Page 22 of Concluded (The Bureau #13)

N either Grimes nor Tenrael returned that evening, although aliens came by a couple of times to make sure everything was okay.

That made Achilles want to know what they called themselves— aliens felt slightly rude and derogatory—but he couldn’t really ask since he didn’t speak their language.

Anyway, the bed was great, there was plenty of food, and Dee didn’t seem to mind waiting on him hand and foot.

Due to the combination of meals, plenty of sleep, and the first aid kit, Achilles felt fairly decent come nightfall, and he joined Dee on a small couch in front of the TV.

“There were big protests everywhere today,” said Dee as he flicked through channels. “I saw it on the news.”

“That’s heartening.”

“The president and his people, are they allied with Ashley’s group, do you think?”

Achilles shrugged. “Dunno. It’s possible that they’ve signed on to the same program as her.

It’s also possible that they have no clue about her gang, and their BS is just helping to feed the fire.

Or maybe there are a couple of key advisors who are in on it and the president is clueless, a handy means to their end. Same results in any case.”

“There are a couple of his buddies that I’d be willing to bet are like Ashley.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Achilles. He’d never paid much attention to politics, preferring to keep his attention on things that he could influence in some way. He understood NHSs better than he did those people in DC.

Dee was quiet for a while, although Achilles had the sense that his mind wasn’t truly on The Drew Barrymore Show , which was what he’d paused on.

Luke Wilson was the guest. After a while, Dee rubbed the back of his neck.

“That extraterrestrial who greeted us, did she— Um, are they a she? And if so, is she pregnant? The way that they sort of cradled their belly a few times made me think so.”

Achilles remembered what he’d been taught.

“Like humans, they have multiple genders and multiple sexes. Individuals shift genders and sexes at various points in their life, although I have no idea what the rules are for that. If there are any. And I don’t speak the language, so I don’t know the proper terminology.

I think it’s more complicated for them to get pregnant than it is for us.

Takes more than two to tango. But there is one sex that carries the fetuses and breast-feeds them when they’re born, and the Bureau tends to use she/her pronouns for them.

And yeah, I think she is.” The idea made him smile; it was a sign that the survival efforts were succeeding.

But Dee was frowning. “If Ashley’s group wins, our hosts here, they’ll be wiped out too, right? Not just humans?”

“A lot of species will be—human, NHS, and otherwise.”

“That sucks.”

Achilles was inclined to agree with that as well.

Which turned his thoughts in a pretty depressing direction. He was casting about for something cheerier to talk about when he noticed that Dee was staring at him rather intently.

“What?” Achilles demanded.

Dee’s cheeks colored but he didn’t look away. “You’re really good-looking.”

“You mentioned that before.” Achilles tried hard not to blush in response. “Is that a problem?”

“No. And you’re gay.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No.”

This was a weird conversation, but it beat thinking about the end of the world. “Then why are you bringing these things up?”

“Because….” Chewing his lip, Dee looked down at the remote in his hand.

He kept his gaze trained downward as he continued.

“I’m not…. I can appreciate a pretty face of any gender.

But I hardly ever want to get physical with anyone.

I mean, I’ve had sex before. Maybe a dozen times?

Mostly because it seemed like something I should want to do, but the reality was pretty meh. ”

Achilles used to enjoy sex a lot, although in recent years it hadn’t often felt as if it were worth the hassle. So he could sort of understand. But he didn’t get why Dee had raised the issue. “To each his own,” Achilles said.

“Sure. Except that now I, uh….” Dee swallowed audibly. “I keep thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.” He faced Achilles again, scowling. “Have you put a spell on me or something?”

Bursting out laughing hurt, and it probably wasn’t the best response, but Achilles couldn’t stop himself. “Are you serious ?”

“You can’t believe I’m thinking about kissing you?”

“No, that’s plausible, if a little unlikely under the circumstances. I meant the spell part. You’re the magic guy. I’m the most ordinary human on the planet. I can’t even do card tricks.”

Dee made an exasperated noise. “Then how come I want to kiss you?”

He was so serious about this that Achilles tried to be too, even though this was a truly dumb thing to be worrying about when everything else was falling apart.

“Maybe it’s due to the Florence Nightingale effect?

The fact of almost dying tends to get the juices flowing.

Or maybe it’s simply because I’m really hot.

” Achilles waved away Dee’s protest at the last part.

“Look. If you want to try a kiss and see if it gets your motor running, go for it. Just watch out for my bruises and things.”

In fact, the experiment sounded like a good idea to Achilles.

Well, not a good idea precisely, because even a hint of a fling was probably unwise with someone who’d almost helped end the world and who’d also just found out he was a genie.

But common sense be damned. Dee was good-looking, and sleeping in his arms had felt nice—and weirdly safe.

Also, nobody had kissed Achilles in a long time, and for all he knew, he might die before sunup.

“Carpe diem,” Achilles said by way of explanation.

“Right.” Dee took a deep breath and dove in for what Achilles expected to be a harsh and messy kiss.

But it wasn’t. Dee was gentle about it, at first barely brushing their lips together.

And even though their bodies were angled awkwardly and aches still echoed in Achilles’ body, the contact felt good.

There was something absurdly sweet and innocent about it, as if they were a pair of teenagers trying this for the first time, not a middle-aged ex-agent and a genie.

Dee pulled back slightly, eyes wide with surprise. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I liked that.”

Achilles smiled. “Me too.”

“I want to try it again.”

“By all means.” Achilles spread his arms to demonstrate acceptance.

The second kiss was firmer and more lingering but still tender.

Lips closed, no tongue. And this time Dee tentatively reached up to thread his fingers through Achilles’ hair.

That particular kind of contact had always been Achilles’ little kink, sending him from first gear straight to third, as if his scalp was an erogenous zone.

“How do you manage,” Dee asked, kiss ended but face still close, “to have such soft hair after days of ill treatment in the desert?”

“Maybe it’s my superpower. You grant wishes, I have good hair. Notice too that’s it’s not thinning or going gray, and my hairline’s not receding.”

It was one of the first times Achilles had heard Dee laugh, and it was nice to know that he was responsible for that.

Just then an epiphany hit Achilles. “Dumb jokes are a form of hope. So are soft kisses and fresh shaves and bowls of pasta. I think they all count, they all help. In a small way, sure, but if you accumulate enough grains of sand you can build a giant dune.”

“Or create a whole desert.” Dee waved toward a window, although it was too dark outside for the landscape to be visible.

“Deserts are surprisingly diverse in terms of flora and fauna. A fair number of NHSs make their homes in deserts too.”

“Yeah.” Dee moved back a little but didn’t break eye contact. “Is sex hope too?”

“It can be, sure. There’s a reason people get horny after facing and surviving death. Was that a proposition?”

“Maybe? Would you even consider having sex with someone who’s not, um, human?”

This time Achilles managed to suppress the laugh. “Not a problem. I’ve been with a few friendly NHSs over the years. There was this vampire once, for instance?—”

“Male?”

Taken aback, Achilles blinked. “Uh, yeah. I may not be picky about species but I’m at least a Kinsey five.”

“How do vampires get hard-ons if they’re undead and their blood isn’t circulating?”

“I have no idea. If we survive all of this, and once things calm down, you can ask our archivist, Diana Afolabi. She probably has a file on the subject somewhere.”

Dee seemed to mull this over for a moment before giving his head a small shake, perhaps to clear his thoughts. “Okay. So fucking a genie?”

“Never tried it before. Would be amenable.” But when Achilles shifted slightly, the resulting twinge was enough to reconnect him with reality. “But not tonight. I’m not physically up to it. Besides, I’m not sure how our hosts feel about that sort of thing and I don’t want to be rude.”

Dee looked disappointed, and Achilles didn’t want him to think he was just making up excuses. So he patted Dee’s knee, even though it hurt Achilles’ chewed-up wrist. “If we come through this and you still want me, I’m yours. It’ll give us an extra incentive to win.”

“Hope for sex is hope?”

“Definitely.”

Later that night, as they lay in separate beds, Achilles regretted being an adult about this.

He heard Dee’s soft breaths and remembered what those little puffs of air had felt like on his nape.

Gods, Dee was warm , like a comfortable seat in front of a crackling fire, like a bellyful of hot soup. Like a fever.

Achilles sighed, rolled over to face the wall, and tried to sleep.

* * *

“You look better this morning,” Grimes pronounced, sweeping into the room as Achilles and Dee ate breakfast. Dee had grumbled about a lack of sausage, eggs, and cheese, but had made a tall stack of pancakes instead, along with sliced strawberries and scrambled tofu with salsa.

Achilles was definitely making up for those missed meals.

But now the chief and Tenrael were hovering nearby, so Achilles pushed back his plate. “I feel better.”

“Good. I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home now, but you can stay here indefinitely, or we have some other safe houses if you’d prefer to be closer to civilization.”

“I’d prefer to be on assignment,” said Achilles, fully aware that he’d attempted to resign from the Bureau just a short time ago.

Grimes looked at him with something that might have been sympathy, and when he spoke, his voice was softer than usual. “I know. But you need more time to heal, and things are, well, a little chaotic at the moment.”

“Is this your polite way of telling me I’m fucking useless?” Achilles wouldn’t normally have been quite so blunt, but technically Grimes wasn’t his chief anymore. And whatever patience Achilles had once possessed was long gone.

“I’m not a polite man.”

They glared at each other for a moment, but Achilles was the first to back down, in part because he knew he wasn’t at his best. He wanted to be a help, not a liability.

Dee, who’d been watching this interchange with interest, spoke into the silence. “What about me? Do I go to the safe house too?” Judging from his expression, he knew what the answer was going to be. Achilles knew too. Dee was potentially too valuable to sit on a shelf.

“You’re coming to San Francisco with us,” Grimes announced.

“Why?”

“We need to ascertain exactly what you’re capable of.”

Dee set his jaw. “I’m not going to do any testing. No floods, no houses in the desert, no snakes.”

“No,” said Grimes, shaking his head. “None of that. Our archivist is conducting more research on genies and hopes to be done soon. We’ll go from there.”

That answer seemed to mollify Dee a bit, and although he still looked unhappy, his posture relaxed.

But Achilles, who was clearly not a part of this particular discussion, decided he wasn’t in the mood to keep his mouth shut.

“What is it you want him to do? Because I’m guessing he can’t just give you world peace or something like that. ”

Grimes didn’t look as though he intended to answer, which would be just like him. Tenrael, however, had been standing slightly behind him, wings furled. Now he took a step forward and set a hand on Grimes’s shoulder. “You should tell them.”

Everyone was silent during what surely qualified as a pregnant pause.

Tenrael didn’t remove his hand. They were quite a sight: the thin, pale man in the suit; the darker more muscular demon wearing nothing at all.

Both of them quietly fierce and, in Achilles’ estimation, as solid as the ground beneath his feet. Maybe more so.

Finally, Grimes gave a jerky little nod.

“Last year, Agents Clark and Gale encountered a… being who we believe was allied with Ashley Dunn and her compatriots. During this encounter they learned that our enemies are capable of creating portals between places. Also during this encounter, Gale sensed an entity trapped and held captive between these portals. We believe you were also trapped in such a space, Spanos. Perhaps the same one, but more likely another space of the same nature.”

Achilles shuddered. He didn’t want to think about that place. Being there had been worse than the physical torture.

“For the past months, Clark and Gale have been trying to find this captive or gain access to them so they can be freed.”

“Oh!” said Achilles, remembering. “Ralph Crespo was helping them.”

“Yes, but they haven’t been successful. What I’d like is for you, Mr. Martell, to get me there.”

“And back,” Tenrael added gently.

Light dawned in Achilles’ beleaguered brain. “You want to wish yourself into Dunn’s black hole so you can do a rescue mission.”

“Yes.”

Dee spoke up. “Why? I mean, I get it—this person is stuck somewhere awful. But you guys keep saying how busy you are, and I’ve seen for myself that there’s a Big Nasty waiting to take a chomp out of everyone.

And you seem like a pretty important guy.

Why use limited resources and risk your life over one person? ”

That was an excellent question, and Achilles gave Dee an approving look.

Grimes’s scowl deepened. “Because,” he said, “I suspect that captive is my father.”