Chapter Two

Trey had never been in Harry’s private quarters before. While plenty of gatherings had occurred in Alex’s suite, this part of the family’s living space had always been off limits. He wasn’t surprised to find that it was tastefully appointed with what appeared to be very expensive furnishings and trappings. A few accent pieces from Asian cultures caught his eye as he followed Harry into the living room. He wasn’t sure what Lucien’s background was, but he imagined the pair had traveled quite a lot in their years together. From what he could tell, the Stelalux clan had frequently moved around.

Unsurprisingly, Lucien was waiting for them. He sat demurely at the far end of a sofa with a chubby baby in his arms. The kid was sucking noisily on a bottle. This was Dracul’s son, Idris, and he was way bigger than he’d been when Trey had cradled him in his own arms right after birth.

“Jesus, the kid’s growing like a weed.” The observation was out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

Lucien gave him an indulgent smile. “Yes, he’ll grow significantly in the first two years, then slow down for many decades afterward. At least, he will if Demi is any indication of hybrid physiology.”

The reminder of Trey’s romantic and sexual obsession brought his worry back. This wasn’t a social call. Of that, he could be sure. Still, he kept up the pretense of chit-chat as he took a seat in a nearby chair.

“Is Dafydd taking any interest in him yet?”

Dracul’s former sex slave was living here in Boston, instead of back with Malcolm. It had been decided that the Highlander and his lover, Brenin, had enough on their hands rehabilitating the other Dracul captives. They didn’t need the added burden of dealing with the clearly traumatized and potentially suicidal Welshman.

Lucien shook his head. “No. He stays in his own room and refuses to see his son.”

Harry sat next to his husband and ran a hand down the baby’s head. “At least Dafydd has fully recovered from the surgery and eats properly. I no longer worry about him wasting away.” The doctor eyed Trey. “He owes his life to you.”

Trey furrowed his brows. “Not really. You did all the work and Demi kept him alive with his blood.” The reminder of that night still caused his guts to tighten. It had been a risky procedure all around.

“True, but I don’t believe Demi could have spared so much blood without feeding off you. I would have stopped the transfusion and let Dafydd bleed out before allowing Demi to die. So, by logical deduction, you saved the man. He might even one day thank you for it.”

“I doubt it, and it’s not necessary in any event. I’m a cop. I did what had to be done.” While talking about the Wales adventure—especially as some heroic effort on his part—made him uncomfortable, it was putting off whatever tongue lashing he was in for. He was fine with that delay.

“For Demi, yes?” Lucien asked. He kept his gaze on Trey while pulling the empty bottle out of the baby’s mouth and hoisting him against his shoulder. “You care for our son.”

Trey had to work at not squirming. He was a grown-ass man, not a middle school kid sitting in front of the vice principal, for God’s sake. He didn’t give in to the urge to brush off the assumption about his feelings, either.

“Yes, I do.” He kept his answer simple. There was no point in elaborating anyway, given that he was hard put to understand the complexity of his feelings toward Demi himself.

Harry shared a veiled look with his husband before saying, “We knew it already, naturally, after what has transpired. But, decorum required that we confirm it with you before we proceed with asking for a favor.”

Now, Trey was more intrigued than worried. Gripping the chair’s arms, he leaned forward a little. “What kind?”

The men didn’t answer right away. As he patted the baby’s back, Lucien stared at his husband for a few seconds before nodding. “I must put Idris down for the night. Harry will explain.”

With that, Lucien stood and walked out of the room. Harry’s gaze followed his husband’s journey until he was out of sight. Even from an angle, Trey could see the utter love and devotion the alien had for his human partner.

Harry slowly shifted his attention toward Trey. “He is and always will be the most exquisite man I have ever seen. My dear, sweet Lucien,” he added with a rueful smile. “He brings out the most protective instincts in me, and yet has the power to fell me with a single, disapproving look.”

Trey said nothing. He didn’t know what to say in response, although he kind of understood what the guy meant. Although he’d fought his feelings from the beginning, Demi had a similar effect on him.

“Would you like a drink?”

The question surprised Trey. “Ah, sure, whatever you’ve got is fine.”

Harry stood. “I have some of Malcolm’s most excellent Scotch.”

“Perfect. I’ll take mine neat. Thanks.”

There was a small bar set up on a sideboard across the room. Harry went there, poured a couple of stiff drinks and brought them back. “Lucien is trusting me to discuss this delicate matter about our son with you man-to-man.”

Trey took the glass being offered. “Okay.”

Harry smiled as he sat. “Please don’t be alarmed. I’m not going to threaten your life or anything.”

“Glad to hear it.” Trey took a healthy swig of his Scotch. Damn, it was smooth.

“Lucien was painfully young when I found him. He was perhaps fifteen by human years, although he wasn’t sure himself of his exact age.” The man sipped his drink. “He’d been sold as a very young boy by his father to a warlord to whom he owed money. Lucien’s life became a blur of sexual servitude to men with no conscience. The last thing I wanted to do was exploit him further.

“But he surprised me. He was naturally submissive, yet had a will of steel. He wore me down with his devotion and determination. Eventually, I succumbed to his charms and my own weakness. I made him my lover, then my source of blood and eventually the carrier of my son. I’ve never fully let go of my guilt over it.”

“Given that it produced Demi, I can’t blame you for your choices. And,” Trey added with a sigh, “I’m hardly one to cast stones.”

“Because you believe Demi is too young.”

Trey snorted. “I know it.”

“How old do you think he is?”

Trey waved with his arms. “I don’t know, sixteen, seventeen?”

“He’s one hundred and five.”

In the midst of taking a slug of his Scotch, Trey choked on the information. “Jesus,” he wheezed, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by that. I’m not sure it matters, regardless. It’s more than the number of years that have passed. It’s about mental and emotional maturity.”

“True, except that you judge him by human standards.” He clammed up for a few long seconds, as if gauging what to say next. “Lucien remarked that Idris will grow quickly at first. And that’s true. By the time he’s technically two, he’ll appear more like six or seven. Then he’ll seem to stay in that young state for many years to come. Another growth spurt will give him the appearance of a young teenager. Again, he’ll plateau at that level for decades. At least, that is how it was with Demi and with the other hybrids I’ve had a chance to monitor.”

The man got up to fetch the bottle of Scotch. He brought it back with him this time and topped off Trey’s glass along with his own before putting it down on the coffee table.

“As strange as this is for humans, it’s more so for our species.” He sat heavily, obviously struggling to deal with whatever was going on. “Our growth is very long and mostly even. By our standards, the hybrids mature very quickly in all respects.”

Trey drank half his glass before responding. This was an even weirder conversation than he’d expected, and where it was heading wasn’t clear in the least. “Right… I get that. He’s old and young at the same time. But, that’s all physical, right? Demi acts like a kid, no matter how long he’s been alive.”

Even as he said that, however, he realized that wasn’t entirely true. Demi’s behavior had changed since they’d first met. He was maturing.

“By your estimation, perhaps, although his mental growth has also occurred in fits and starts. All of which is beside the point, unfortunately.”

“How so?” The question came out more sharply than he’d intended. Something in Harry’s tone was worrisome.

“Demi has entered puberty, for lack of any better word to use.”

“Well, yeah, he’s obviously a teenager, not a little boy.”

Harry shook his head. “No, that’s why the word is inadequate. For you humans, there is a many-year process of transforming from childhood into adulthood. Sexual maturity is part of that, where biology readies their bodies for reproduction before they are truly capable of such responsibility. For our species, it’s a far quicker process, a matter of Earth months rather than years.”

No longer interested in his drink, Trey leaned over to put his glass down and concentrate on what Harry was saying. “I’m not following.”

“I’m sorry. I know this is difficult. You see, up until a few months ago, Demi was physically, by my species’ standard, a child. Then he started puberty, which meant that he could get erect and achieve orgasm for the first time, just like with humans.”

Trey couldn’t help wincing. Wow. This was so not the conversation he wanted to have with Demi’s father. It was more painful than when his own had given him ‘the talk’ after he’d turned thirteen and was soiling his sheets with wet dreams.

Mercifully, Harry plunged on without requiring any response. “He also had the classic symptoms of overheating, clumsiness and tremendous blood lust. I’d started him on daily bags a few weeks before we left for Wales, whereas he’d only needed the occasional drink before. Yours was the first direct feeding he’d ever had,” he added with a pointed look in Trey’s direction.

He’d known that, but hearing it again gave him a weird sense of pride—and possessiveness. As he instinctively rubbed at the spot inside his wrist, he had the instant thought that he didn’t want Demi to feed off anyone else, which was dumb. He had no claim on the boy.

You’re fooling yourself.

He closed his eyes on that painful truth. “Can you please cut to the chase here, Harry?”

“Certainly. I’m sorry, but the bottom line is that Demi needs his manhood initiation.”

Trey popped his eyes open. “Huh?”

“I wish there were a better way to put it in English—or any Earth language. There isn’t. It’s such a beautiful word in my own tongue, although your ears wouldn’t think it so. It simply means that he needs to lose his virginity—and soon.”

Now all the spit dried in Trey’s mouth. He emptied his glass in a futile effort to wet it again. “Needs?” That was the only word he could croak out before grabbing the Scotch and pouring another stiff drink.

“Yes. I mean that in the real sense of the word. It’s not hyperbole. On my world, when a boy matures into a drone, he’s given to whichever queen directly governs his family to be initiated into mating. For some, such as Alex, that meant the High Queen, a singular honor. But regardless, the queen shows him what it means to be intimate with another, and from that point forward, the drone can be sexually active with either gender.”

Hot jealousy stabbed at his heart. “You mean he has to sleep with a woman?”

Harry gave him a wan smile. “Ideally. That would be the obvious way to handle matters, but who would that be? Someone willing, that goes without saying. We would never force our ways, including blood-drinking, on a human. That was Dracul’s habit, never ours. Kitty is the only one we could even ask. Given Logan’s struggle with her own demons, we would never impose on her.”

Trey flashed on the image of the bartender with his precious Demi. The fury he felt scared him. It was a stupid reaction. Kitty could be trusted in all things, except… “What does Demi say?”

“Nothing. We haven’t spoken to him yet.”

Trey turned a sharp eye on the man. “Why not? This is his life, his body. He gets to decide.”

Harry sighed. “I agree, of course. I do, as does Lucien. We must protect him, though, and we don’t want to raise his hopes only to have them dashed.”

“Meaning?”

“Regardless of whether Kitty would be willing to help, Demi wouldn’t want her—or any woman, for that matter. He has only ever showed an affinity for his own sex—and for you in particular. Simply put, he has a massive crush on you.”

Trey felt his cheeks warm. “Yeah, well, I kind of feel the same way about him.”

“Exactly. That’s why Lucien and I are asking you if you will do us the honor of initiating our son into manhood.”

On an expulsion of breath, Trey flopped back in his chair. He crossed his legs to hide how quickly and violently he’d reacted to the idea of bedding Demi. “Jesus,” was all he managed to say.

“We understand we are asking a great deal of you. By your view, Demi is young and humans largely take this issue of sexual initiation almost as seriously as my species does. We wouldn’t ask if it weren’t so critical that Demi be deflowered as soon as possible.”

Trey rubbed his forehead at a growing headache. “Why? What’s the hurry, exactly?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He stared for long seconds at his drink. “This is not a thing that is delayed. There is no reason to on my world. I’ve never known a hybrid to go through an extended period of puberty, so I don’t know the effect. I only know that its symptoms will continue to plague Demi and prolonging them may lead to a permanent damage I can only guess at.”

Trey’s physical pain vanished. He sat forward again. “What kind? Is he at risk of real harm?”

“Yes, he is.” This came from Lucien, who had quietly re-entered the room.

Harry stood in courtly fashion to escort his husband back to the sofa. They sat with their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle, a unified front in all respects.

“How so?” Trey didn’t even care that he was barking out questions as if he had a right to know everything.

“I can’t say, precisely,” Harry admitted. “I only know that he’s suffering and we won’t take any chances with him. As much as we would like to keep him our little boy longer, this is out of our control. He must take this step, and we are asking you to gift him with your body. It’s a tremendous request. We understand that.”

Trey waved that concern away. “No, it’s not. I was prepared to sacrifice my life for him. This, whatever it ends up being, is nothing.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What do you need me to do?”

“Allow Demi to…” Harry didn’t get a chance to come up with the right words.

Lucien jumped in. “Penetrate you.”

Trey’s hole clenched at the stark words. He hadn’t bottomed since his late teens when he’d been experimenting with what it meant to him to be gay. Given his natural dominant inclination, he’d learned early that he was a top all the way. But this was Demi’s health and possibly life at stake.

“Okay, fine. Where and when?” He wasn’t one to dither over things. Besides, in all honesty, being ‘forced’ into making love to Demi was what he wanted anyway.

Harry and Lucien traded looks. Apparently, they hadn’t expected him to be sold on the idea so easily. That only meant they hadn’t been paying attention as much as they thought they had. Once Demi had literally sunk his teeth into him, he’d claimed Trey in a way that was undeniable and irresistible.

“Well,” Harry finally said, “there is a ceremony of sorts. I’ll need to speak with Alex about how we might recreate it with a human twist.” He licked his lower lip. “It might not matter to Demi, but it will to me. In this, I want to be selfish.”

Trey frowned, a frisson of concern creeping in despite his determination. “You don’t mean like a wedding, do you? Demi is definitely too young to be making that kind of decision right now, especially if his hormones are clouding his judgment.”

“No.” Lucien was quick to reassure him. “It’s purely about sex, and we agree with you on the marriage part.” He lowered his gaze demurely. “Although having once been Demi’s age and in love, I disagree with you and my husband as to whether Demi knows his own mind on this.”

He raised his eyes again to stare directly at Trey. “Demi loves you, has since the first moment he saw you, just like I fell instantly in love with Harry. I knew that despite how men had exploited and abused me my whole life, that he was different. I wanted to be with him forever, and I haven’t had a moment of regret.”

“My love,” Harry said softly before lifting one of Lucien’s hands and kissing the inside of the wrist.

It was an act of aching tenderness that made Trey long for a connection just like it—with Demi. No, he’s too young. And Demi was a twenty-first-century young man with a vast array of choices in life waiting for him. He didn’t need to be tied down to a cop careening into middle age. Sex was one thing. A permanent commitment was something out of the question.

He fisted his hands. “I’ll do whatever you want to make this experience special for Demi, so long as it’s understood that he’s free to make whatever decisions he wants before, during and after.”

“Agreed,” the boy’s fathers said in unison.

“Okay then, let’s roll.” Even as he gave the green light, he wondered what exactly he was getting himself into.

Probably something that would break his heart in the end.

 

* * * *

 

“Thanks for helping me, guys. I appreciate it.” Damien, Emil’s sous chef, steered Emil’s SUV through the narrow streets of Boston, avoiding the few joggers who seemed to think that because it was early Sunday morning, it meant crossing streets without watching for traffic.

“Sure,” Jase replied. “I’ve been meaning to get more involved with the food bank. I want to give back to the community, and all this uneaten food would go to waste if we didn’t donate it.”

From where he sat in the back seat, Demi chimed in. “And, I’m just glad to get out, no matter where I’m going.”

He almost added more about how happy he was about his lockdown period being over. But then he remembered that Damien wasn’t privy to his family’s true nature or knew anything about the war with Dracul. Jase, who sat directly in front of him, stiffened a moment before relaxing again when Demi said nothing more.

Damien flashed his gaze at him through the rearview mirror. “You’re ‘rents are super protective of you, huh?”

It took Demi a second to understand the question. He smiled. “Yeah, my two dads think I’m made out of glass and totally stupid into the bargain. I’m lucky they figure you and Jase make for good chaperones.”

Damien chuckled and said nothing more about it. Demi was glad and also not surprised. While he barely knew the sous chef, he found the guy to be pretty likeable and totally devoted to Emil. The fact that he was also dedicated to helping a soup kitchen targeting mostly homeless teens was also a point in his favor. Demi knew that the boy had been living on the streets for a while himself before Emil had given him a job. Emil was like that—always taking in strays and helping out humans. Demi liked that about him and figured tagging along this morning would be the next step in his own education for becoming a doctor.

“This should only take about an hour.” Damien turned a corner and pulled into an alley between a small stone church and another building. “Father Ted usually has a couple of boys with him to help unload. I like to get the warming trays set up for him, too. After that, more volunteers come in to serve. I promise you’ll be home and in bed soon. I know how tired you both must be after staying up all night.”

Jase let out a loud yawn. “I can’t deny sleeping is high on my list of things to do right now.”

“I’m fine,” Demi countered.

It was the truth. He didn’t need the amount of sleep most humans did, and he preferred doing it during the day. Besides, he was so excited about what his fathers had told him a few hours before, he still was too wired to sleep.

Trey is going to make me his.

The news had been shocking. He could almost believe it was merely some fever dream he’d had. But he wasn’t prone to flights of fancy—only dramatic, desperate hope. He’d wanted Trey Duncan since the first time he’d seen the man. What had started as a childish infatuation had matured into a relentless need, one that seemed impossible to obtain. And yet, his fathers had sat him down after Papa had come to fetch him from the dressing room and they’d told him the plan.

Trey was going to fuck him. That was the bottom line, no pun intended, although he giggled inwardly every time he thought it. The sexy cop was going to pop Demi’s cherry, and hearing it had caused his dick to harden right in front of his parents. He had been so overwhelmed with joy that he hadn’t even cared if they could see his arousal. His desire for the man was officially sanctioned by the powers-that-be. He didn’t have to hide a thing now.

Of course, Papa had stressed how this was not some prurient event. There was going to be a formal ceremony and everything, where they gave him into Trey’s care with all the solemnity their alien culture demanded. It wasn’t about pleasure. It was a matter of health. Demi needed to be initiated into sexual activity the way he would have been on Papa’s home world. It would alleviate the physical discomfort he’d been experiencing for months. He wasn’t about to treat this whole thing like some wild sex ride. They were making do with what they had, taking into account Demi’s wants, too, naturally. And wasn’t it kind of Sergeant Duncan to willingly help the same as he’d done by giving Demi his vein back in Wales?

Blah, blah, blah.

Demi had nodded in agreement with every lecturing word, all the while bouncing with glee on the inside. When they’d finally let him go, he’d raced to his shower and jerked off for about the millionth time. On this occasion, unlike all the others, his fantasy was a vision of what was to actually come. More than anything else, Trey’s agreement to do this was proof that despite his insistence to the contrary, the man wanted Demi, maybe as much as Demi wanted him. It didn’t matter. Demi’s love would be enough to carry them both. He had a lifetime to make Trey happy.

Oddly, knowing what was to happen soon had already made him feel better. As he waited for Damien to park the SUV at the end of the alley, he felt calmer and more at ease with his body than he had in a long time. He looked forward to unpacking the food and helping to set up. The mundane activity, coupled with the good feeling of helping others, wouldn’t have been something he would have been up for less than a year ago. Things had changed.

He had changed.

He hopped out of the vehicle feeling more lighthearted than he could ever remember and followed Damien and Jase around to the back. It was packed with all the uneaten food from the celebratory reopening of the club, plus a few staples to stock the soup kitchen. Emil was a soft touch, always had been since Demi had known him. Helping humans, especially by feeding them, had been the man’s greatest passion before Jase had come into his life. Besides, the family had more money than God—or so said Papa. They could all afford to be charitable.

Damien hefted out a large open crate and handed it over to Demi’s waiting arms. Although the sous chef didn’t know about his hybrid nature, he had learned that he was stronger than he looked. Damien pulled out another of the same size and carried it over to the door in front of the SUV. Jase followed with a couple of lighter-weight bags, and Demi brought up the rear. He glanced around, not having been there before. It was a typical Boston alley, except it was fairly clean. Damien had said the boys whom the priest ministered to were always lending a hand to keep the church and its surrounding areas in good shape.

Given the early hour, there was no one around and the city sounds were muted. Demi supposed that most of the people the charity catered to had spent most of the night out, partying or panhandling. This wasn’t somewhere for families or a shelter for overnight stays. Those that would come looking for breakfast were still somewhere else, sleeping the night off.

Bracing the crate against the wall and on top of his knee, Damien fiddled with the doorknob. He pushed the door open and gestured for Jase and Demi to go ahead. The inside was dark and cool, musty smelling the way old buildings often were. He stepped to one side to let Damien pass and show the way. Jase did the same thing. As they followed the chef down the corridor, Demi became vaguely aware of another scent. By the time he realized what it was, they’d already entered a stark basement room.

His feet tripped along with his heartbeat. “Wait,” he called out, but it was too late.

Damien uttered a short cry and dropped his crate. Demi emptied his own arms just as quickly and pushed past Jase to grab Damien’s arm. He didn’t even consider how fast he’d moved. Damien was too busy gaping at the horror in the far corner and making a beeline for it. Damien wrapped his fingers around the boy’s biceps and tugged him to a halt.

“Don’t. He’s dead and we can’t contaminate the crime scene.” He felt stupid saying the words, like some kind of terrible TV-show character.

There was no denying not only that the priest was dead, but that he’d been murdered. There was no sound of a beating heart or blood rushing through veins. He could tell from across the room that was the case, his hearing being almost as keen as his papa’s. The humans wouldn’t be able to tell, however. That, plus shock and overwhelming emotion, explained why Damien fought his hold.

“Father Ted!” Damien screamed and struggled to get free. “Let me go to him.”

Jase came to join them, taking Damien’s other arm and flashing a wide-eyed look at Demi. “Damien, stop. Please. Demi’s right. There’s nothing to do except call the police.”

“Trey.” Demi said the name with a breathless voice. Letting go the second Damien’s movements slowed and pulling out his phone, he pressed the one number still on his favorites app and listened to it ring with growing concern.

“Demi?” Trey’s tone was both sleepy and sharp. “Is something wrong?”

The sound of the man’s voice was instantly calming. “Yes,” he replied in a weaker voice than he’d intended.

“What?” Now Trey spoke with that sure and commanding tone that Demi loved.

It calmed him even more. “I’m at the soup kitchen that Damien brings food to and, um, the priest who runs it? He’s dead. Killed.”

“How do you know that?” There was rustling, and Demi could picture Trey getting out of bed and wrestling with his clothing.

Demi shifted his gaze over toward the body. “There’s blood everywhere.”

The priest was sprawled on his back, arms spread wide. His throat was slashed from ear-to-ear. A chair was turned over nearby and a pot of some kind of stew had spilled by the man’s feet.

“Okay. Don’t go near the body.”

“I won’t. We won’t. I stopped Damien and he’s sitting on the floor with Jase a few feet away from the door.” He had to look away from the priest and focused on the other two boys. While blood was a central part of Demi’s life now, seeing it spilled through a violent act made him queasy. He couldn’t stand looking at it anymore.

“Good, that’s good. Give me the address.”

The minor praise made him feel better. He gave Trey the information and focused on the sound of the man getting ready. The simple rhythm of his breathing was somehow soothing. Trey kept him on the line, too, as he left his house and got into his car. He asked Demi for details about when they’d arrived and what exactly there were doing. Was anyone else there? Those mundane questions aided in Demi regaining his sense of peace.

“Okay, put me on hold and call nine one one. Let them know that a homicide detective is on his way. I’m going to do the same with you and call Karl in. You with me on that, babe?”

Demi was so thrilled at the casual endearment, he almost didn’t respond. “Yes, got it. Back in a sec.” He did as Trey said, glad to have a task, and stilled, feeling centered now that Trey was literally on the case.

He walked back down the hall and out to the alley to meet everyone and lead them to the right place. Trey came back on the line and kept up a steady, casual banter while Demi waited for him. Even though there was no one about, he didn’t feel alone with Trey on the phone. By the time the emergency vehicles arrived, Trey was also pulling up. The sight of him getting out of his car gave Demi a shiver of pleasure. When Trey fixed his gaze on him, Demi couldn’t resist running to his side. They hung up a moment before Demi launched himself at him.

Trey absorbed the blow with the same rock-solid control that he’d done in Wales. And as he’d done then, he briefly hugged Demi to him before setting him aside.

“Are you all right?” The man pierced Demi with concerned eyes.

Demi nodded. “I’m fine. Really. Whatever happened, it was over before we got here.”

Trey nodded once. “Good. Now, I’m sorry, but I have to be professional here. I can’t treat you like I…” His lips formed a thin line.

“Have affection for me?” Demi offered with a coy and hopeful smile. He didn’t know what kind of label Trey wanted to put on their relationship before the deflowering ceremony.

“Right. That.”

“I understand.” He was determined to show how much he’d matured. He no longer wanted to act the brat. And his future was heading exactly where he wanted it—right into Trey’s arms and life. Demi needed to adjust to the idea of being with a cop and supporting his man’s career.

“What do you want me and the others to do?”

Trey hitched up his pants as he eyed the EMTs entering the building. “Go into the church proper, if you can. We’ll need a clear area to handle the crime scene, and we’ll come interview each of you when we have time.”

Demi nodded. “Okay, we’ll do that. I’m sure Damien knows the layout of the building and will find a spot for us to wait.”

“He knew the victim, right?”

Demi nodded again. “Father Ted, yes. He does outreach work with LBGTQ homeless kids, including this soup kitchen. I think he was a big influence on Damien before Emil gave him a break.”

“Got it.” He offered a quick smile that sent a little zing racing through him. He could picture getting that smile every day. “Off then, you.”

“Right.” Demi had a strong urge to hug the man again or blow him a kiss. He didn’t. Maturity was the watchword of the day and he was determined to abide by it. He also tried not to feel happy about how some poor human’s death had given him this unexpected chance to see his man.

It was impossible not to feel that way, so he didn’t try. Instead, he did as he’d been told, returning to the back door of the church with the sensation of Trey’s gaze on him.