SAMMY FLIPPED on the light inside his front door as Lucien walked in like he owned the place, carrying a large package wrapped in silver and white. He set it on the small table by the kitchenette wall. “Do you really like the tea service?”
Hells, what’s not to like? Pure silver in an exquisite Danish design, all simple lines and elegant balance. Lucien had wanted something more traditional, but Sammy convinced him that Killian and Blaine were informal and eclectic. Elaborate curlicues weren’t going to cut it.
Lucien practically jumped up and down at his gift. “I have some wonderful sweets I’ve ordered from home, which I plan to present to the Witch Master along with the tea service. Since you’ve assured me he loves tea, I think these sweet biscuits will delight him and his husband.”
Sammy grinned. “I’m sure he’ll love it all.”
Lucien crossed to Sammy and took his hands. “And I hope you will plan to let me escort you to the party.”
Wow, it’d be cool arriving there not looking like the sorry, lonely slob. “Yes, I’d love that.”
Lucien caressed Sammy’s cheek and leaned in. Time to get some kissing on. Lucien had been so caught up in the gift buying, they’d barely held hands. The angel cupped both palms around Sammy’s face and gently pressed his cool lips right where Sammy most wanted them. Well, one of the places.
The kiss went from cool to hot in one second. Sammy opened wide, and Lucien explored the recesses of his mouth. Oh man, need sex so bad. He slipped his fingers into Lucien’s silken hair and pulled.
“Errrrrrrrr.”
Shut up, Aloysius! Shut up, you stupid cat.
Sammy rocked his hips madly, and Lucien grabbed his ass and pulled even tighter. Lucien ripped his mouth from Sammy’s. “You want something, witch? Let’s see if we can’t accommodate you.”
He picked Sammy up, which definitely required witchery, and carried him to the bed.
Aloysius hissed and flattened his ears.
“Shut up, Al.”
The cat jumped away, and Lucien laid Sammy on the bed, pulled off his shoes, and unfastened his jeans, then dragged them off in one movement. He kicked off his own shoes, unwrapped his sweater from his shoulders, and threw it on the chair. Then he dived. Onto the bed and onto Sammy’s cock. Oh sweet gods, finally!
“Samlyn, watch me.”
Sammy stared down his body. Erect cock pointed right at Lucien’s mouth.
Lucien’s pale eyes gleamed. “Watch me giving you what you want.”
Lucien never broke eye contact with Sammy as he ever so slowly licked the mushroom head. Somehow watching made it twice as sexy, and Sammy riveted his gaze on his dick as it disappeared into Lucien’s hot, wet hole. “Yes. So great. So great.”
Lucien began to suck deeply, still staring into Sammy’s eyes. Sammy wanted to keep his lids open, but the heat spreading like a lava flow through his body wouldn’t let him. His eyes closed, and his whole mind began to slide toward that spot where his energy poured out through his cock.
Wait, no fair. He’d gotten goodies twice. I have to repay him. Sammy began to wiggle his body until he got a hand on Lucien’s hip. He pushed until Lucien, still sucking, got the idea and flipped his body, allowing Sammy to maneuver over him with his cock pressed into Lucien’s mouth. Cool. Sammy could bob his hips and fuck Lucien’s mouth. That idea did it for him. Hells, better back off so as not to come until he could get his sixty-nine going.
Lucien tried to talk around Sammy’s cock. “Wha’ ah ya ’oing?”
“It’s too good. I don’t want to come until I can suck you too, okay?”
“Nah. Nah need.”
“But I want to.” He unfastened Lucien’s belt, undid the button, and slid his fly down. Then he pushed the pants and black briefs down Lucien’s legs.
Out it popped. Sammy gasped. Hells, shouldn’t have done that. He glanced down at Lucien, who appeared to be fixated on Sammy’s cock. Sammy didn’t want to make Lucien self-conscious, but what an odd dick. Long—really long—and slim. Uncut like he expected, but the foreskin actually flared like a sort of hood around the bright red head. Altogether it looked like a snake. Some kind of exotic cobra.
Maybe witches in Europe had cocks like this? Or maybe Lucien was embarrassed about it. He was awfully quiet right now, lying there, gently licking Sammy’s cockhead.
What would it taste like? Okay, swallowing the cobra cock feels weird. But I got into this, so I better go through with it. Tentatively he reached out his tongue and touched the head. Wow, strawberries. That was where the scent Sammy had smelled when they kissed came from. Like licking the top of shortcake. Sammy worked his tongue under that flared skin and smoothed it over the silky head. Lucien moaned. Good. Sammy closed his mouth over the hard, snaky rod. It felt strange but not bad, really. Just different. Like a flower in his mouth.
Sammy sucked harder and got a bigger moan. He also fell into the black hole of sucking as Lucien doubled his efforts. Holy gods. Sam’s cum boiled in his balls. The witch was not kidding. Sammy returned the favor and—holy shit, the flare seemed to get wider as he worked, filling his mouth. It almost gagged him, and he pulled away, but his balls didn’t care if he suffocated. All they wanted was to come like a fire hose. Lucien shoved Sammy’s cock deep into his throat. Oral sex must be one of his powers because, man, he was good. Heat screamed up Sammy’s spine. The first big squirt gathered to explode. Not going alone. He pulled his mouth back far enough to keep from running out of air and sucked that snake like a mongoose.
Lucien yelled around Sam’s cock, swallowed, and that was it. Fire! Sammy’s balls gave up their first load as a stream of hot strawberry juice hit the back of Sammy’s throat. But he could barely taste it because his whole brain rushed to the next big pump of cum that shot into Lucien’s mouth. And again. And again. When had he ever come so much?
He swallowed some more strawberry and felt the steaming track of it down his throat. It felt like it entered his bloodstream, and rivulets of fire crept through his whole body. Strange feeling. Not altogether pleasant. Sammy dropped his head against Lucien’s hip and breathed. Better shift his hips so he didn’t smother Lucien. He rolled to the side.
Lucien’s voice murmured from beside Sammy’s hip. “Gods, what did you do to me?”
Sammy laughed. “Same to you.” He closed his eyes. Someone let the sand out of his hourglass. Probably because he hadn’t had sex with anything but his hand for ages. Sex usually energized him, but this time—whipped. The taste of strawberry sizzled on his tongue, and little blazing trails seared through his limbs. “How do you do that strawberry thing?”
Lucien chuckled. “We all have our little powers.”
Best not mention the cobra between Lucien’s legs in case the guy was sensitive about it.
Slowly Lucien sat up. Sammy turned onto his back and gazed at Lucien’s beautiful face. Funny, Lucien had bright pink in his cheeks. Usually he was pale as an alabaster statue. “Have you been getting some sun?”
“Me?” He shook his head. “Not if I can avoid it. I’m positively an indoor animal. Why?”
“You look rosier is all.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “It must be the effect of having you in my life. Look what kind of circulation you improved.” He laughed his wind-chime sound.
“Must be it.” Sammy sat up. “Whoa.” He caught himself before he pitched off the side of the bed. “Dizzy.”
“All this sex too much for you, darling?”
Sammy raised his eyes to Lucien. “That’s a terrible thought.”
“Yes, for both of us. I was hoping to get access to your beautiful ass this evening.” Dimples popped into Lucien’s pink cheeks.
Man, that ought to sound good. But it didn’t. He shook his head. “Weirdly, I think I’m going to have to call it a night. I really feel drained.”
“Hmm. I’m so sorry. We’ll take a rain check, as you say.” Lucien got off the bed and pulled up his briefs and trousers.
“Yes.”
“Can I get you anything before I go? Tea, water?” He pulled the sweater around his shoulders.
“That’s okay. I’m sure I can get it.” Sammy slowly slid to the side of the bed and put his feet on the floor. His limbs actually felt heavy. Up. He stood; the room whirled for a second as he breathed, then seemed to stabilize. He looked up and smiled. Lucien had readjusted his clothes and appeared impeccable, as usual. Sammy grabbed his jeans and pulled them on commando. Going to the door bare-assed beside Mr. Fashion Plate? Not cool. He walked with Lucien to the door. Fortunately not a very long trip.
“Shall I give you tomorrow to rest?”
Right now that sounded good. “I have to work, but maybe I should go to bed early.”
“Can I see you Sunday? We could take in a film.”
“Great.” Sammy nodded, and the room spun again. Whew, get back to the bed.
Lucien kissed his cheek. “See you Sunday. Get lots of rest.”
“Will do.”
Sammy opened the door and watched Lucien go down the steps. He turned back and waved. Sammy waved. The second Lucien was out of sight, Sammy closed the door, flipped off the light by the door, and staggered back to the sleeping alcove. He ripped off his T-shirt, managed to get to the toilet to pee, and then fell into the bed. Gods, he didn’t remember ever paying such a price for great sex. Of course, he hadn’t had too much of it.
As he turned off the bedside light with the room spinning around his head, he felt silken fur slither up beside his shoulder. A rough tongue licked his arm and then his neck. Strange. Like every lick sent waves of energy into his brain. “Thanks, Al. That feels great.” He closed his eyes, and the spinning stopped, replaced by the vibration of a resonant purr.
DOWN BY the sidewalk, Lucien flipped open his phone, dialed, and listened while it rang.
“Hello.” Her voice was sleepy.
“Hello.”
“Oh, Lucien.” Breathless.
“What are you doing?” Certainly she’d been sleeping.
“Uh, nothing. I mean, do you want to come over?”
“That would be lovely. Can I be there in fifteen minutes?”
“Oh yes. Wonderful.”
“See you then.” He hung up. Smiling, he dialed again. “Hello, Bilden.”
“Lucien?” Breathless.
RYDER SIPPED his iced tea and tried to focus on the history of the Middle East. No use. He closed the book and looked up at the people milling around the food court. Why did I think the mall would distract me? I’m so damned uncomfortable—like my skin doesn’t fit. Of course, it practically didn’t. With all his changes, he had to reintroduce himself to his arms and legs. There would be more transformation, but hopefully he could finish the school year. Then he’d have to go.
He rested his cheek in his hand. This is so fucked. Don’t want to go. Yeah, well, people in hell want ice water. Everything I want feels impossible.
Ryder watched a couple of girls from the university walk by, laughing and sipping giant soft drinks. What was the fascination with beverages so large you could bathe in them? Two young guys, probably too young, like high school age, got up from their tables and followed the girls. Good luck with that, fellas.
Another guy wandered slowly across the walkway, past the food court. Ryder caught a glimpse of the side of his face. The really shy one who barely talked, with the odd name. Bilden. Right. Then Bilden turned, and Ryder saw him full-on. That same spacey, unfocused look he’d seen on Maybelle and a couple of the other girls. Too weird. Was there a drug epidemic?
He was on his feet before he realized he was moving. Shoving his book in his backpack, he walked quickly up behind the guy. “Hi, Bilden.”
The guy kept walking. Ryder gripped his shoulder. “Hi.”
Bilden stopped and for a second stared straight ahead, then slowly turned his face so he gazed at Ryder’s hand. Finally he looked up into Ryder’s eyes. “Do I know you?”
Ryder stuck out his hand. “Sure, Bilden. We go to school together. You’re in my History of American Democracy class. I’m the TA. Ryder. You know, Alvish, but I changed my name to Ryder. I guess I kind of changed a lot.”
“Yes. I see. Hi.” The guy didn’t seem to see much of anything.
“How are you doing?”
“Just wonderful, thank you.” He started to walk again, like Ryder wasn’t there.
Ryder caught up. “Hey, can I buy you a soda or iced tea or something? We can catch up.”
“I guess that’s okay.” The guy just stood there, so Ryder took his arm and led him to a table.
“Hang on, I’ll get some drinks. What would you like?”
Bilden shrugged.
Ryder hurried over to one of the food vendors and ordered two orange sodas. Not sure why orange, but what the hell. He paid and walked back to Bilden with the drinks. He hadn’t moved, but stared into space with a little smile on his lips. Ryder put down an orange soda in front of him, and he still didn’t even blink.
“Hope you like orange.”
Bilden glanced at the drink. “Oh yeah, thanks.”
“So what’s new?”
“Not much.” That smile again.
“How are you liking the class? Mr. Wempel’s pretty cool, huh?” He sipped his soda. Good God, what was I thinking? He put it down.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Okay, go for the jugular. “Have you met the new kid?”
“New?” Bilden’s brown eyes widened.
“You know, Lucien. The one who looks like an ice god.”
Bilden stared into space as if seeing a vision, and the small smile reappeared. “Yes, I know him. I’m his favorite.”
Ryder frowned. “His favorite what?”
For practically the first time, Bilden’s eyes seemed to focus on Ryder. “What? Nothing. I didn’t mean anything.”
“You two are friends?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“But you said you’re his favorite. Do you mean, like, boyfriend or something?”
“I didn’t mean anything. Thank you for the soda.” Bilden got up and walked quickly away from the table in the direction of the escalators.
Hell. That made two people who seemed obsessed with Lucien. Was Sammy taking Ryder’s advice? Was he being careful with Lucien? Oh man, have to get Sammy away from that creepy icicle.
His father’s voice rang in his ears. “Don’t get involved. You won’t be there long.”
That might be true. But he was already involved, and Sammy would live in his heart forever.
SAMMY BUTTONED up one of his three semigood shirts. If he were going to a show with anyone else, he’d wear a T-shirt. But with Lucien? He had to hope Lucien didn’t appear wearing a suit. Sammy took a deep breath. He’d slept a lot of yesterday. He’d called in sick to work and hardly left the bed. Even now he wasn’t totally energetic. You’d think it was his first orgasm. Of course, it had been a good one. Maybe next time he’d give Lucien access to his ass. He smiled. Oh yeah, this is the next time.
He fastened his jeans and grabbed a sweater in case the theater was cold. But he also had Aloysius to keep him warm. Man, the cat had been great yesterday. He’d licked Sammy and purred in his ear like a little motor, trying to restore Sammy’s energy. It worked. By nightfall, he’d been up and around and planning for today.
A tap on the door made him look up. Lucien was early? Odd. He was usually punctual to a fault and seemed to think arriving early was as rude as arriving late. Sammy skirted the edge of the bed and squeezed past his easel to get to the door. He opened it.
“Hi, Sam.”
“Hi, Ryder.” Whoa—more beautiful every day. Actually that wasn’t just a figure of speech. Literally, Ryder’s green eyes looked more brilliant than last time Sammy saw him, and his skin reflected the soft light from the lamp by the door. “I’m going out soon, but you want to come in?”
“Sure. Thanks.” Ryder walked into the small space. He’d been there before, but not often. They usually met at the coffee shop. Aloysius bounded across the room and rubbed against Ryder’s leg. Ryder leaned down, scratched him under the chin, and then picked the cat up and wrapped him around his neck. “Hi, guy. Good to see you.”
“Mwrar.”
Ryder glanced at Sammy. “So, you going out with Lucien?”
“Yes. To a show.”
Ryder nodded and walked to the easel. He smiled at a painting Sammy had been working on that suggested a black cat in a lightning storm. “Is this Aloysius?”
Sammy laughed. “Yeah. He sure does get under a guy’s skin.”
Ryder cocked his head. “You’re so talented.”
Gods, Sammy’s heart had to slow down or he’d pass out. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Ryder looked up with a soft expression. “You mean coming from a dumb historian who doesn’t know a palette knife from a fork?”
“No, I mean coming from you. My friend.”
“Don’t go out with Lucien, Sammy.”
What the fuck? “Why? Come on, Ryder. Sure, I don’t have a background check on him, but I probably know as much about him as I do you.”
Ryder looked at his feet. “Point taken.” The green eyes flashed up. “But I think he’s cheating on you.”
“What?”
Ryder walked over to the kitchen counter, picked up a glass, filled it from the faucet, and drank.
Sammy wanted to beat him over the head. “Come on. Tell me what you mean. Stop stalling.”
“I can’t prove it, but I’ve talked to a couple of people who seem to have a relationship with him and seem to think they’re somehow special to him.”
Sammy couldn’t catch his breath. “Well, we’re not exclusive or anything. I don’t have any claims on him.”
Ryder scratched Al, who was purring so loudly that Sammy could hear it clearly. “Is that true? Or has he implied that you’re his boyfriend?”
“Not exactly.”
“I think you deserve better, Sams. I think you can do better.”
Well, shit! Sammy threw up his hands. “That’s real easy to say when you have an unlimited supply of tits to drool over.” Sammy crossed his arms. Maybe they’d protect his heart. “I haven’t had a real boyfriend in over a year, and even that one wasn’t serious. I’m lonely, damn it. I want to be with someone, and Lucien is smart and funny and charming, and he seems to like me a lot.” He spread his arms wide. “Is that so unbelievable? That a gorgeous guy like that could actually go for a skinny scarecrow like me?” He could feel his ears getting hot, and hurt stored over years poured out of him. “Maybe that’s why you think he’s cheating. You can’t believe he could want me!”
Ryder stared at him, his eyes shiny. “That’s not true. I’d never feel that way. I think anyone with a brain would want you.”
“Then there must be a lot of dumb people!” Sammy’s breath came hard. Shit, he was attacking his best friend. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know you don’t think that.” He ran a hand through his hair. He probably really looked like that scarecrow now. “Look, he’s going to be here soon. I promise I’ll ask him. I will. Okay?”
Ryder frowned. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know. I don’t understand why, but I know you are. I’ll talk to him.”
“Okay.”
“You better go unless you want to ask him yourself.”
“No, I’ll go.” Ryder walked to the door and turned. He extricated Al from his neck and handed him to Sammy. “I care what happens to you. I care…. I wish…. Hell, be careful.” He opened the door and walked out, then closed the door behind him.
Sammy collapsed onto the couch, still holding Al against his chest, and threw his head back. “Why the fuck does this have to be so hard? Why can’t I just have a boyfriend?”
Okay, breathe. Who did he trust: Ryder or Lucien? Stupid question. He’d trust Ryder with his life. Lucien? Sammy wanted to believe him, but he had no reason to trust him or not. I don’t know him well enough yet. But why would Lucien go to the trouble of deceiving me? It made no sense. If Lucien wanted someone else, he just had to go get them. He had no obligation to Sammy and no reason to seek his good opinion. I’m a no-talent witch with red hair and too little meat on my bones. Lucien’s a powerful witch who looks like an angel. The only question is, why does Lucien want me at all?
Sammy set Al in his lap and leaned forward. Yes, that was the question. He’d been so caught up in the flattery of Lucien’s attention that he hadn’t made that all-important query. What did Lucien see in him? Seriously. He wasn’t being hard on himself, just realistic. So it was time to ask. He might not want to hear the answer. He liked Lucien, and he liked the idea of having him for a boyfriend, but he had to know the truth.
He glanced at his watch. Two o’clock. Lucien should be here. Sammy heard a knock on the door. Whew. He hadn’t had time to figure out how to handle this whole deal, how to broach the subject of cheating and boyfriends. He’d have to wing it.
It was hard to prepare for the impact of Lucien’s beauty. Sammy opened the door and felt his breath catch. Lucien beamed, and that smile made Sammy’s heart stutter. Lucien leaned forward and kissed Sammy on the cheek. “Ready? We’re right on time for the show. We can walk from here.”
No talking time now unless Sammy wanted to miss the show. “Okay.” He bent for Al to leap around his neck.
Lucien sounded impatient. “Does the cat have to go everywhere?”
“He goes wherever he wants, and I told you, he’s not a cat.” Lucien looked startled. Must have sounded sharp. “He’s attached to me. I have no idea why, but then I’m a bit in the dark on a lot of matters.”
Again Lucien looked surprised but didn’t pursue the opening. “Let’s go, or we’ll be late.”
They walked out of the old apartment building and into the afternoon sunlight. A quick five-minute dash brought them to the art film theater that Lucien favored. For two hours Sammy pretended to watch a bunch of people dissecting their dysfunctional family in French. He couldn’t concentrate. What should I say? When should I say it?
Finally the French ordeal ended, and they walked out into the twilight. Lucien smiled. “Did you enjoy it?”
Sammy sighed. Should he lie? “I don’t think I was in a French family mood. Maybe I should have suggested a testosterone-laden shoot-’em-up.” He grinned.
Lucien stared at him, then laughed. “I would likely have enjoyed it more. This was a bit dull, wasn’t it?”
“A bit.”
“Shall we get dinner?”
Sammy shook his head. “I’m kind of tired.” That was the truth. “I’d like to sit over on that bench in the park and talk for a couple of minutes.”
Lucien frowned. “Ah, this sounds sort of ominous.”
“Not really.” He took off across the street to the little pocket park and heard Lucien behind him. Sammy sat on the bench and adjusted Al so he was draped equally on both sides of his neck.
Lucien sat next to him. They were both quiet for a few uncomfortable minutes.
Okay. Do it. “Lucien, what do you want with me?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re a gorgeous, powerful witch who can have anyone. Why would you want me?” Sammy looked over at him, and Lucien’s pale eyes practically glowed in the dim light.
“I enjoy your company. You’re smart, attractive, and talented. A far greater painter than I will ever be. Perhaps I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”
Gods, the witch sure has a silver tongue. “So if it’s true that you enjoy my company, why do I hear you have other lovers all over town?”
A pause. “Who told you such a thing?”
“That doesn’t really matter. Is it true?”
“No.”
“Errrrrr.”
Sammy put a hand on the cat’s silky head. “Shut up, Al. So it’s not true?”
“No.” Lucien gazed down at his hands. “What I have observed is that I am unfamiliar with American interpersonal rituals. If I am gracious to someone, they seem to assume a greater interest than I have.”
“Have you been, uh, ‘gracious’ to a lot of witches?”
Lucien spread his hands in a gesture that looked like the French people in the movie. “Perhaps more than I realized.”
Sammy sighed. “I don’t have any claim on you whatsoever. I don’t even understand why you’re interested in me.” What the hells. He’d say it. “But here’s the deal. I enjoy our dates. You’re interesting and charming. But I’m not comfortable with a lot of casual intimacy. I know it’s old-school, but that’s how I was raised. I enjoy sex, but I want to have it with my boyfriend, not someone who’s being ‘gracious’ to the whole town.”
“We haven’t had sex.”
“Where I come from, my cock in your mouth and yours in mine is sex.”
“But—”
Sammy held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter. I have no control over you, but I get to say how I want my life. And that’s how I want it.” Am I crazy? “Anyway, thanks for the movie.” He started to get up.
Lucien grabbed his arm, and Aloysius growled. Lucien released him, but Sammy sat back down. Lucien frowned. “I don’t know why you think that I am having sex with a lot of people, but believe me, it’s not so. Some people may have misunderstood my interest in them, but the witch I am genuinely interested in is you. I hope you’ll let me demonstrate that to you.”
“How?”
“Well, I’d most like to come home with you and make love to you all night.”
Hang on. Was the guy only interested in the sex? “No way. I—”
“But I understand that is not, how do you say, in the cards. So allow me to woo you. I shall make my position absolutely clear to anyone who doesn’t understand it. I am your boyfriend—if you will have me. And no one else is in the picture. I shall wine and dine you, and, of course, I shall make my intentions clear to the community by escorting you to the Witch Master’s party next weekend. Does that suit?”
“You don’t have to—”
Lucien pressed a finger against Sammy’s lips. “Come, come. Do not equivocate. You have stated your desires, and I have met them. Be gracious in victory.” Lucien’s white teeth flashed straight into Sammy’s heart.
He smiled. “Okay. Thank you. That sounds great.”
“I would still love to have sex with you all night….”
Sammy frowned.
“But we shall make that the icing on the cake of our romance.”
“Yes.” Maybe.
“So now I shall walk you home while stopping to get carryout so that you have something to eat while you are resting.”
Yep, the witch was sweet.
SHADOWED IN an alley across the street, Ryder watched the beautiful man come out of Sammy’s apartment. He sure didn’t look upset. Quite the contrary. He looked like a cat with a canary in its paws.
The guy pulled out his cell phone, dialed, and then looked up like maybe he suspected someone was there. Ryder pressed himself against the dirty brick wall. Lucien put the cell to his ear and spoke, smiled, returned the phone to his pocket, and walked away.
Ryder slipped out of his spot and followed, staying close to the buildings on the other side of the street. Damn, I’m not too inconspicuous anymore. Lucien moved straight down the sidewalk with purpose and turned into an alley between buildings. Ryder hurried.
He moved across the street from the alley and kept walking past, only glancing into it. It looked like several people were down there. He ran across the street and doubled back. When he got near the alley, he slowed and crept up to peek around the corner. Damn, was that Maybelle? And Bilden? Another young woman and a guy who looked familiar also clustered in the middle of the dirty alley. But the person who wasn’t there was Lucien. The alley was short and apparently a dead end, but Lucien had vanished. What the hell?
Ryder wanted to listen, to catch some hint of their reason for being there, but the small group wasn’t talking. They stood there, looking at their feet. He backed away, turned, and ran to the end of the street and around the corner. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Yes, Ryder.”
“There’s something seriously wrong here. The new one I told you about. He’s not what he seems. There may be danger.”
“How are you?”
“I’m good. Holding up.”
“You can continue to observe?”
“Yes, but what if more is required?”
“That is unlikely. They must work out their own problems.”
“But—”
“You know what to do and not to do.”
Ryder sighed. “Yes, sir.”
The phone went dead. Was there danger? If so, he couldn’t identify it. A bunch of students standing in an alley with a missing leader did not a conspiracy make. I’m working on hunches. No proof. Sammy’d never listen to a hunch. Ryder needed some proof that this angel was a devil. Where the hell am I going to get that?