Some Kind of Magic (8 page)

Penelope"s sarcasm was almost lost around a mouthful of eel

and cucumber.

“No, no, Ray Ray!” Cal bounced on the desk. “You"re

missing the point of what Benny is saying. If it was a spell,

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51

despite the obvious strength of the killer, it had to be a

human.”

“And spells are unique. Like recipes, everybody always

adds that pinch of something special.” Benedict also fancied

himself quite the cook. Ray stared at him.

“Yeah, like extreme rage,” he quipped, and Cal rolled his

eyes. “So what"s your point?” He didn"t even really wait

before he sighed and gave in.

“Get us a list of suspects, and we might be able to

determine who. From their size, and also their personal

tastes and—”

“A list of suspects.” Penn"s voice was flat. She and Ray

looked at each other. Sometimes these two tended to forget

that he and Penn did work when they weren"t around. Ray

bent down to reach into the boxes filled with files at his feet

and dropped a stack on his desk in front of them.

“Help yourselves. He was not a popular guy.”

“I heard.” Cal sucked his lollipop like he was going to get

oil from it. Ray did
not
look at his mouth. “Didn"t you

threaten to break his neck a few months ago?”

“I—Yes.” Ray shrugged. The moon had been full twice

that month. Blue moons made him
tense
. And when Ray had

been on the stand, the guy had implied he was incompetent.

Ray flashed his teeth at the memory. “Yeah.” It had felt good

too.

Benedict and Parker both blinked.

“What? I didn"t say it when I was on the stand. I said it

later, outside the courtroom.”

“You should get therapy,” Cal finally remarked.

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52

“You should get a shirt,” Ray tossed back at him. “And

stop prying into my other cases.”

“Boys.” Penelope burped. “Let"s just split the stacks and

get started, okay?” She wasn"t really asking. And thankfully,

at last, Cal hopped from Ray"s desk to get an actual chair.

He pulled it over next to Ray"s desk, but he wasn"t
on
Ray"s

desk, and Ray could pull in the occasional breath that

wasn"t full of sugary need.

“The M.E. confirmed the size of our perp, by the way.

Broke the neck in one clean jerk, then twisted it all the way

around. With some broken ribs that would have lead to some

serious internal bleeding if he hadn"t been dead already.

And….” She paused as they all glanced at Ray again.

He
was
probably strong enough to do it even without

shifting. “It wasn"t me,” he insisted anyway, annoyed and

just a little hurt because they"d all known him for years,

enough to discount those horror stories from black and

white movies.

For a second he was ten again, trying to explain to kids

in the schoolyard that even if he did bite them they weren"t

going to turn Were and that being Were wasn"t a bad thing

anyway.

“Of course not.” They all murmured in unison. Then,

damn it, Cal left this chair and came back to perch on his

desk in a show of solidarity that Ray—and his dick—did not

need.

“I"m not a murderer,” he grunted anyway, but quietly.

Cal was looking down at the files in his hand, scanning

quickly over the details. It was, as always, startling to see

Cal focus. Amazing, really. He was barely even twitching,

though those wings were creating a breeze.

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53

“Weird, isn"t it?” Cal remarked suddenly, under his

breath and so low it had to be just for Ray"s ears. Ray looked

up. Cal didn"t look directly at him. “When someone assumes

things about you like that based on no evidence

whatsoever?”

Ray stopped, and only then did Cal glance sideways at

him, almost serious, eyes intent like he was waiting for Ray

to answer. Ray closed his mouth, regretting it as the

heavenly scent blanketed him. But when he didn"t speak Cal

tossed out a dizzying smile and dropped his attention back

to the files.

“What about Nasreen?” Penn called over to him. Ray

kept his eyes on Cal, who didn"t seem to hear, but of course

he had.

Ray briefly thought back to a time before when he would

have never suspected such things from any fairy.

“There was no answer when I tried to call her,” he told

Penn, his eyes on the line of Cal"s jaw, the slight point to his

ears. “I"ll have to go see her, make sure she"s ready for

whatever happens. If she"s really okay.”

Cal"s momentarily cherry-red lips curved, just a bit. He

smelled indecently pleased and a touch jealous, all at the

same time.

“I can go. You worry too much.” Penn was being

generous. Ray absently touched his nose and looked at her.

He felt Cal"s gaze on him, on the gesture, reading it and

knowing what it meant.

Cal already knew enough about him, so he tried not to

react, but he still flushed. Ray could smell himself too, after

all, not just Cal. And
welcome
and
warm
didn"t begin to

describe the possessive, hungry scents emanating from him.

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54

He was vaguely surprised Cal wasn"t humming. Ray had

seen that look in his eyes before.

Somewhere, some part of him was panicking at the

memory. The rest of him was just warm. He couldn"t ever be

that naked in front of Cal again.

“No, I will,” he told Penn distantly, after swallowing.

“When we have a moment.”

“Softie,” Cal whispered, and Ray hurriedly looked back

down at his work to stave off the memory yet again. He

stared at his lunch, which had lost some of its appeal. He

snuck a few glances up as the minutes ticked by, oddly

fascinated by the sight of Cal Parker motionless and

concentrating.

Cal was good at this job, despite his initial reluctance to

do this work. He hadn"t wanted to do what would make his

father happy, until he"d realized just how good at it he really

was, and that it made him happy too. It turned out, when

something made a fairy happy, they didn"t like to give it up.

At the very least, it was a possible explanation for all

those old stories about fairies kidnapping innocents, even if

there was no fairy realm where time stood still. It probably

just felt that way, getting swept up and letting yourself be

seduced into forgetting that a fairy"s attention didn"t last

forever.

“Detective!” Ray was so distracted, Ross"s voice made

him jump. The officer was smiling at him and waving some

paperwork. He stepped wide around Cal to reach Ray"s desk

and hand him the papers. “I got those results from the print

lab for you.”

Uniforms were often nosy and sometimes hung around

in the hopes of sucking up or learning something. Ross

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55

always smelled like strong ambition, but he was one of the

officers who had never had anything to say against

werewolves, even if he"d had plenty to say about fairies, so

Ray gave him a vague smile and started to flip through the

first report. No prints found but the lawyer"s, his secretary"s,

and his last client of the day, who had already been

accounted for.

“Why, thank you so much, Officer Ross.” Cal was overly

sweet, probably flirting with Ross too. Ross
was
good

looking, in a clean-cut way. Short hair, square shoulders.

Cal"s wings were moving like mad now and didn"t slow until

Ray pointedly thanked Ross again, and the man reluctantly

moved back out into the bullpen.

Ray knew Cal was studying him, likely irritated, but

with someone as driven as Ross around the wolf was

screaming for him to mark Cal as his, to bite his sweet skin

and drag him away, piss at his feet, do whatever it took for

the rest of world to understand and back off. He didn"t dare

respond. He already felt the ache under his skin, the itch,

like he ought to shift.

Too smart to look up this time, Ray just moved his

pencil holder to hold his papers down in the mini-Cal

windstorm and finished eating in the hopes it would make

him feel a little less starving. Then, when he felt a fraction

calmer, he opened a file too.

BY END of the day they had a short list of suspects. All with

above average build. All with anger issues and who were at

ease around Beings or magic. Not that the last requirement

meant that someone who didn"t know magic couldn"t have

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56

learned it. After all, plenty of convicts learned the law in

prison too. Nor did it explain what spell they"d worked in

that room or why. Maybe just one to avoid detection. Though

that could have been worked anywhere and not only at the

scene.

Whatever it was, after a day working a case in Cal

Parker"s presence, Ray was too tired to think about it for

now. Penn had left too, about two hours after Benedict had

announced he had to go home since he had a lot of work to

do in the morning, and taken Cal with him. Not quite kicking

and screaming, but close.

Not for the first time, Ray wondered how the man did it.

It was like Benedict was immune to Fairy allure and to Cal"s

in particular. Or not, because Cal frequently embarrassed

him, but he kept coming back. In fact, their friendship

seemed to have remained solid and unshakeable for nearly

their whole lives in a way that Ray envied.

When Ray had just made detective, Calvin Parker had

once made it a point to invite him out with the other

detectives when they"d gone to a bar after work. It had been

an honor and a public statement of support for the new

Being detective, and until then, Ray hadn"t realized the guts

it must have taken the man to get involved with a fairy at all,

even if it hadn"t lasted. It had been, if not a scandal, then a

dent in the man"s sterling reputation.

Calvin Parker had never gotten a promotion after that,

but Ray had never seen even a hint of regret in him. Not

much else either, to be honest. Calvin Parker was a hard

man to know. But brilliant and respected, and Ray had been

pleased to have been singled out for his attention. And after

several glasses of black label, Detective Parker had taken out

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57

his wallet and showed him a picture of his son and Benedict

as children, a Halloween picture of all things, with both of

them dressed as cowboys.

They"d had the same easy, friendly body language then

that they did to this day. Best friends and soul mates in a

different way than Ray was used to thinking of the term.

“They stand together,” was how Calvin Parker had put

it. “But not enough,” he"d added, his voice cracking for a

moment before the single malt had smoothed it out. “It takes

a lot to keep a fairy grounded.”

At the time Ray had been more than buzzed and very

confused. Now he just assumed it was the forethought of a

smart man, who knew his son better than his son would

admit. Ray hadn"t even met Cal yet, and he"d already been

warned away.

He sighed. If Calvin had really felt that way, he should

never have introduced them. But then, like Ray, he"d been

more vested in justice being served than in worrying about

any broken hearts.

Three days into knowing his son, Ray had realized the

obvious, right there in his living room, and he"d been trying

to save himself ever since.

It didn"t help to be alone in his house now with the

scent of Cal all over him.

Ray"s “love cave” as Cal had repeatedly called it, was

just a house. A lair only in the sense that it was his, and

safe, but a regular house otherwise. Living room, kitchen,

bedroom, bathroom, and spacious closets because he was on

the large side. Fridge full of beer and steak which, though

pricey, was really the only thing that eased the cravings

between hunts.

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58

He thought about avoiding his living room, but with Cal