Page 40 of Concluded (The Bureau #13)

D ee didn’t pay much attention to Achilles’ phone conversation with Charles, but he got the gist of it.

Charles was relieved that Ish was safe, slightly astounded that Dee had been able to teleport them successfully, and cautiously approving of their new plan.

He did try to give warnings about the likely outcomes, but Achilles overrode him, saying he’d already considered them.

Charles wished them luck and asked them to report in regularly.

“Do you want to go now?” Dee asked after Achilles hung up.

“No. It’s a long drive.” He gave a small smile. “And Jerry bought food for us. Let’s wait until morning.”

That was good news. Not just because Dee was tired, but because it meant a little more time spent with Achilles—and a little more delay before leaping into the lions’ den. “I’ll make us some dinner.”

“Really?”

“I’m capable of cooking.”

Achilles shook his head. “It’s just nice, that’s all.” He flopped down on the couch and poked at his phone for a moment before making a sour face and tossing it aside.

In the kitchen, Dee found the ingredients for a feast: a couple of enormous steaks, the fixings for a pair of loaded baked potatoes, a green salad, some seeded rolls, and two pints of fancy ice cream.

The quantities likely reflected the oversize appetites of two oversize guys rather than what Dee and, likely, Achilles were accustomed to, but he was definitely not going to complain.

In fact, he caught himself whistling while he prepped.

What would it be like to live a cozy domestic life with a partner?

He’d never pictured that for himself. Not because he didn’t want it, but because he assumed he would never have access to an existence like that.

Now, though, playing at it for an evening, he could almost picture it.

The irony, of course, was that now a tranquil little partnership was equally out of reach because he and Achilles likely wouldn’t survive much longer.

But… wow. They had been able to spend a few days together.

They’d had a lot of great sex. They’d proclaimed their love.

Dee had discovered a comfortable space with another person, like finding an oasis in the desert.

And along the way, he’d seen so many wonders and met beings he’d only read about in stories.

Hell, he’d learned that he himself was one of those beings.

Oh. And at least fairly recently, his mother had still been alive. He didn’t quite know how he felt about that. Best not to think about it right now.

They demolished their dinners as if they hadn’t eaten in days, then sat beside each other on the couch, lazily noshing melting ice cream straight out of the carton.

This house didn’t have a TV, and neither of them had any desire to pick up a phone.

They didn’t even talk all that much. For the most part, they simply were , which turned out to be surprisingly pleasant.

Dee didn’t know what was going on in Achilles’ mind, but his own was sort of blurry, one thought easily flowing into the next like chalk drawings in the rain.

They went to bed early. Not surprisingly, it was a big bed, taking up almost all of the bedroom. Maybe the mattress was firmer than ideal, but that hardly mattered. Not with Achilles spooned against Dee’s back, smelling like soap and steak, the bristles of his beard tickling Dee’s nape.

“You’ve introduced me to some pretty weird people lately,” Dee said.

“True.”

“But lots of these weird people… they’ve found someone to love. For a really long time, in some cases.”

“Also true.”

Dee thought for a moment. “And some of them… they’re good guys, but they have some significant, um, character challenges.”

When Achilles laughed, his breaths were warm against Dee’s skin. “You could put it that way.”

“It’s hopeful, though, isn’t it? That very imperfect people can still find True Love, capital letters and all.”

“It is.” Achilles snuggled impossibly closer.

They didn’t have sex that night, but they both slept soundly.

* * *

They left before dawn in the borrowed Jeep, which bounced around as if it had no shocks and gobbled gas at an alarming rate.

Still, it was a vast improvement over traveling by wish.

Achilles took the first shift driving, swearing as he laboriously kept under the speed limit.

“Usually I drive as fast as I want, and if I get pulled over, I just flash my Bureau badge.”

“You don’t even have a license on you now.”

Dee wondered what would happen if they did get pulled over. Neither of them carried any ID. And if the cops were in cahoots with the opposition, Dee and Achilles might very well find themselves deported. Or worse.

Instead of dwelling on these gloomy thoughts, Dee played with the radio.

The mountainous terrain meant that stations faded in and out, and neither of them wanted to listen to anything religious or anything that covered current news, so finding something suitable was a challenge.

When Dee managed to tune in a station playing old pop music, Achilles held up a hand. “Let’s listen to this for a while.”

“Whitney Houston? I wouldn’t have guessed she was your jam.”

“Not really. But my parents used to play top-40s radio at their shop. I think they thought it would help appeal to younger customers. It didn’t, but it was sort of the soundtrack of my childhood.”

Dee kept the station on until it faded away near the Oregon border.

* * *

It was early afternoon when they arrived in Portland with Dee behind the wheel.

Spring had arrived during his absence, and the trees in his neighborhood flaunted a gaudy surplus of blooms in pinks, whites, and yellows.

Daffodils nodded in front yards. Because the sun was out, pedestrians strolled slowly with their children and dogs, and even the bicyclists seemed less hell-bent than usual.

Despite the fact that he was rolling into a trap of his own making, Dee found himself smiling. This place had been home for almost a year, and he’d missed it.

He parked the Jeep on the street in front of his apartment, gathered his few belongings as Achilles did the same, and led the way. “I don’t have the key,” he remembered.

“It was unlocked when I stopped by. Maybe still is.”

And sure enough, it was. Dee allowed himself a moment of sadness—not a soul had even noticed he was gone—before entering.

Then he made a face. “Ugh. It stinks.” When Ashley had arrived, he’d stuffed a few things in a suitcase and walked right out the door, not pausing to take out the garbage or clean the fridge.

Looking back on it, he couldn’t recall what had been going on in his head at the time.

And now, the fact that Ashley had messed with his mind made him angry.

Achilles pointed at the coffee table. “That pizza looks like it may have evolved far enough to come under Bureau jurisdiction.”

“I’m gonna clean up, okay?”

“I’ll help. Just… I should probably stay inside, away from open windows. In case anyone’s watching.”

Although Dee strongly disliked the idea of being spied on, he nodded and started gathering what used to be a decent pie from Baby Doll, up on Stark Street.

Achilles headed for the kitchen. It was a small apartment, so it didn’t take long to tidy up.

It was good to have the foul smell gone, but now the barrenness was more evident.

Dee had lived with battered thrift-store furniture, well-worn thrift-store clothing, and a few items of thrift-store kitchenware.

There was nothing inherently wrong with picking up what was cheap and expedient, but nothing in his apartment was there because he liked it.

He’d accumulated stuff, but none of it was meaningful.

Perhaps for some people, a lack of attachment to personal possessions meant they were approaching a Buddhist ideal.

But in Dee’s case, it just meant he hadn’t bothered to give a damn.

“I bet your place is really nice,” he said, throwing himself onto the couch next to Achilles.

“I like it.”

“So what do we do now? Just sit around and wait for someone evil to show up?”

“Pretty much. It might help if you try to make it obvious you’re home. Turn lights on. Walk to nearby shops. But right now, could you give me a wish?”

Dee’s heart sped a bit. He felt like an addict who’d been offered a hit. “Sure. Hang on.” He jogged into his bedroom, opened the dresser drawer where he kept his collection of baubles, and brought one back to Achilles.

“A hinge?” Achilles asked, looking mildly surprised.

“There’s a salvage hardware store nearby. I sort of wandered in one day and bought a few things. I don’t know why.” At the time, he’d been skeptical that clients would be impressed with a charmed cabinet knob or coat hook, but he’d liked the feel of the pieces in his hand.

“Okay. I wish that I’ll fall unconscious for one hour.”

Dee, the hinge on his palm, blinked. “Why?”

“When they arrive, it’ll look like I’m your captive. You’ll have to come up with a cover story about what you did to keep me zonked out.”

That made sense, but…. “You’ll be completely helpless.”

“Can’t be avoided,” Achilles said grimly. “If they can do that pain finger trick, I’m helpless anyway.”

Remembering, Dee shuddered. “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this. It’s not fair.” He wanted to throw a tantrum. Not that he’d ever expected fairness from the world, but what he and Achilles had to do now, that went beyond the pale.

Achilles, bless him, didn’t tell Dee he was being childish and unreasonable. Instead he nodded solemnly. “If you want to back out of this, I won’t make you do it. And I won’t blame you.”

“But there are no other options for taking these people down.”

“No.” Achilles paused for a moment, scratching his incipient beard. “Which isn’t to say that someone smarter than me won’t come up with a plan, but….”