Page 36

Chapter 35

A dler found himself caught between elation and the terror his mate was ostensibly feeling. It was a strange place to be.

“Uh, clothes,” Gordon said, eyes still on the mirror.

“I’ll loan you some.”

“They won’t fit. You’re so damn fucking big.” Gordon rubbed at the mate bite with his soft towel as if it were paint or ink that might fade that way. Adler was glad he’d kept that towel even if he barely used it himself. He wondered whether he should get another, maybe a smaller one for Gordon’s hair.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’m just saying if you’d rather not wear yesterday’s wardrobe, you can raid mine.”

Gordon turned away from the mirror. His expression was still a bit haunted, a fluffy rabbit not sure if flight was the right choice.

“Right. I didn’t think about that. You probably have several pairs of sweatpants, don’t you?”

Adler chuckled. “Sure, but they’re nice ones. When I plant my butt on the couch for a weekend, I do so in style. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Plant your butt on the couch, pfft,” Gordon mumbled.

He didn’t quite smile, but almost. That made Adler ridiculously proud because of course he would be proud about making his mate smile. I don’t understand how he wears the mark of my teeth, but he does. He’s mine. Adler let Gordon leave the bathroom first, and when the vampire’s back was turned, Adler looked at his own wrist, at where Gordon had bitten him. And I am his.

The vampire bite had faded to a slightly shimmery scar as well. The rational part of Adler’s brain knew this was something entirely uncharted, something he’d not known could happen. He could acknowledge that Gordon’s mild panic was warranted. He just couldn’t find it in himself to panic as well. The wolf side of him—the deepest, most instinctual part of his being—knew things were as they should be. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. He and Gordon were one, and the wolf was overjoyed.

“Oh,” Gordon said. With Adler half lost in thought, the vampire had started opening a drawer, the one Adler kept his ropes in.

“It would take me some time to get you dressed in those, sweetheart, but you’ll look beautiful, if you choose to let me put them on you.”

“Rope play you mean?”

“Yup.” Adler stepped up to Gordon, looked over his shoulder, and ran his index finger along Gordon’s right hand. It was outstretched, curious, almost touching a coil of white silk rope. “Here. And maybe I’d bind your ankles. I can make it so you are totally confined in the bind and have to surrender to me. You might want to struggle at first, you might not be able to help it, but it won’t get you anywhere. You’ll have to take my fingers, my cock, my mouth.”

Gordon shivered, and Adler could scent the arousal on him.

“We just went at it in the shower, I have a scar on my shoulder that shouldn’t be there, and I was promised pants.” He exhaled slowly. “Detective.”

“Sure. Come here.”

Adler took Gordon’s hand and led him to the wall-length wardrobe opposite the bed. He showed him a nice pair of sweatpants and a black tee that had always been a little too tight on Adler.

Gordon put on both, going commando without comment. Adler didn’t comment either, unless one were to count the sudden bulge under his towel. He managed to get that covered with a pair of black jeans before Gordon could see and put on a simple white shirt. It was ridiculous. Adler disliked dressing up unless he was on the clock, but he wanted to look good next to his mate.

The rain had faded to brittle sunshine and high humidity, but the foyer of 43 Ruthaven greeted them with welcoming cool. Adler clocked the same building attendant behind the front desk he’d already met a few times, and he shot the man a smile.

“Hi. Me and my—me and Dr. Morris are here to see Maxim. Is he around?”

The black-haired man nodded. “Upstairs in the restaurant. He and Heath are having breakfast.”

He indicated the elevators. About three minutes later, Gordon and Adler walked into that very restaurant and bar they had first been set up in. The very place from where Adler had watched Gordon run.

Adler spotted Maxim right away, the hunter’s golden mane even more unmissable when it wasn’t tightly braided.

“Gordon, did you know Maxim has other clothes apart from those tight hunter pants?”

Gordon looked at where Adler had spotted the vampire, who slowly—creepily—turned in his chair and faced them with a toothy smile.

“Did you think they were fused with his skin? I’ve seen that in corpses, but only after burns.”

Gordon was whispering, barely loud enough for Adler to hear.

“My turtle doves!” Maxim said and waved. “Come hither! Watch Heath waking with me.”

Heath groaned audibly, and when Gordon and Adler reached the table, set prettily with a small flower arrangement, toast, and a large pot of coffee, the dhampir looked at them out of red-rimmed eyes.

“What’re they doing here? ’S done. Stupid murder shit is done.”

“Darling, mind your hungover manners.” Maxim gestured. “We had celebratory drinks last night, but Heath takes after…no one in my immediate circle of friends or acquaintances when it comes to holding his liquor.” He leaned on his elbow while Adler and Gordon each took a seat. Gordon eyed the coffee pot as if it were a virgin neck. “Oh dear. Peas in a pot.” He signaled to a server. “Chickens, did you just come here for coffee? Or to talk about the case?”

Heath groaned. “Not the case. No more.”

“What’s with the case? Is Dr. Jackson okay?” Gordon asked.

Maxim nodded. “Ever medically mindful, are you. She is fine. You remember the fae bouncer from the Red Clover?”

“Yeah. He didn’t seem scared of you,” Adler said.

Maxim looked as if he approved of the observation. “He is quite experienced and thought to curry favor with me. He sought an audience last night and offered extensive surveillance footage of the club, which he does in fact own.”

“I hate surveillance footage. Loathe it. Cut out my eyes. Put knitting needles in my eyes.”

“Shh, darling, drink your coffee.”

The server came over with extra toast and plates as well as cups for the two of them.

“Thanks, Clement,” Gordon said, and Adler’s eyes snapped to the server.

I can take him. If he tries anything with my mate, I can take him.

“Oh?” The single syllable sounded amused the way Maxim said it.

Gordon looked at Adler before Adler could relax again. The server was leaving. He hadn’t so much as smiled at either of them.

“Adler, you okay?” Gordon asked.

“Light in a werewolf’s eye, fire in his heart. Such is the mark of love and lusting trust in fur and tooth.”

Heath banged his head against the table. “Will you fucking stop, old bat? I cannot do your stupid poetry when I’m hungover.”

Maxim slowly turned his head and regarded his son for about five seconds.

“There once was a lamb who was little

And proclaimed: I can drink like a fiddle

But the lamb was quite wrong

And the liquor too strong

If he hurts, he should have a dill pickle.”

Heath lifted his head. “I hate you right now. I need you to understand that I hate you right now. Who would let someone drink a whole bottle of Wild Turkey?” He dropped his head back to the table. “Ouch.”

“There, there. Now, you two are so cozy. And Adler, you are even more protective of Gordon than you were yesterday. Oh, my.”

Adler was about to say something, but then Gordon sat up straight and pulled the collar of his shirt so that his mate bite showed.

“Do you have any idea what the fuck this is?”

Maxim grinned. “Something better than wedding bells I daresay. Oh, and I believe you owe me money, Heath, darling.”

Heath looked up. “Fucking hell. You two fucked and got toothy? No one ever tell you to use protection?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Adler saw Gordon’s jaw drop. Adler though, couldn’t help himself. A wide smile poked at his cheeks.