Page 19

Finn Merritt. Wake up.

Groaning at the pain in his head, Finn rolls over and presses his nose into the back of Luca’s neck. It’s comforting, and that lovely mocha smell is one of Finn’s favorite scents in the world, so he lets it lull him back into slumber.

It’s your phone.

His phone? Is it ringing?

They are tracking your phone, Finn.

The words are followed by images flickering at lightning speed through his mind.

A stocky man, who smells like licorice and is wearing a worker’s jacket with a black beanie, walks through the ER.

There’s a flash, and Finn sees the to-go cup from Common Grounds; another flash shows him sitting in med-bay three, complaining about a sore stomach.

Yet another, and Finn is smiling because it turns out to be flatulence.

The images slow as the man thanks him, then bumps into Finn and spills lukewarm coffee all over his shirt.

Yes, him. You must get rid of your phone, Finn. Do it now.

Finn tries to shove the voice out of his mind.

He doesn’t want to believe his family could be in danger because of him.

It’s just his imagination–just a dream. He’s always been an active dreamer, after all.

Closing his eyes, he pictures himself smashing the phone, the thought both desperate and oddly satisfying.

No. You must go to the lobby. There is a man headed for Jacksonville, right now. Hurry !

The voice’s insistence is enough to wake him fully, and he sits up in bed, his morning arousal semi-hard against his thigh. What a rude awakening.

The room is dark, and the dream is still fresh in his mind. It’s more than an urgent recollection, it feels like a weight pressing behind his eyes, sending shivers skittering down his spine.

His phone is sitting on the bedside table, but at that moment, he is 100% sure he’d left it in his bag. Or did he?

It’s still turned off, but the dream seemed so real.

Finn is a man of science, of logic. But he lives with—and loves—Gideon, who is spiritual in his day-to-day life; and he’s also lived through the past five months and has seen miracles. Loves a miracle, in fact. The least Finn can do is test the hypothesis.

He’s sad to leave the heat and softness of Luca behind, but dresses in a hoodie and sweats from the pile on the couch. He shifts his pillow into the space he left behind Luca, making sure it supports his mate’s back, before quietly checking on his other mates.

Jay is lying on his back with Leo’s head on his shoulder, both of them tucked under a single sheet on the pullout couch.

They’re snoring in a synchronized rumble, and even though both are light sleepers, neither twitches an eyelid when he slides a key for the room and his phone into his pocket. Finn is glad because he doesn’t want to explain himself, and the voice had said he should hurry.

Creeping toward the door, his foot bumps into an empty water bottle Rowan had tossed onto the floor. He freezes at the sound, holding his breath when Nix sighs and shifts, rolling into Grayson and tugging Rowan’s arm along with him.

Once again, they’re curled up like kittens in a pile on the second bed. When no one stirs, he lets out a silent rush of air in relief.

But where’s Gideon?

Finn checks for a light under the restroom door, but it’s as dark as the rest of the room.

He can’t remember where everyone had slept last night, as he’d fallen asleep right after his shower, his headache pounding hard behind his eyes.

Not even Nix sending healing vibrations along their bond had helped.

The others had seemed calmer (and therefore quieter) after learning Lauren Costas had a plan, even if it was a shock that her history of international education and modeling had led to a covert career in espionage.

In retrospect, it made sense to Finn, but Leo had been uncharacteristically discombobulated since finding out.

They only had to wait until her “people” made contact, and then they could get to “higher ground” and “regroup” before they had to do what they came to do—it’s far too much hyperbole for Finn’s liking.

But to do that, Finn had to first figure out if there was anything to this voice’s demands.

The digital clock on the bedside table says it’s early in the morning, so Finn slides on a random pair of shoes.

Judging by the loose fit, they’re Jay’s, but there’s no time to search out his own sneakers; these will do in a pinch.

He’s busy congratulating himself for making it across the gauntlet of sleeping mates in the semi-dark when he almost steps on his errant, ever-vigilant mate.

“Fuck!” he whisper-shouts.

“Where are you going, Dr. Merritt?” Gideon wonders aloud from his spot lying on the floor in front of the door.

No one is getting in—or, in Finn’s case, out—without going through Gideon first.

Which is great in theory, but not when he has covert—and possibly embarrassing—business on the other side of that door.

Finn really should have expected it.

“I asked you a question, and is that your phone in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Gideon effortlessly climbs to his feet, even after what must be hours on the hard floor. He’s still fully clothed, with his shoes on, and a glint in his eye that means business.

There is no doubt in Finn’s mind that this is a predator, and it presses all of Finn’s buttons.

Messy hair and a smirk that makes his belly clench.

He follows Gideon’s tongue as he licks lips that Finn knows for certain are soft.

Finn’s gaze then tracks down a well-built chest and over his loose sweats.

There is no doubt about it—that is Finn’s phone in his pocket. But now he’s also sporting a more persistent erection, which is definitely happy to see him.

“My eyes are up here, Finley. Where are you going at the ass-crack of dawn?”

Finn just points at the door with his chin, and Gideon gets the locks on the door open in a flash, all but yanking Finn outside with him.

“We can’t be out here for long. What are you doing out here with your phone? We are on fucking lockdown.”

Finn sighs and rubs the back of his neck; it’s something he’s picked up from Jay after all these years.

“Look, I had a dream.”

Gideon looks skeptical. “Like a nightmare? Come back inside. I’ll hold you, and you can go back to sleep.”

There’s a smirk on his face, but Finn knows with absolute certainty that Gideon means the casual words. He’s mastered the talent of being both asshole and hero, all rolled into one incredibly hot package.

“You know you’re such an ass, don’t you? I wish I could say it made you less attractive,” Finn blurts out.

He only realizes he said it out loud when Gideon’s eyes go wide. “Uh…oops.”

Gideon smiles; it’s big and wide. “So not a nightmare, then.” He looks at Finn’s semi and waggles his eyebrows. “Let’s go back in and I’ll get Jay on guard, then we can…”

His eyebrows go crazy again, that pink tongue rounding out his cheek salaciously.

“Fuck, Gid, quit that. It was not a sex dream, either. It was a dream where a voice told me Carnell is tracking my phone, and that I need to plant it on some guy heading out of town instead of smashing it.”

In less than three seconds, Gideon has him by the elbow and headed toward the elevator.

A flick of the down button, and once they’re inside, he pulls Finn’s T-shirt down over his erection and holds his hand out for the phone.

“Stop yanking me around! Wait. Are you saying you believe me? But it’s weird. What if there’s nobody in the lobby?”

“Then there’s no one in the lobby,” Gideon says with a shrug.

“I guess then we’ll know it’s just my overactive imagination, right?”

But what if it’s not, he asks himself. Then what, Finn?

“Just give me the phone. When we get to the lobby, go to the night clerk and keep them distracted. If we are supposed to get it out of town, we’ll need it in this guy’s car so he won’t find it. Just follow my lead.”

Grateful for Gideon’s take-charge attitude, Finn grabs him by the neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

He doesn’t care at all that Gideon’s mouth tastes stale and of last night’s cinnamon toothpaste, or that they only have a few seconds, because Gideon opens for him eagerly.

Unable to resist the temptation to suck Gideon’s tongue into his mouth, he hums and then chases it with his own so he can run it over the tiny, sharp points of Gideon’s fangs, growling “Mate,” as he pulls away.

The elevator smells like lush, ripe black currants and rain when the bell signals their arrival.

Finn feels no small amount of pride in Gideon’s pink cheeks and kiss-raw mouth.

“Fuck me. What was that?”

Gideon groans and reaches inside his sweats to adjust his hard cock upwards so he can tuck it under the waistband instead of how it usually lies, soft down his leg. He then pulls his hoodie down over it, for good measure.

“You are making this up to me later, puppy.”

They exit into the lobby and find only the night clerk there finishing up his shift, shuffling papers and pasting on a tired smile.

“Good morning, is there anything I can help you with?”

There’s no one else in sight, despite what that mysterious voice told him.

Relief washes away Finn’s worry about having been responsible for bringing Carnell to their door yesterday, but it flows back like a wave when the front doors slide open and a harried, middle-aged human in a suit bursts in.

Gideon tenses beside him, and Finn feels a reassuring hand resting at the base of his spine.

“Oh hey, did I leave my credit card with you? Stopped for gas for the drive to Jacksonville and I didn’t have it in my wallet.”

Holy shit.

“Mr. Lethe, welcome back. Oh dear, I haven’t seen it; we should look in the breakfast area. You sat there finishing your coffee before you left.”

The clerk comes around the front desk. “I’ll be right back. Why not help yourself to breakfast while you wait?”

He smiles, following the harried Mr. Lethe into the small dining area.