I’m sorry, my love. Truly. I would never wish any sort of discomfort upon you.

  “I’m sensing a ‘but.’” Alexander sat up, using Rota’s tentacles to grab his jacket so he could get a cigarette.

  But that was still very mean of you. You can feel him too. I know you can. And so you know as well as I do that Ollie’s intentions were not so lecherous. He wanted to share in our happiness—

  “See, there’s the problem. It’s our happiness. A fuckin’ happiness we’ve waited years to have! I don’t wanna share shit.”

  Why did you lie about feeling him through the bond?

  “Hey! Get out of my head,” Alexander warned, glaring as he lit up. “I lied because… because….” He was flustered, and he took a deep drag before his thoughts took over to finish the sentence. Because it felt like it belonged with us, like the most natural thing in the world, and I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.

  There is nothing wrong with being attracted to Ollie, Rota soothed. He is very handsome and kind—

  “He’s an idiot.”

  Ah, but a very sweet one! You like him and you don’t want to admit it.

  “We’ve barely known him a day. Chill.” Alexander ran a hand through his hair, flicking his ashes away.

  Alexander….

  “Stay out of my head, Rota. There’s nothing else to talk about, and it’s not happening again.”

  Hmph. Rota sounded like he was smiling. All right.

  “What?” Alexander didn’t understand why Rota was so happy about that. He’d expected more of a fight.

  I’ll remember you said that.

  “Smug bastard.”

  Brat.

  Alexander smiled, and the tension brewing between them faded. He didn’t like fighting with Rota, and he was truly thankful to Ollie for allowing them to have this intimate time together.

  But he didn’t care how right it had felt—Ollie didn’t belong with them.

  After finishing his cigarette and cleaning up, Alexander got dressed. They still had work to do, like catching a murderer and translating the book still tucked away in his trench coat pocket.

  The sooner, the better.

  He stepped out into the living room, and he didn’t immediately see Ollie.

  Kitchen, Rota said.

  Alexander headed there, stopping short when he saw….

  Ollie was cleaning.

  “Oh, hey!” Ollie flashed a bright smile, loading the last of what had cluttered the sink into the dishwasher. He was wearing a fresh pair of sweatpants and nothing else. “You hungry?”

  “What are you doing?” Alexander noticed a frying pan on the stove he hadn’t been able to see before because of the trash. Something yellow, maybe eggs, was cooking.

  “Well, okay, it’s dorky, but there’s always, like, breakfast the morning after?” Ollie popped in a tab of soap and closed the dishwasher. “You know, the morning after the sex. And I know this is still like, the afternoon, but I thought you might… maybe want to eat something. Uh. After that.”

  Alexander’s stomach fluttered, and he ignored a nudge from Rota. He crossed his arms. “Thank you.”

  Thank you, Ollie, Rota gushed. That’s so very thoughtful of you. Isn’t that thoughtful, Alexander?

  “I said thank you,” he muttered.

  “I figured after we eat, we could go look up Tim like you talked about and go see him,” Ollie suggested.

  “And what are we eating?” Alexander peered around Ollie and frowned at the stove.

  “I’m making scrambled eggs.”

  “Sure about that?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “The pan is on fire.”

  “Fuck!”

  Chapter 7.

  THE EGGS could not be saved, but luckily Ollie had more.

  While Ollie began again on a fresh batch of scrambled eggs, Alexander used Ollie’s laptop to look up Tim Bateman. Tracking him down through the Lucian church directory was laughably easy, and it wasn’t long before Alexander had all of his personal information, including his home address.

  “Oh yeah. That’s Tim!” Ollie said as he brought over three plates balanced on his arm. He plopped right beside Alexander, setting them down around the coffee table and pointing at the picture of a middle-aged man with graying hair. “That’s him.”

  “I know. It has his name under the picture.” Alexander scooted over purposefully. “Why are there three plates?”

  “There’s three of us?” Ollie scoffed and took a big bite of eggs, shaking his head.

  “Rota doesn’t eat.”

  It’s still very thoughtful. Rota was smiling, and it sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

  “Well. Fine.” Ollie picked up the extra plate and dumped it on his own. “Hmmph.”

  Thank you, Rota said. I appreciate it.

  “You’re welcome.” Ollie kept on eating. “So, we gonna go after this?”

  “No.” Alexander picked at his plate. “Rota and I are. You need to stay here.”

  “Wait, I thought I was going with you.”

  So did I. Rota was frowning now. What’s wrong, Alexander?

  Alexander had to fight to control his thoughts, and he replied hastily, “It’s not safe. We don’t know what sort of person Tim really is, and Ollie needs to get lit and translate a book.” Lala, nope, nope, lalala, nooope.

  Alexander….

  “You don’t want me to come because of the sex?” Ollie asked bluntly, picking right up on the very thing Alexander didn’t want him to hear.

  Dammit! Alexander groaned.

  Are you still upset? Rota asked.

  “No! I mean, yes! I just….” Alexander dropped his fork and stood up in a huff. I can still feel where you were inside of me, and it’s weird having him right here. It’s all fucking weird, and I don’t like feeling this out of control. “I want to go.”

  Ollie either didn’t hear Alexander’s frantic thoughts or, more likely, chose to ignore them. “No, yeah. I can hang back, uh, I gotta translate. Book. On it.”

  No, Rota argued. Ollie, you’re coming with us. He turned on Alexander, sliding a tentacle along his arm. You know he isn’t safe here, and Stoker may come back to check. We talked about this.

  Alexander gritted his teeth.

  “I mean, I could… I could go with you.” Ollie fidgeted and shoved another bite of eggs in his mouth. “Um. If you wanted me to. I could, uh, help. Look around and stu-fahfah.”

  “Okay, why do you do that?” Alexander snapped.

  “Do what?” Ollie blinked.

  “Fahfah. Why do you do that?”

  “Because there’s two Fs.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense!” Alexander threw up his hands. “You don’t actually have to say both letters. That’s stupid. It’s so stupid!”

  “But—”

  “No! You don’t say you want bu-tahtah-er on toast, do you?”

  “Well, no—”

  “You don’t say you need a ru-bahbah-er band, huh? Huh?”

  “No.” Ollie held his head high. “Because those aren’t Fs. So, ha!”

  “For fuck’s sake.” Alexander sighed loudly.

  Alexander? Rota pressed. You know Stoker is going to be expecting results, yes? Which means he will probably be checking on us at some point—

  “I know,” Alexander muttered.

  —and since he placed that watchman spell on Ollie, he will be able to take him again if he so chooses. I know you do not want that to happen, do you?

  No, Alexander reluctantly admitted.

  Then sit down right now, finish your eggs, and let us all go together find a Lucian priest to accuse of murder!

  “Damn, Rota,” Ollie whispered in awe. “You’re kinda hot when you’re bossy.”

  Alexander refused to acknowledge the accuracy of that—especially when his face was turning as red as his eyes, thinking about other areas to apply that surprising dominant streak—but he did sit back down and grabbed the eggs. “Whatever.”

  Good boy, Rota said smugly.

  For fuck’s sake. Alexander ate as quickly as he could, and then he had to wait for Ollie to put more clothes on.

  When Ollie came out of the bedroom with a neon green tank top and a blue jacket that was printed with little snowmen to accompany his gray sweats, Alexander didn’t say a word.

  That is, until he saw the sparkly purple jelly sandals.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Clothes?” Ollie shrugged. “What?”

  “I can’t believe I’m going out in public with you. Again.”

  “Hey, we can’t all dress like cool little vampires.”

  “Vampire?”

  Ollie raised two of his fingers up to his mouth to mimic fangs and hissed.

  “Ohhh, you big idiot—”

  Now, now, Rota scolded. You both look very handsome. Alexander, your trench coat is very dashing. Ollie, I love all the colors, and your shoes look very comfortable.

  “Thank you.” Ollie beamed. “They are.”

  “Let’s fuckin’ go.” Alexander raised his hand to direct Rota’s magic. “First stop, the church.”

  Lucian churches were nearly always white brick or stone with lots of windows and tall steeples. The Archersville First Lucian Solis Church was no different than any other one Alexander had ever seen, and he made a face looking up at the big glass doors. He knew he had been raised Lucian by his parents after seeing some of his own personal documents at Hazel, and there was a very good chance they might have worshipped right here at this very church.

  Then again, there was no way to know for sure. He didn’t remember. A familiar ache resurfaced, and he hated not knowing.

  I’m right here, Rota soothed, sensing his discomfort.

  I know. Alexander charged forward with Ollie behind him, and he pulled open the doors.

  The sanctuary was well lit from the many windows, and the pews were all clean and neat. There was a large sunburst hanging above the pulpit on a red velvet upholstered plaque. A quick scan revealed Lucian protection wards above the windows and doorways, and Alexander sneered.

  All magic originated from the Sagittarian gods, and spells like wards were written or spoken in their language of godstongue. Over time, the Lucians—who claimed magic came from their Lord of Light and not the heathen gods worshipped by Sages—altered spells by adding in their own symbols and words. These additions were ultimately meaningless, and the result was comparable to a bus parked up in the branches of a majestic oak tree.

  Not only did it weaken the original spell, but it was hideous to behold for anyone who could read godstongue. Alexander was hardly fluent in any dialect of the sacred language, but he knew enough to recognize how awful it was.

  “May I help you?” a polite voice asked, piping up from back behind the pulpit.

  Alexander recognized the person speaking as Tim from his picture. He walked toward him with his hands clasped behind his back. A quick perception spell revealed Tim as human with a faint earth aura. “Oh, I think you can.”

  Tim frowned at that, and he looked past Alexander to Ollie. His face lit up with recognition, and he laughed. “Oh! Ollie! Hi! How are you?”

  “Hey, Tim!” Ollie waved. “I’m doin’ okay. Look, uh, me and my boyfriend need to ask you a few questions if that’s okay.”

  “I suppose so?” Tim stepped out from around the pulpit. He was wearing the white-and-gold robes of the Lord of Light, and he offered a timid smile to Alexander. “What can I do for you?”

  “Hold still,” Alexander replied.

  “Pardon?”

  Alexander commanded Rota’s tentacles to surge forward, wrapping around Tim’s neck and waist. He cast the most powerful truth spell he knew, coating it over Tim’s body from head to toe. He then pushed him up against the vaulted ceiling and held him there, calling out, “I need to ask you about the deaths of Eric Grimes, Lucy Myers, Brady… something…. Shit, what was it?”

  Tim screamed hysterically, kicking and swinging his arms as he tried to escape Rota’s hold.

  Brady Lincoln, Rota supplied.

  “Right. Brady Lincoln,” Alexander continued. “Baxter Yeun, Macy—”

  Lacie.

  “Lacie Briggs.” Alexander crossed his arms. “Know anything about them?”

  “Put me down, please!” Tim hollered. “Please, for the love of all that is touched by the Lord’s sacred light! I don’t know what you’re talking about! Please!”

  “What are you doing?” Ollie gasped in horror.

  “Finding out if he’s a killer or not?” Alexander frowned. “What do you think I’m doing?”

  “Why are you being so mean?”

  “Look.” Alexander swung Tim from one end of the church to the other, dragging him along the peak of the ceiling. “We need to know if he did it or not. I don’t have the time or patience to sit around and have a long in-depth interrogation, and I definitely don’t want to give him a chance to lie.”

  “Please, I pray the Lord of Light’s radiance washes over me and protects me from this fiend of the abyss,” Tim babbled above them. “I pray our Lord’s light finds him and purges the wicked ways in his heart!”

  “Yeah, fat chance of that,” Alexander mumbled. “So? Nothing? You don’t know anything?” He gave Tim a hard shake when he didn’t respond. “Hello!”

  “Oh, Lord… I… I don’t know!” Tim cried. “I-I prayed over Brady Lincoln at his funeral! His, his aunt is Lucian! A fine woman! She asked me to come. And, and I knew Eric from, from the bar!”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes! Please! I heard people talking about the deaths at the funeral! I didn’t even know Eric was dead until I worked the service! Same with Lucy!” Tim was calming down, as much as someone could who was being held forty feet in the air, and he took a deep breath. “I confess I did not know Baxter, but I did know Lacie. Are you telling me she is dead too?”

  The spell is not detecting any deception, Rota said. He appears to be telling the truth. There is some faint residue of that incense on his robes, however. Although, I must confess, it’s also all around us in the aisle.

  Great. That doesn’t help us at all. Alexander lowered Tim back down to the ground, but he did not release him. “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt them? Any of them?”

  “N-no.” Tim shook his head urgently. “They were all very kind. They would let me pray for them, and Eric even let me recite the Litany to him once.” He looked to Ollie. “Please, Ollie. You can’t think I had anything to do with this! You know I couldn’t hurt anyone. Never!”

  Ollie frowned. “I know, Tim. You’ve always been real super cool. But we found some stu-fahfah that kinda makes it seem like you did it. I mean, or like, somebody here at the church.”

  “Please help me!” Tim begged. “I-I don’t know who hurt those people! I cannot think of anyone who would! If I did, I swear I would tell the police at once!”

  Still quite truthful, Rota mused. I believe our friends from the bar were mistaken, and Ollie is right. The incense is hardly conclusive, and it could belong to anyone who came to this church or any other Lucian service in the city.

  Fuck. Alexander finally released Tim. “All right, thanks.”

  Tim nearly fell over, and he leaned against one of the pews to steady himself. “Wait, that’s it?”

  “Yes. You don’t know anything. And this has been a giant waste of time.”

  “We’re really, really, super sorry!” Ollie grimaced.

  “See!” Alexander whirled on Ollie. “That’s what I’m talking about. You said ‘sorry,’ not so-rahrah-ry. It’s ridiculous!”

  “But those are Rs,” Ollie argued indignantly. “You don’t say them that way, little dude!”

  “Are you sure? Like rea-lahlah-ly sure?”

  Ollie folded his arms and pouted. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “You… you just assaulted me!” Tim exclaimed, pointing at Alexander. “I should be calling the authorities—!”

  “Oh, right.” Alexander turned back to Tim and held out his hand, aiming a tentacle at Tim’s forehead. He bopped him hard, using the magic to reach into his mind and pull out the memories of their encounter. He curled his fingers into a fist, the tentacle withdrawing and crushing them. “There. Let’s go.”

  Tim was shaken, and he clumsily sat down in the pew. He looked around, clearly confused, and his face lit up again when he saw Ollie. “Ollie! Hey! How are you doing?”

  Alexander snorted, turned to leave, and marched to the door.

  “Uh, hey, Tim.” Ollie waved awkwardly. “I’m good. Hope you are. Good to see you! Gotta go, bye!” He ran to catch up with Alexander, hissing under his breath, “What did you guys do?”

  Alexander rolled his eyes as he walked outside. “What? Your magical starsight didn’t show you?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention. I was trying to look at your butt.”

  Alexander almost fell down the steps, and he had to throw out Rota’s tentacles on the railings to catch himself. “Excuse me?”

  The coat really is not flattering at all, Rota said. The pants, however, are quite nice.

  “You turned around to talk to Tim,” Ollie said with a shy grin, “and I’m super sorry, but I got destructed.”

  “Distracted?”

  “That too.”

  Alexander was immediately defensive, certain it was a cruel joke, but he could only sense a tender affection in the new bond that had formed between himself, Rota, and Ollie.

  And he didn’t know what to do with it.

  That big dopey smile of Ollie’s was not the least bit adorable, and there was absolutely nothing about the way Ollie looked at Alexander that made his heart race faster. The malapropisms weren’t endearing in the slightest, and he certainly didn’t want to hold his hand again or kiss that stupid smile right off his perfect face.

  Shit.

  “We’re leaving,” Alexander said quickly.

  Where are we going? Rota asked. We don’t have much to report if you’re thinking of seeing Stoker.

  “What about the crime scenes?” Ollie suggested. “I mean, it’s worth a peek, right? I could look around.”

 

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