterness and distractions. Not feeling anything had been both a blessing and a curse.

But after finding Danielle still alive, he’d learned he could no longer afford to feel numb. Now he forced himself to reach for the familiar rage that pulsed whenever he considered that Nathan still lived.

Malcolm kept his hand on the blade, which rested on the seat next to him. He passed several cars moving way too slow along I-97 and crept into the town in the heart of the mountains. Bend, Oregon had a sedate charm, if one could overlook so many people clustered into a tiny space. He preferred the vast jungle around his home in Mexico. Even one neighbor there was too much. But here?

The snow provided no buffer. The idiots outside swarmed like locusts, laughing and playing in the cold white stuff everywhere. Not surprisingly, the sight of so much snow reminded him of Bloomville, the one place in his life he’d been content…until Nathan had arrived.

The parasite hadn’t died back then. That he’d managed to get under Malcolm’s shields should have warned him not to treat Nathan as an insignificant threat, but in his anger, he’d been stupid. And he’d paid the price.

He absently rubbed his chest, over the scar that remained.

This time Malcolm had the advantage. He had Sangre. He’d have to plan this carefully, though. He didn’t want to kill Nathan outright. No, he needed the little shit to suffer, the way Malcolm had suffered. He would take what Nathan loved most and destroy it piece by piece, until nothing remained of it but Nathan’s tattered longing.

Then he’d kill Nathan without remorse. He’d enjoy every bit of it, and he wouldn’t stop there. He’d never stop, not with Sangre in his hands.

* * * *

Nathan didn’t want to wake Avery, but they needed to eat.

“Yo, princess,” he mocked as he poked Avery in his solid chest. Hell, the guy was built like a brick, and that strength turned Nathan on like nothing could. Though he’d spent time with men of all kinds of builds, he found he liked Avery’s best. Not worrying about breaking his lover was downright seductive. “Avery? Wake up.”

Avery groaned and smacked Nathan’s hand away. He blinked and slowly sat up, his blue eyes so beautiful Nathan wanted to sigh. But he’d be damned if he’d give Avery the notion he held sway over their relationship. Even though he did, Nathan would never admit it to the control freak.

“Where have you been?” Avery asked. He stretched, and his sweater pulled up to reveal that sexy stomach Nathan wanted to kiss all over.

Nathan cleared his throat. “Looking for a decent Chinese place. Enjoy your noodles and beer.”

“We just had Chinese,” Avery muttered. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned looking refreshed if still grumpy.

Nathan gestured to the food and plates he’d spread on the table. “You’re welcome.”

Avery grunted and dug into his food like a starving man. He finished a beer as if it were water and gestured for another.

Nathan handed him one and grabbed a drink for himself. Though hungry, he ate with less gusto than Avery. Good Lord, the man could put away food. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“God save us.”

“We haven’t been hitting the gym too hard. But we’re doing okay. What do you make of that?”

Avery stopped eating. “I’ve been running every morning. But yeah, our workouts haven’t been too intense, yet we’re not going nutso.” He paused, nodded, and resumed eating. “Must be the sex.”

Nathan blinked. “You think?” Normally they worked out, pushing themselves past physical exhaustion. In addition, they’d use their psychic skills, exercising their minds to keep the crazies away. Being deprived of the drugs that tamped their abilities into a manageable state had been the main drawback of leaving the PWP. But Nathan had decided he’d rather be a free man with a few issues than a government lackey dependent on drugs the rest of his life.

“Sure.” Avery scooped more food onto his plate. “Think about it. You and I are fairly well matched when we work out. So we put a lot into it. The sex activates different hormones, but the endorphins at the end are still present.” Avery grinned. “Especially when I’m buried deep in your ass.”

Nathan tried to ignore the flush staining his cheeks. He didn’t know why, but only Avery had the ability to discomfit him. “So that must be why you have a perpetual hard-on for me. Because I’m your buffer to losing your mind?” Christ, he felt like a woman needing reassurance. But he couldn’t help it. He normally made the moves when it came to his relationships. Avery turned everything upside down. For once, he’d found a man who didn’t cater to his whims, who didn’t do everything he said when he said it.

Before his partner could wound his ego, he turned it into a joke. “By all means, buffer away.” He licked his lips, and Avery watched without blinking. “You like my ass, but I was thinking my blowjobs are my best-kept secret.”

“Not sure how secret they are, considering you’ve blown half of Bend, but I can’t complain.”

“Now hold on. I’m more a handjob man, myself.”

“Please. You’re hot, you know it, and you like to play around. I’m not judging. Just calling it like I see it.”

Nathan felt insulted but didn’t know why. Avery hadn’t said anything but the truth, yet it made Nathan sound shallow. “I can commit.”

“Not saying you can’t.”

“You don’t think I can.” The bastard had no right to assume anything about him.

“You’re taking this way too personally.”

“You’re damn right.”

“My point is, you’re an attractive man who likes to date a lot. Am I wrong?”

“No. But I’m not a slut.”

At Avery’s look, he scowled. “I’m not! I’m choosy about my partners is all. When I find Mr. Right, I’ll settle down.”

Avery snorted.

“You’ll see.”

“Sure thing.”

“What about you?”

Avery paused over a pot sticker. “What about me?”

“Your last girlfriend was three months ago. And before that, who did you date?”

“A guy in Redmond. We were seeing each other for a while; then he moved away.”

Nathan goggled. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m not a monk. Contrary to popular belief, I like to fuck. A lot.”

“I can see that.” Nathan stared. “So in the last year, you’ve had, what, two sexual partners?”

“Three. Count yourself in there.”

“That’s it?” Nathan didn’t understand it. “That’s all?”

Avery sighed. “That’s enough. When I’m with someone, it’s someone I like enough to want more than sex. We date. We spend time together, doing things that don’t involve my cock all the time. I realize that’s a novel idea for you, but that’s me.”

Nathan didn’t like the fact Avery had pegged him. So what that Nathan liked variety? He’d never found anyone worth hanging around for more than a few weeks. They’d grow clingy, or he’d find something about them he couldn’t stand. His relationships hadn’t lasted as long as Avery’s, but
both
of them were still single. They had that in common. “I might date a lot, but that doesn’t mean I’m not looking.”

“Really?” Avery pushed his plate away and sat back. He locked his hands behind his head and studied Nathan. “Because from what I’ve seen, it looks to me like you’re lonely.”

“How do you figure that, Einstein?”

“You go through men like water. It’s like you don’t want to be happy. Like maybe you’re afraid to find the perfect guy.”

“That’s such shit.” So why did it have a ring of truth to it?

“But knowing how your aunt and uncle were, it makes sense. Maybe to you, relationships are killer. Literally.”

“Look, Dr. Holton, you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“If I don’t know you, it’s because you won’t let me,” Avery said softly. He leaned forward, an earnest expression on his face that frankly scared the crap out of Nathan. He looked like he had something important to say.

“You’re not making sense. I think you need more rest.” Nathan stood and cleared the table.

“I fucked you, Nathan. It was incredible. But it’s just physical. Don’t get a big head or anything, but I actually like you better when you just talk to me. Not joking or laying on the charm, but sharing something of yourself.” Avery took a large swig of beer.

“Like what? There’s not that much to know.” Nathan decided to drink as well. Maybe if he imbibed enough, he could forget the conversation. He opened a fresh bottle and downed half of it.

“Sure there is. What do you like to do in your off time besides flirt?”

“Dickhead.” More beer.

“Do you ski? Do you run, bike? Seems like everyone in Bend bicycles, but I’ve never seen you on two wheels. Do you like working at PowerUp! with the gym stuff? How do you like living on the west side of town?”

Avery knew where he lived. He shouldn’t be flattered, but he was. “Do you?”

Avery smiled, and Nathan’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, I do. I ski, run, and can’t stand bikes unless they have a motor attached. I actually like being a trainer at the gym. I hate chocolate but love vanilla. See? There’s more to me than my cock.”

“Or your rock-hard head, which has head-butted mine too many times.” Nathan didn’t want to admit it, but talking with more than a sexual agenda built into the conversation was kind of nice. “How the hell have you beaten me all those times on the mats? I’m just as big as you are.”

Avery shook his head. “Poor kid. You’re smaller than me.”

“By maybe an inch or two,” Nathan muttered.

“And you broadcast your moves. Your eyes tell. Don’t look left before you dodge left. Make your move, and don’t give your opponent time to guess.” Avery looked around them and swore. “Shit. We could really use a gym right about now. I’d love to show you a few moves.”

“I bet.”

Avery snorted. “Not like that. I swear. I’ve never met anyone into sex as much as you are.”

“I’m a guy. I think about it all the time. It’s genetic.”

Avery gave him a once-over that had him hard in an instant. “Yeah, I see that.” Then he frowned. “Genetic, you said?”

“It’s a joke.”

“Let me ask you something.”

The playful, sensual vibe between them faded. Nathan sighed. “Go ahead.”

“You touch an object and know things about it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about a weapon? When you touch it, do you get anything more from it than that?”

Nathan didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to lie, not after he and Avery had shared with each other, but he didn’t like that part of himself. If he pretended it didn’t exist, it didn’t. Not for him.

“What are you asking me, exactly?” he hedged.

Avery just stared at him, then shook his head. “Nothing that can’t keep. Now how about we change the subject?”

“Gladly.”

“We don’t have a gym nearby—and I’m not counting that crappy little workout room downstairs. I need to work off some energy.” Avery stepped closer, and the heat in his gaze set Nathan to flame. There could be no denying their chemistry. “Let’s indulge each other.”