Page 38 of Concluded (The Bureau #13)

I t wasn’t unusual for Bureau agents to put their lives at risk in the line of duty.

It was part of what they signed up for, and it was heavily emphasized during training.

Achilles had never particularly minded that aspect of his job; he felt that the results were worth the effort—a sentiment that Orson had never understood.

But over the years, after Achilles had witnessed dozens of deaths and had very nearly experienced it himself more than once, he’d reached a point where he felt as if the sacrifice was futile.

It didn’t feel futile now.

But Dee wasn’t a Bureau agent. He hadn’t voluntarily chosen a life involving considerable personal threat, and he’d turned away when that life had been offered to him. But now he’d received it anyway, simply because of the characteristics he was born with, which also hadn’t been his choice.

Dee was opting to join the battle. A part of Achilles grieved for him, and grieved, too, for the peace they’d likely never have together. Yet Achilles was also nearly overcome with pride that Dee was willing to take this great and hazardous step. His Dee.

“I love you,” Achilles said. The nearby raven laughed, perhaps because Achilles sounded so puzzled about his own statement. He felt puzzled. But he was also positive that what he’d just said was true.

“You’re a closet romantic, aren’t you?” Smiling, Dee bent to kiss Achilles’ hand. “I love you too. And I gotta tell you, man, I never thought I’d say those four words. The world is so much weirder than I suspected just a few weeks ago. And I’m happy to say it’s weird in a lot of good ways.”

Achilles glanced around, caught the raven’s gaze, and imagined he saw encouragement there. “How recovered are you?” he asked Dee, waggling his eyebrows.

Dee’s pupils dilated then and there, which was about the sexiest thing Achilles had ever seen. “More than enough.”

Laughing, they chased each other a short way down a narrow trail, stopping beneath a particularly thick grove of trees.

It was cold out. The ground was bumpy, slightly muddy, and likely full of slugs, spiders, and freshly sprouted poison oak.

Their very kind hosts were back at the cabin with an angel in their bed, possibly wishing that Dee’s transporter beam had landed somewhere else.

But dammit, Achilles felt as if he had finally found his person, and Dee apparently felt the same, and even if the entire thing was magically engineered, neither of them cared. They had each other and they had the present.

Achilles steered Dee to a broad-trunked tree and pushed him back against it.

A little bit hard, yes, but Dee seemed to enjoy a firm touch.

When Achilles pressed up against him, Dee embraced him tightly but then quickly moved his hands to Achilles’ head, tugging his hair as they made out.

Since Achilles also enjoyed a firm touch, this was delightful.

The raven, who was now definitely spying on them, called from overhead and was answered by a second.

“Bird peeping toms.” Dee laughed into the crook of Achilles’ neck. Dee’s smooth cheeks were very warm. They kissed some more. Possibly for hours, because nothing else seemed as good, as important… no, as vital , in all senses of the word.

Achilles managed to work his hands past Dee’s waistband, gripping the firm muscle and soft skin of his ass, feeling the tree’s nubbly bark digging into the backs of his hands.

Their cocks ground together, cushioned annoyingly by a few layers of fabric.

And of course there were slippery tongues, hard teeth, soft lips…

so many sensations that Achilles was drunk with them.

And then he wasn’t just drunk—he was ravenous.

He licked Dee’s neck, opened the jacket, and pulled down the neck of the T-shirt enough to mouth his collarbone.

And then, even better, he rucked up the tee so he could nibble Dee’s nipples.

Mostly tenderly, but sometimes not quite, so that still-pinioned Dee writhed and moaned and finally flat-out begged.

Those pretty words drove Achilles to his knees—potential mud and small forest creatures notwithstanding—to hastily unfasten Dee’s jeans and shove them and his underwear down over his hips.

And then wasn’t Dee a sight! Front bare to the elements from upper chest to thighs, skin flushed and chest heaving, arms spread wide against the tree as if he were offering himself up to a forest god.

Cock rampant. And eyes wide open, staring at Achilles as if he was the amazing one.

Not in the mood for teasing, Achilles dug his fingers into Dee’s hips and took his cock into his mouth. He tasted good, warm and salty, and he made desperate little gasps with every bob of Achilles’ head.

It would have been nice to continue like that forever, but Achilles was too greedy.

He slid off, nipped at the point of one hip, rose to his feet, and spun Dee around to face the tree.

Dee hugged the trunk like a lover and canted his ass outward.

The damned borrowed jacket, too big on him, was in the way, so Achilles maneuvered it off of him.

Feeling a little too guilty to just toss it aside, he draped it over a shrub before returning his attention to glorious bare skin.

He knelt again and, after a few moments of happily kneading and lightly slapping Dee’s ass, used his tongue.

When Dee’s noises became even more insistent and he was pushing back so strongly that they were both in danger of tumbling to the ground, Achilles decided Dee was ready enough.

He fumbled his own jeans open, hissing a little as the chill hit sensitive skin.

Seconds after that, however, he was in , surrounded by welcoming heat and urged on by Dee’s words, which were a garbled mix of pleas and commands.

Achilles grunted with every thrust. He felt strong. Feral, as if the trappings of civilization had fallen away from him entirely. He felt like a warrior, a demigod, a hero. And when Dee howled his climax to the ravens and the trees, Achilles felt like a lover too.

They both moved a bit stiffly on the short walk back to the cabin, but Achilles figured it had been worth the ache in his knees. Dee didn’t look regretful either.

When they entered, Jerry and Art stopped mid-conversation to stare at them. Then Jerry guffawed. “The joys of young love.”

“We’re not that young,” Dee pointed out.

“You’re practically babies. And you’re new. I was a virgin when me and Art met, but wow, those first few months?—”

“Jerry!” Art looked lovingly exasperated. “They don’t need to hear all the details.”

Unrepentant, Jerry winked at Dee. “Lemme just say, we made up for lost time.”

“Jerry!”

“Maybe,” Achilles said, “it’s a good time to talk business.”

Everyone’s expressions turned serious as Dee and Achilles took their seats. Achilles opened his mouth to speak, but Dee beat him to the punch. “I’m cool with being bait. I mean, otherwise I’m going to spend my life in hiding anyway, and if I can contribute to the cause, I’m all in.”

“I guess you already know the risks,” Art said.

“Yup.”

“And you realize…. This is going to entail more than luring someone somewhere, having your allies bash them on the head, and then you get to sail on home.”

Dee looked slightly offended. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. They’re not going to send the head honcho to fetch me.

Even assuming there is a single head honcho and not a…

cabal. I figure that I’m going to have to pretend that I’ve had second thoughts about leaving them, so I can infiltrate and gain info.

And then I’m going to have to escape so I can get the info out.

” He said it easily, as if he was describing a trip to Safeway.

But Art wasn’t finished. He cleared his throat. “Do you also realize you’re going to have to offer them something to demonstrate good faith?”

“Oh. Yeah, okay. I can grant a wish for them. I’m not sure what I’ll do if they wish for something really destructive, but I guess I can deal with that if it comes to it.”

“Um…” Art said, and Achilles remembered that Art had washed out as a regular agent because he was too soft-hearted.

Achilles decided to rescue him. “He means me, Dee. You’re going to have to give me to them.” He’d been hoping to avoid this discussion until the last minute, which was cowardly of him.

“No. No way.” Dee glowered, arms crossed. “I saw what she did to you, and that place where she stuck you when she wasn’t torturing you, and… just no.”

“Look, I’m not even all that valuable to them. You’re a huge treasure; I’m just a fun little toy. But you stole me from them, and they’re probably extra pissed over that, and there’s no way they’ll believe you unless you hand me back.”

“You’re not a goddamn soccer ball!”

“I pretty much am.” Achilles made sure to catch Dee’s eyes. “Anyway, if you think I’m letting my djinn waltz into their hands without me, you’ve got another think coming.”

“But they’ll?—”

“I know, Dee. I know. I’m willing to pay the price.” And then a thought occurred to him and he gave a small smile. “You’re the Trojan horse, Dee.”

Dee didn’t laugh. In fact, he continued to argue, but eventually he must have realized he couldn’t win.

After muttering darkly about suicide missions, he subsided into a scowling silence.

Achilles and Art worked out the rest of their little plan: In the morning, Jerry would hike with them to civilization, where Achilles would call Charles and fill him in.

No doubt Charles would be relieved to know that Ish had arrived safely.

After that, Dee and Achilles would travel to Dee’s apartment in Portland and wait for the bad guys to appear.

Along the way, they’d devise a credible means to make the enemy believe that Dee was handing over a captive Achilles.