Summoner of Storms (17 page)

Caleb once accused him of drinking the
Kool-Aid. At the time, he’d told himself Caleb just didn’t
understand. Even a government bureaucracy could do the right thing,
as long as good and decent people made up the bureaucracy.

No wonder Caleb thought him brainwashed. How
had he been so stupid? So naïve? Had he really believed SPECTR took
him in because they saw some good, some potential which escaped
even his own parents?

They’d just seen a gullible tool. Someone who
would spout the company line. A loyal little drone, so desperate
for a place to belong he’d do anything they wanted without
question.

John leaned his head against the window. The
AC unit directly underneath kicked on, blowing cold air into his
face. All those NHEs he’d exorcised over the years would fuel
something terrible, as if he’d helped refine the ore for a nuclear
bomb. All the lives he’d thought he’d saved would be in danger
again, this time from something far worse than the NHEs he’d put
down in the first place.

Why hadn’t the Goddess let him die, all those
years ago in the rehab facility, when he’d slipped a belt around
his neck and secured the other end to a showerhead? If Sekhmet was
the Devourer of Evil, if the drakul had contributed to the myths
surrounding Her, why hadn’t She struck him down before he added to
this horror?

Unless the hard goddess of the desert, the
burning Eye of Ra, cared only for the deaths of demons, and not for
those of humans. NHEs didn’t have human concerns; why should the
gods be any different?

Hell, maybe the Goddess didn’t even exist.
Gray had never seen the handiwork of a deity. Maybe it was all just
one more lie, a comforting tale to hold back the dark, to conceal
the fact nothing mattered and they were all doomed anyway.

“I’m going to opt out of this plan,” Caleb
said.

Startled out of his thoughts, John turned to
him. Tiffany and Sean did the same. Caleb looked unspeakably
strange at the moment, his long swirl of hair clashing with the
suit, the bullet holes and blood stains making everything seem even
more surreal. But he stood straight, and his hands didn’t
shake.

“What are you talking about?” Sean asked
wearily.

“You know, the plan where we all stand around
and just wait for Forsyth to kill us? I’m not signing up for it.”
Caleb spread his hands out as if pleading with them. “Look, we know
what Forsyth intends to do, and we know where and when it’s going
down. I think Tiffany needs to get on one of those disposable
phones of hers, call everyone she can. Then we’ll all go and kick
Forsyth’s fucking ass.”

“The Vigilant are gone,” Tiffany said, rising
to her feet. “We’re splintered. On the run. God only knows how many
of us Forsyth has captured, or who he’s made talk. The force we
took with us to RD to break Starkweather out? I can’t raise a fifth
as many people today.”

Caleb nodded once. “Fine. Maybe it will just
be the four—five—of us. Hell, maybe it will just be Gray and me if
it comes to that. But I’m not sitting here while Forsyth summons up
some poor drakul and goes bananas. If we have to, Gray and I will
eat every damn demon between him and us, and catch every fucking
bullet. But it would be a lot easier if we had some help. Who’s
in?”

It occurred to John maybe Sekhmet had laid
Her hand on him because out of everyone, he could fall in love with
a drakul. With Caleb, so beautiful with his chin lifted in
defiance, his brown eyes flashing fire, and under it all Gray’s
roiling energy and boundless confidence.

Not even two months ago, when he’d first
caught sight of Caleb on the bottom floor of the abandoned house,
Caleb had been scared and surly. Just wanting to hide and save his
own skin. Gray only wanted to hunt and eat, no thought to anything
else.

And now here they stood, challenging three
experienced agents to grow a pair and get the fucking job done.

Maybe SPECTR had betrayed its own principles.
But John didn’t have to. The organization might be rotten to the
core, might have never really believed in anything it preached.

John did. And it had to be enough.

“I’m with you,” he said. “No matter
what.”

Despite everything, Caleb’s mouth turned up
into a smile, and John swore lightning flashed in the depths of his
eyes. “Glad to hear it.”

“Ah, shit,” Sean muttered. “After today,
Forsyth is going to want my corpse one way or another. Might as
well go out in a blaze of glory.”

Tiffany shoved her chair back from the
computer. “Fine. Point made. I’ve got some phone calls I can still
make. I’m still
la capitaine,
after all, and Papillon would
be disappointed if I didn’t have any tricks left up my sleeve.
Maybe we’ll all die tomorrow anyway, but with any luck, we can at
least drag Forsyth screaming down to hell with us.”

An hour later, John sat on the king bed in
his and Caleb’s room. He felt shaky and strung out, emotions raw as
the enormity of what they faced hit home.

The sound of running water in the bathroom
shut off. A few minutes later, Caleb stepped out, his long hair
hanging damp from the shower. He wore nothing but one of the thin
hotel towels wrapped around his waist. Noticing John’s gaze on him,
he struck a flirtatious pose. “See something you like?”

“Yeah,” John said softly. Caleb did look
damned good right now, the soft glow of the lamp feathering across
his belly, calling up definition from slender muscles overlaying
long, graceful bones. The flat, pinkish-brown disks of his nipples,
startling against pale skin. Good enough to eat, but it was the
whole package John wanted.

“I was just thinking about the first time you
took a shower in my condo there in Charleston, after I brought you
home. You tried so hard to convince me you were a bad ass who
didn’t have any use for a Spec.”

Caleb’s grin turned rueful. “Shit, I ended up
crying my eyes out in that shower. Good thing I didn’t know what
really lay ahead of me, or I’d have had a total breakdown.”

“I didn’t realize.”

“I didn’t want you to. Trying to be a bad
ass, remember?” Caleb crossed the room and sat down on the bed by
him. “We can do this, John. I know we can.”

“And here I thought I was the walking,
talking motivational poster.”

“Yeah, well. Guess you’ve worn off on
me.”

Caleb leaned in and kissed him. The kiss
started soft, but John slid his arms around his lover, drawing him
closer. The bare skin of Caleb’s shoulders felt good beneath his
fingers, the wing of scapula and curve of vertebrae familiar now.
It seemed right, somehow, the way they fit together. John deepened
the kiss, the texture of their tongues sliding together, Caleb’s
breath quick against him. Static sparked in Caleb’s long hair,
etheric energy swirling at the edge of John’s awareness.

Caleb drew back, nipping John’s lower lip
lightly. “Chances are, we’re going to run into a lot of NHEs
tomorrow.”

Not really what John wanted to think about at
the moment. “I guess.”

“Some of them you might even be able to pull
out of the host,” Caleb went on, running his hands lightly up and
down John’s arms. “Maybe we ought to get you powered up.”

Ah, that’s why he’d brought it up. John
grinned. “I’m game.”

Oddly, though, Caleb hesitated. “Are you okay
with the blood thing?”

Gray hadn’t tasted John’s blood since the
first night he’d manifested during sex. John hadn’t brought it up,
assuming it just wasn’t something the drakul wanted to do all the
time. “Of course I am.”

“Not afraid we’ll go nuts and start attacking
people?” Caleb asked the question lightly, but he didn’t fool
John.

“Of course I’m not. We’ve already gone over
this. I trust you two.” John rested his hand against Caleb’s chest,
feeling the beat of his heart. “With my life.”

A low, wicked grin crept over Caleb’s face.
“Good. Because it’s like...mmm. Well. You’ll see.”

John arched a brow. “I will?”

“Mmm hmm. Because first you’re going to suck
off Gray. Then he’ll taste your blood, and I’ll fuck you.”

John’s dick pressed hard against the zipper
of his trousers. “Best mission prep ever,” he growled, and kissed
Caleb hard.

Suddenly he was kissing Gray, all lashing
hair and surging energy, like a thousand tiny tongues of
electricity against his skin. He ran his tongue over the fangs
abruptly present, finding the blood groove on the backs.

Gray tugged impatiently on his shirt. Having
already shed his coat and tie, John reached for the buttons. Gray
got there ahead of him, ripping the shirt open in a shower of
flying buttons.

The drakul growled, a low sound that sent
another surge of blood rushing straight to John’s cock. His lips
fastened around John’s nipple with just the slightest scrape of
fang. John groaned involuntarily, back curving to give better
access.

“Fuck.” He grasped Gray’s shoulders and
shoved him back.

Gray allowed John to push him down against
the bed. His lightning-touched eyes watched hungrily as John
hurriedly shed the rest of his clothes, then tugged the towel away
from Gray’s hips.

“You are beautiful,” Gray said
unexpectedly.

John paused. “Oh?”

“I do not have preferences as to the
appearance of mortals,” Gray explained. “And even what mortals find
preferable changes like the tide. But I find great beauty in your
form nonetheless.”

John grinned and moved to straddle Gray. “I
think it’s the best compliment anyone’s ever given me.” Also the
strangest and most awkward, but that was part and parcel of most of
his interactions with Gray. “Let me thank you for it.”

He wrapped his hands around Gray’s wrists,
pinning the drakul’s arms at his sides. Well, not really—John
didn’t have a hope of overcoming Gray’s strength if he wanted to
move. But Gray went along with the illusion.

John kissed Gray’s throat, then ran his
tongue along the curve of collarbone. The drakul’s scent of
petrichor and ozone, mingled with ancient incense, rose from his
skin and saturated John’s senses. His skin tasted faintly of the
cheap hotel soap. He let out a rumble, which almost sounded like a
purr, when John licked his nipples.

John took his time, working his way down,
biting and kissing as he went. Gray’s reactions weren’t the same as
Caleb’s, and John took his time memorizing them. Pale skin pebbled
under his mouth when he nipped Gray’s flank.

Releasing his grip on Gray’s wrists, he slid
all the way down to settle between the drakul’s legs. Gray’s cock
lay against his stomach, hard and leaking, flushed dark purple with
need. John encircled it with thumb and finger, just beneath the
crown, holding it out of the way to nuzzle Gray’s balls. He
breathed deeply, a curious mix of Caleb’s musk and Gray’s inhuman
scent, heady and inviting. He nibbled lightly on the wrinkled skin,
even as Gray’s hand settled on the back of his neck, the prick of
barely extended claws tantalizing against his skin.

Goddess, he loved this, every sense saturated
by his lover, including the sixth one no one would understand but
another exorcist. In a strange way, it reminded him of when he’d
finally admitted to himself he was gay. A feeling of rightness, of
falling into sync with something inside him. Something he never
would have felt if he hadn’t met Gray, or if Gray didn’t return his
desire.

He ran his tongue slowly up the length of
Gray’s cock, from base to crown. Precome beaded the tip, and he
sucked on it, tasting lightning and salt on his tongue. His own
dick begged for attention, but he ignored it for the moment.

A soft rumble escaped Gray when John slid all
the way down, taking his whole length so the head pushed against
John’s throat. The hand on his neck tightened slightly, although
not in an attempt to control. Sliding back up, John pulled off and
shot him a grin. “Like this, do you?”

“Yes.” Gray’s deep voice took on a husky
note. “Do it again, please.”

John repeated the action, before turning his
attention to sucking on the head and upper shaft, wrapping one hand
around the base and slowly stroking in time with his movements. He
used his other hand to play with Gray’s balls, tugging and
teasing.

Gray’s breath grew more ragged, claws flexing
against John’s neck, although never enough to break the skin. John
redoubled his efforts, closing his eyes to shut out everything
except for the taste and feel of the cock in his mouth. Moaning
with the pleasure of it.

Gray shuddered suddenly, the storm of etheric
energy around him flaring. John sucked harder, was rewarded with a
mouthful of bitter-salty semen and something else, something which
crackled on his tongue like he’d touched it to a battery. Hot and
wild, and he almost came against the sheets himself, a wash of
ecstasy along sensitized nerves.

He sat back, grinning with satisfaction, his
cock practically pointing at the ceiling. Gray looked utterly
glorious, sprawled against the sheets. For moment John wondered if
Caleb’s plan would actually get carried out, or if the drakul would
just roll over and go to sleep.

Then Gray sat up and cuddled against John,
arms sliding around his waist and drawing him in for a heated kiss.
“Let us taste you.”

The low growl of the words sent a jolt of
anticipation through John. To hell with whatever Tiffany or Renée
or anyone else thought: Gray wasn’t going to start sucking blood
from random people, any more than he would turn into a crazed
rapist just because he and John had fun in bed. Gray was a
predator; the whole blood thing was probably his equivalent of
licking chocolate off a lover’s skin.

John tilted his head to one side, offering
access to the base of his throat. Gray’s arms tightened slightly,
and his spent cock twitched against John’s abs. His lids were heavy
over inky black eyes, lips parted to just show the tips of his
fangs. One hand skated up John’s back, over the exposed skin of his
throat, before dipping down to just above his collarbone.