Page 5

Chapter 5

Nathan

“Hey, holy man.” The low rumble of Storm’s voice sent a shiver rolling down Nathan’s spine.

Hands slid up the back of his shirt, and weight rocked firmly against his front. Nathan moaned, tipping his head back and inviting Storm’s sinful mouth to latch onto his throat. Those big hands slipped down, guiding his legs up and apart to make room.

Their clothes were gone now, everything slick and hot between them. Nathan rutted up against Storm’s rock-solid body, their hard cocks pressed together and sending sparks of pleasure fizzing down his spine. Nathan moaned, helpless and wanton.

He didn’t have to do anything. Pleasure coursed through him, an ember coaxed into an inferno by the demon pinning him to the bed. Lips found his, and a slick tongue invaded his mouth. Storm would make him feel good. All he had to do was let go and trust.

Trust the demon. Give himself over. It seemed wrong, but nothing this good could be wrong.

“Let me take care of you, holy man,” Storm said. “I’ll take such good care of you.”

He threw his head back as the pleasure reached its crest, exploding out of him with a shout.

* * *

Nathan woke with sticky boxers and groaned up at the ceiling. He was far too old for this kind of behavior. He could admit, at least to himself, that maybe Storm had awakened something in him he hadn’t known was there. Bisexuality was a thing, and just because he’d never considered it before didn’t mean he couldn’t be now . Certainly, he’d admired some of his fellow paladins out in the training yard and the weight room, but he’d thought everybody did that. He was reevaluating that now. He was reevaluating lots of things.

That it was a demon who awakened something like this in him was… unfortunate. But as long as it remained a naughty fantasy, everything would be okay. The best thing he could do was to put the dream from his mind and focus on more important things.

Throwing himself into the shower, he erased all the embarrassing evidence of his unfortunate night and stuffed the soiled boxers into the washing machine in the hall closet.

He checked his phone as he wandered to the kitchen, and his stomach flipped when he saw a text from Storm. Pale sunlight streamed through the small window over the sink. It seemed the rainstorm had passed. Maybe he could get some training in today. That should help take his mind off last night’s dream.

It was good meeting you yesterday.

Awareness prickled down Nathan’s spine. A simple text from a halfling shouldn’t make him feel this way.

You too.

He busied himself with making some coffee and pouring it into a travel mug, determined to ignore his phone—until it chimed again. Against his will, his eyes slid to the screen.

Spoke to the others. You can come by the Rink tonight if you’d like.

Oh. That was quick. Nathan pondered how to answer as he went out to his car and started the engine.

Great, thanks. I’ll let you know later today, if that’s ok. Got to update Sloan, and I’ll try to get a copy of that footage.

The dots bounced… and bounced… and bounced. What was he typing?

Be careful.

That was it. Warmth bloomed in Nathan’s chest, and he tucked his phone into the space below the dash. He didn’t even realize he was smiling, small and lopsided, until he saw himself in the rearview mirror.

Storm was worried about him. That was… nice.

* * *

Nathan didn’t relish the administrative side of hunting demons, and giving this particular report was going to be even less fun than the ones for routine patrols. Sloan had given rather dubious permission for him to approach the defectors, and he feared that being too honest about how hopeful his meeting with Storm made him would drive Sloan in the opposite direction. He would have to maintain a delicate balance during this conversation in order to keep Sloan’s favor.

He knocked on the office door, which stood ajar, and Sloan looked up from his computer. Indirect sunlight filtered in through the pair of windows behind him, highlighting the scattered gray strands in his dark hair.

“Captain Accardi, please come in. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs across the desk from him.

At one time, Nathan was quite comfortable in this office. For years, he’d never doubted that Sloan would have his back no matter what. Now, he sat stiffly and waited for instruction.

Sloan pushed his keyboard away and threaded his fingers together on his desk. “All right, tell me how the first contact with the traitors went.”

Nathan fought the urge to wince. He was still calling them ‘traitors.’ That didn’t bode well. He tried not to fidget. “It went well. I was put in contact with a halfling named?—”

Sloan’s lip curled. “A halfling ? Why not one of the traitors themselves? Were they too afraid to face you?” Something satisfied, even smug, crossed his face.

Nathan chose his words carefully. “I don’t know exactly, sir. I think they’re pretty wary at this point. I also think sending the halfling was also their way of checking the validity of my offer. If I wasn’t willing to work with him, they’d know I wasn’t serious about the truce.”

Sloan massaged the bridge of his nose. “Despicable. We don’t want a truce with the halflings. You can make your argument that they don’t kill people, and while that’s technically true, they are still demons. I don’t think associating with demons of any kind is wise. If you want to have a truce with the traitors, fine, but the halflings are a different matter entirely.”

Anxiety twisted like a coiled serpent within him. “All due respect, commander, but I think it would be wise to have a truce with both the humans and the halflings. At this point, they’re rather entwined, anyway. Moving against the halflings would incite the humans.”

Sloan hummed noncommittally. “Yes, well, I suppose we’ll see. You said you spoke to this halfling, then? How’d that go?” His lip curled distastefully, like the thought of being in a room with one was nauseating.

Nathan fought to keep his face impassive. “It went well enough. He agreed to meet in a public location of my choosing at noon. He said he wanted to make sure I was being truthful.”

Sloan barked out a laugh. “That’s rich coming from a demon.”

Nathan gritted his teeth together. “He said he’d talk to the humans about letting me meet with them next. I was hoping you could send me a copy of the footage. I’d like to let them see it so they can be on the lookout.” He didn’t mention the Rink or Storm’s text from this morning. He didn’t think it was wise to tell Sloan that he’d already been invited to see their base of operations. A part of him worried what Sloan would do with the knowledge of the base’s location.

“Yes, I can send that to your email. So you feel confident about how this is going?”

Nathan couldn’t read Sloan’s shuttered expression. “Yes, I do. The halfling was perfectly polite. I’m confident that if I play by their rules, they’ll become more trusting, and a lasting truce may truly be possible. Then we can all focus on the real mission—protecting people.”

Sloan’s pale blue eyes were like shards of ice. “Good. Show them the footage, gain their trust. See if they’ll invite you to their base. They have to be operating from somewhere.”

“Their base? Why?”

Sloan’s cool gaze didn’t waver. “Because I’m ordering it, Captain Accardi.”

Nathan’s stomach lurched with anxiety. He lowered his eyes and nodded deferentially. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

“And keep me apprised of the situation, would you? I want to know what’s happening every step of the way.”

An alarm bell rang in the back of Nathan’s head. “Of course, Commander.”

“And let me know what they say about the footage. Which reminds me—I contacted the coroner. She’s one you’ve met before. I’d like you to go and take a look at the body. It’ll be at the morgue until the end of the week. That’s when they’ll cremate.”

Nathan winced. He’d like nothing less , but he understood Sloan’s reasons for asking. The coroner wasn’t trained to recognize demonic activity like the paladins were, which was likely why she reached out. He wondered if he might invite one of the defectors along, too, so they would be completely in the loop about the case.

“I’ll do that first thing tomorrow, Commander.”

Sloan nodded. “You’re dismissed, then. Go with God, Captain.”

“And you, as well.”

Nathan ducked out of the room as quickly as he’d come, breathing out a sigh of relief. Sloan obviously wasn’t thrilled that he was actually pursuing this truce, and Nathan didn’t like that he was pushing for the location of their base. The paladins had tried to kill them more than once. What reason did Sloan have for wanting to know where their base was? Was he planning something? The idea of Nathan being inadvertently complicit in whatever Sloan was planning made him feel physically sick. He wanted this truce to work. Maybe including them in the case would show Sloan how good things could be if they all worked together. Protecting the innocent was still the goal, wasn’t it?

He tugged his phone from his jeans and opened up the chat with Storm.

Ok, I’d love to come by tonight. What’s the address?

There wasn’t an immediate response, so he pocketed his phone and headed toward the training yard. His squad was meeting for drills today, since their next patrol was tomorrow night.

The midmorning sun was bright, the air warm. There were a dozen men and women out on the running track, and half his squad was already at the weapons shed, picking out practice swords.

“Morning, Cap,” Aidan called, tossing him a wooden sword.

“Good morning, team. We’ll run through some technique drills first, then some sparring, and top it off with a nice, brisk run. Sound good?”

“No, terrible,” Judah drawled. He was fresh from graduation, nineteen and far more sarcastic than he should be. Nathan cuffed him over the back of the head, and he laughed.

The day passed at a crawl. Nathan was glad he’d dropped his things in the locker room, because the constant urge to check his phone was almost overwhelming. He wanted to know if Storm had responded, and the chance to see him again had something like hope taking root in his gut. He couldn’t stop thinking about how warm his chest had been under Nathan’s palm. Not many guys were bigger than him. Nathan was six foot one. He’d never thought being crowded against a wall by someone taller than him would give him such a sinful thrill. Logically, he knew nothing could come of this infatuation, but no amount of well-reasoned logic could stop him from obsessing. No one had ever made him feel like this before.

He waited until he’d showered in the locker room and gone back to his car to head home for the afternoon before allowing himself to check his phone. By then, he was practically vibrating with need.

What’s yours? I’ll pick you up and take you there.

Heat rolled through him. Storm wanted to know where he lived? Just because he wanted to know, or because he’d been instructed not to give their Rink’s address away? If it was the latter, he couldn’t exactly blame them. But he really hoped it was the former.

Going to blindfold me on the way there?

He put the car in drive, but his phone chimed again before he could move out of his parking spot.

Only if you’re into that kind of thing.

Nathan had to hand it to him. He managed to both give nothing away and give Nathan a strange fluttery feeling in his gut with that one sentence. Rather than risk embarrassing himself with a response to that , he typed out his address and tucked the phone away, determined to ignore it while he drove. He had to get home and make sure everything was presentable.

Or maybe he should avoid inviting Storm inside at all. He couldn’t risk getting too friendly. Whatever had happened between them in the coffee shop was… strange and intense. How much worse might that be when they were alone in his house?

When he pulled into the narrow driveway at home, he paused, staring at the facade of the little white stucco house and wondering what Storm would see when he looked at it. He’d lived on the grounds of HQ for years while he saved up for it. It was quaint, surrounded by trees and on a narrow street, not far from Angeles National Forest. There was a brick walkway and stoop. It wasn’t a big place. Less than a quarter of an acre, with a privacy fence edging the property, and the house itself was not quite a thousand square feet. But he’d lived alone all his adult life, so it was all he needed.

Telling himself he didn’t care what a demon thought about the home he’d worked for, he threw himself from the car, yawning as he keyed open the front door.

He needed a nap or an afternoon coffee if he wanted to be alert for this encounter tonight. Maybe both. Toeing his shoes off by the door, he collapsed on the sofa, promising himself he’d get up and make coffee in just a few minutes.