Page 11 of The Devil’s Bargain (A Devil to Die for #3)

The commotion at the door pulled Titus away from the kitchen, where he’d been busily making dinner. Though it was late in the evening, he half expected Calix to be the one standing out on the front porch, considering the text he had sent little under an hour ago explaining he was on his way home.

What Titus had not anticipated was his Third stumbling into his arms the moment he pulled the front door open, or the man who staggered in after him in a poor attempt to help keep Cal upright.

Titus let out a warning growl before he could help himself, tugging Calix deeper into the foyer and away from the unwanted guest.

“Oh, Director Mercer,” Nero sounded just as surprised to see him as he was. “I didn’t realize you would be here.”

“Where else would I be?”

“No, no,” he cleared his throat. “Cal did mention the two of you knew each other. I just didn’t expect you to be visiting him—”

“This is my house,” he clipped out, resituating the incredibly wasted detective squirming in his arms.

Nero drew up, his shock deepening. “Beg your pardon?”

“We live together,” Titus stated. “Is that a problem for you, Mr. Quentin?”

“No, of course not!”

“Good, then may I ask what it is you’re doing here? With my boyfriend?”

“Your—” He covered his mistake with a cough and retreated a pointed step, placing him on the other side of the doorway in one swift move. “I apologize, Director. We were catching up at the bar, and Calix had one too many.”

“So I see.”

“I called a driver,” he motioned over his shoulder to the car idling on the street, “and since it’s my car, it only made sense to drop Cal off first. I’ll be going now that I’ve seen he’s made it in safely.”

“Do that.” Titus didn’t have the energy to bother with false pretenses, not with Calix’s mouth currently pressing sloppy kisses to the side of his neck, and Nero’s unwanted attention trailing to the back of his head. “That’s your cue to go, Mr. Quentin.”

“Yes, yes,” he gave an awkward laugh. “Goodnight!”

Titus slammed the door in his face.

“I have a reputation you’re messing with,” he growled down at his Third as soon as they were alone. “You’re playing with fire here, Calix.”

“Actually, it was vodka.” He grinned and tried to pull away, only to lose his footing. His arms banded around Titus’s neck when he reached for him, clinging and laughing like this situation was something to find humor in.

Meanwhile, Titus was seething.

“I’m this close to taking your blaster and going after him,” he warned, eyes narrowing when Calix huffed.

“You can’t do that.”

“Can’t I?”

“No, he’s my friend.”

“Friend?” Last he’d heard, Nero Quentin and Calix were all but sworn enemies with a sordid past. But then, if Cal could forgive Titus and Aodhan for all the things they’d done…

Why wouldn’t he have the capacity to forgive his old high school classmate as well?

Especially since he’d arguably wronged Nero more.

How far did this forgiveness go?

“We’re going to start meeting more regularly,” Calix chattered on, completely oblivious to Titus’s darkening thoughts, despite the link being open between them. “I can’t remember the last time I had a real friend who wanted to do things and chat. Maybe coming back here wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Absolutely not.” Titus dragged Calix toward the stairs and then up to the second level, storming straight to the room they’d kept the detective in—the one he’d insisted on keeping when they’d returned—and into the bathroom.

Maintaining a death grip on his arm, Titus slammed and locked the door and then pulled him to the tub, flicking the faucets on, testing to be sure the spray was as hot as it could be without fear of causing actual harm.

Once he was satisfied, he stripped Cal of his clothing, annoyed by how much more difficult the task was due to his drunken state.

“No more drinking,” he stated. “From now on, you’re forbidden.”

Calix scowled. “You can’t—”

“You won’t be meeting with that boy again either.”

“That…boy?” He struggled against Titus’s hold for the first time, but was no match for him. “That boy is the same age as I am.”

Titus lifted him and dropped him into the tub, pressing his shoulders down until he was seated and the water was up past his waist.

“Mother fucker!” Cal clawed at him. “It’s fucking boiling!”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s hot. But it’s not even close to boiling. Like I would risk your perfect skin.”

“When you’re this angry?!” he yelled. “I wouldn’t put it past you!”

“Oh,” Titus captured his nape and hauled him forward, their noses practically touching, “so you are aware how cross I am with you right now?”

Calix braced himself against the lip of the tub, but the water had done the trick, and there was a lot more clarity in his gaze than there’d been even a moment before. He swallowed, voice steadying. “Mercy, please. It’s hot. Let me out.”

“Not until I’m positive we’ve cleaned the filth off of you.”

“Filth?”

“Where did he touch you?” Titus’s gaze roamed over his naked form, only growing angrier by the second. “Did he see you like this? Has he seen you like this in the past?”

How foolish not to have considered as much prior.

“We went to school together,” Calix tentatively said, as though he’d rather not, but knew better than to try and get away with a lie. “I told you about it.”

Right. He had. He’d mentioned how Nero had discovered the things Sister Grace had done to him because he’d seen some of the marks.

In gym class.

While changing.

“Forget his spine. I’m going to tear out his eyes.” That wouldn’t solve the problem though, not really. Nero already had images of Calix seared in his memory, after all.

Brain dead?

He could do that. Killing him outright would draw too much attention, and they’d only just escaped being connected to the murders, not to mention the fact that Amory’s death was still unknown.

But even if murder was out, that didn’t make him entirely powerless. Titus could easily turn Nero into a vegetable. Could—

“Stop,” Calix’s trembling voice caught his attention. “I don’t like this.”

Had he felt the darkness through the bond?

Yes, that must be it, because now that Titus was aware of it, he could feel Aodhan’s responding worry. It was rare for him to completely lose his cool. The doctor’s concern held merit.

Titus shoved Cal roughly away, ignoring the splash of steaming water that doused his front in the process, and stood, sending off a quick explanation to Aodhan before he removed his multi-slate and tossed it onto the counter.

“…Mercy…” Calix’s eyes went wide, gaze dropping to his hands as Titus began to unbuckle his pants.

“I warned you what would happen if I ever caught you with someone else.”

“Whoa!” Calix threw up his palms. “Whoa, no, no, no. There’s been a misunderstanding. Nothing happened between Nero and me. I would never!”

“Never what?” Titus slid out of his pants and reached for his shirt, maintaining eye contact as he slowly undid each button. He wanted his little monster nervous. Wanted him to freak out and imprint this moment on his mind the same way Nero had no doubt imprinted the way he looked naked on his.

Wanted Calix to think twice the next time some other man invited him out for drinks or anything else.

Good Light, Aodhan was bad enough to handle, what with all the attention sent his way for so much as existing. Having one golden boy on his hands was already a test against his possessive nature, but now this?

Titus had always prided himself on his ability to keep a level head.

To not overreact over meaningless interactions—like the way that waitress at the dumpling restaurant across from the hospital batted her lashes at his doctor every chance she got—or cause unnecessary scenes.

His pod had their own lives, after all, even if their lives belonged to him, and it wouldn’t do to get pissy every time they received someone else’s attention.

He'd chosen sexy mates. He knew that. Sexy mates were noticeable. That was on him.

But Aodhan and Calix would be as well. On him.

Him.

No one else.

Finished undressing, Titus stepped up to the tub, hand shooting out to squeeze around Calix’s jaw.

“Mercy,” the detective licked his parted lips, “nothing happened. I swear. I would never do anything like that with anyone else. I would never cheat on you. You have to believe me.”

“Do I?”

His brow furrowed. “Mercy? Come on. You don’t really think—”

“What I think,” he cut him off and then released him long enough to step into the tub, only slightly appeased when Calix immediately shifted to make room for him, “is that there’s far too much evidence against you at the moment.

Whether you allowed his touch or not, I witnessed him holding you myself. ”

“He was just trying to make sure I didn’t fall,” Cal argued.

“Right, because you let your guard down around him. Getting this wasted with another? Putting yourself in such a vulnerable state that you required his touch to remain upright? Does that sound innocent to you?”

Calix had the good sense to hang his head, still seated while Titus stood towering over him. “No. I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t,” Titus said. “But you will be.”