Department 57: Rubies of Fire (21 page)

“It feels like I’ve been here a fuck of a lot longer than a day.” Fabrice gulped down the water and flopped back down again before Andreas had a chance to fluff his pillows. “Is sex usually this exhausting?”

Shock lanced through Andreas when he realized he didn’t have to talk about it at all or tell Fabrice anything the ex-Sorcerer didn’t know already.

Fabrice stared at his face and then smiled. “I knew as soon as I woke up. There’s something missing, and I have weird memories. That kid, Jenna Brice. She raped me, didn’t she?”

Andreas swallowed. How like his friend to face the problem head-on. “Yes.”

Fabrice had been a powerful virgin Sorcerer, rare and special, even among his kind. When Fabrice had taken the choice to remain a virgin, he had to learn not to orgasm. After maturity, anytime between eighteen and twenty-one, the Sorcerer’s course was set, his body recognizing the choice. Subsequently, if he lost his virginity involuntarily, he lost all his Talents too. If the virgin Sorcerer chose to make love to someone, he stood a chance of regaining at least some of his Talents, though even that wasn’t certain. But Fabrice had been raped, and you couldn’t get more involuntary than that. He’d lost everything, with no hope of getting any of his Talents back.

“People learn how to manage if they go suddenly deaf or blind, so I can manage too.” He didn’t need telepathy to see Andreas’s reaction, because Andreas didn’t attempt to hide it. “Yes, it’s that bad. Losing one of my senses.”

“It must be worse than losing your hearing or even your sight. You were one of the most powerful Sorcerers anyone had ever known.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Fabrice quirked a brow, a very slight movement, but one that showed Andreas he hadn’t lost his sardonic sense of humor. “Now I’m not. But I still have a job that doesn’t depend on my Talent. I have five other senses and some powerful friends.”

“I’m not so powerful.”

“You will be in a couple of hours.” Fabrice took a deep breath and then another, before lifting himself up and almost falling back, cursing.

Andreas crossed the room to the closet and found a couple of pillows, coming back to lift Fabrice with one arm and shove the pillows behind him to make him more comfortable. Fabrice gave him a shaky smile. “Thanks. Although I know that’s not all you’ve done for me.”

Andreas almost dropped him. He’d convinced himself Fabrice wouldn’t remember what he’d done.

Then Fabrice really laughed, a deep chuckle of appreciation. “You’re very good at it, man. How much do you charge?”

If Fabrice hadn’t been so ill, Andreas might have considered hitting him, friend or no friend, but his obvious glower only made Fabrice laugh more. “Andreas, you’re one of the straightest men I’ve ever met. I’ve heard you complaining about it before. Do you think I don’t know how bad you feel about what you did for me?”

Heat rushed to his face. Fuck, was he blushing? “I was hoping you wouldn’t remember. Or at least, you wouldn’t remember who’d done it.”

“Better you than the doc. Only we know what I needed and what you did, and I’d rather keep it that way. Thanks for preserving what dignity I have left.”

Andreas sighed in relief for the second time in ten minutes. “I’m glad you see it like that. That’s why I did it. Leon knows I did it the first time, but he won’t say anything.”

“The fucking Italian was useful after all.”

Andreas busied himself pouring another glass of water for Fabrice. The shared knowledge had created a kind of bond between the Italian dragon and himself, one he would never have expected. Under all that bulk, Leon proved to be quite a sensitive individual. The dragon had even turned his back.

Andreas handed Fabrice the water, making sure his friend had a good grip on the glass before sitting back again. “What do you remember?”

Fabrice took a few deep swallows before he replied. “Well, no doubt Cristos knows I’m awake. He’ll want to debrief me.”

“Not necessarily. Your abduction had nothing to do with anything the Department is involved in. You’ll probably have to tell the police, though.”

“You called the cops?”

“The woman who owned the art gallery did that. We showed her our creds, but she called the NYPD anyway. They don’t know anything except the girl drugged you and—and—”

“Raped me.” Fabrice looked away, staring at the end of the bed. “Do I have to go to court?”

“Probably not. We’ve put her in a facility, and she’s clearly nutty as a fruitcake. If they want to be hard-nosed, they’ll prosecute.”

“I’m not sure I want them to. Not if it means I have to go to court.” Fabrice handed Andreas his empty glass without looking at him. “I never really realized how women felt when they suffer rape. I was stronger than her, one of the most powerful beings in the country, but none of that helped me, did it?”

“We were looking for some powerful enemy, someone who could have overpowered you.”

“Yeah, well.” Fabrice stared at his fist, pale against the blue coverlet, and clenched it. “It didn't matter how powerful I was. I wasn’t careful enough.”

“What happened?”

“I went out for coffee.” He spoke slowly, clenching and unclenching his fist, watching the tendons tighten and the muscles tense. “I met her there. Or more likely she had staked out my hotel and followed me to the coffee bar. We got talking, you know, general stuff, about art, about life, and I thought I’d accidentally scored, so I started to back off, talk about her art, impersonal stuff. Christ, how I’d scored!” The bitter note in his voice was almost welcome to Andreas. At last, the response he’d expected instead of the light, humorous tone Fabrice had used up until now. Because Fabrice couldn’t respond, Andreas kept out of his head. Fabrice had been invaded enough.

“She asked me back to her place, and I accepted. After all, what trouble could she be? I’d beaten off far more experienced women than her in my time. I’d met her at the gallery, Ellie knew her well and shares the apartment, and Cristos himself had vouched for Ellie. I was feeling pretty rough by then and getting worse, so I changed my mind. Thought I was ill, so I figured I’d tell her I wasn’t available after all and get a cab back to my hotel.” He glanced up at Andreas. “How’s Ellie taken all this?”

“Shocked, like me. She found Jenna’s notebook with sketches of you in it and came straight to us at the Department. I’d be with her if I wasn’t here with you. But she’s with Cristos. He took her home to look after her for a day or two.”

“Cristos? Well, she couldn’t be in safer hands.”

Andreas grunted in agreement. “She’s broken up. She knew Jenna wanted you, just not how much. You’re a good-looking man, and so it’s not surprising her friend would like you.”

“One good thing, I suppose. I can stop guarding my precious virginity.”

Andreas was vaguely shocked that Fabrice could discuss it so dispassionately.

Fabrice gave him a crooked smile before going back to watching his hand, still clenching and unclenching. “I’ve got to find something good in this. Otherwise I’ll go completely mad.” He paused. “I figured Jenna misunderstood me when we ended up at her studio instead of at my hotel. I felt worse after she made me coffee. She said I could crash, and I figured what the hell? I was already feeling woozy, and I remember wondering why she’d brought me to her studio. Then she asked if she could draw me, and I said yes. I stripped down to my underwear. After all, she was an artist, right? Of course by then the drugs had well and truly kicked in, and to say I was suggestible was the biggest understatement to date. Then the first erection happened.” Another long pause, one Andreas didn’t want to interrupt. “It hurt. I mean burned, really fucking hurt. I couldn’t think for a while, and when I did, it was too late.” He swallowed, all bravado gone.

Andreas didn’t want Fabrice to look at him. He was afraid of what his friend might see.

Fabrice seemed like a schoolboy, despite his powerfully built form and the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of one fist. He drooped against the pillows, one lock of golden hair falling forward over his face. “I couldn’t think of anything except stopping the pain. And when I did, all I wanted was to do it again. Because I had nothing to lose, then, except the pain. All the while she did it, I felt the power drain away from me, but I held on, or tried to. When I released—I can’t call it an orgasm, because I didn’t feel any pleasure in the act—everything went away. Then, too late, I thought of calling for help. The telepathy had gone. I had all the techniques, all the skill I needed, but no power. Nothing. I never felt so helpless. Andreas, I cried.”

“I would have cried too.”

When Fabrice lifted his head, Andreas could see the sheen misting his eyes. “She thought it was joy. She was completely nuts. She said all kinds of weird shit. We were meant to be together, it was fated, she knew as soon as she saw me I was hers and she was mine. And when I fell asleep, she must have shot some more poison into me, because I woke up hard again. What an introduction to sex!” His sharp, hard laugh held no humor, but a bitter agony. “She took away my free will, used me like a thing. I tell you, I’m going to help raped women all I can when I get out of this. Christ, I was so angry! But I couldn’t do anything except fuck her and fuck her and fuck her. That was all there was. And she kept telling me crap like she loved me. Who’d do that to someone they loved? Really loved?”

“Nobody, man. Nobody.”

Then Fabrice wept, and Andreas wept with him.

* * * *

Andreas glanced up to see the door open to admit Cristos, Leon, and Roz.

“The case is still open,” Cristos informed everyone, “but the situation has changed. Andreas, you can go in to the DIB and tell them you’ve been transferred back to me. There’s nothing left for us to do there. Candy has already resigned at the DIB. She’s back with us after she’s cleared up at the DIB.”

Roz stood by the door, as she had the day before. She refused to look at him, wouldn’t open to him, although he reached out to her as soon as he saw her.

Sitting up in bed wearing an open shirt, Fabrice looked every inch the powerful Sorcerer, but everyone present knew that had gone from him. Not everyone knew to what extent it had gone. Only Andreas and Cristos knew for sure.

Everything. Fabrice was a mortal, a human being. A very handsome, reasonably well off, successful human being, but at the moment, he felt like an intruder in the company of Talents. Andreas knew because he’d told him. Cristos knew because—because he just knew, but neither man volunteered any information, only exchanged a brief mental link before the meeting started. It wasn’t their call.

Typically, Fabrice faced his new status head-on. “I’m not much use to you anymore. I’m nothing but a man. A mortal.”

“You’re more useful than you know,” Cristos told him. “You’re still a trained agent. You’re a successful businessman, and you happen to be in a business we’re currently investigating. You know your company has a branch in London?”

“Yes, we opened it about ten years ago.” Fabrice frowned, and Andreas knew he was wondering where Cristos was leading them this time, because his mind went that way too. Andreas had decided to move to Europe. Was Cristos changing his mind?

“We need a man in London.” He glanced at Andreas. “I thought a full-time agent would be useful, but I was wrong. We need someone who can contact corporations, entrepreneurs. There’s a specific company there we need to investigate. I was planning to send Andreas as a trained field agent, but you’ll do better because you have an entry. I wouldn’t have asked you before, but… Well, things have changed.”

“You’re damn right things have changed. And yes, I’d like to get away for a while. The change of scenery would do me good.” Talents in London might know he’d been a Sorcerer, but not what kind, not the virgin, highly trained agent kind. Cristos had deliberately kept Fabrice’s extremely powerful abilities quiet. He’d been a secret weapon. One of a few.

“If you want, the job’s yours. A fresh start in London and a new assignment. You’ll have a new boss too. My London equivalent. The MI6 department is smaller. It depends more on outside agents, but it’s just as wide ranging. You’ll like Grady. He’s an old friend of mine.”

“So I wouldn’t be working for Department 57 anymore?”

“You know better than that, Fabrice. You’ll always be working for us.
Us
being the operative word. Whatever the collection of Talents calls itself, you’ll be part of the collective. Always.”

Fabrice’s mouth turned down in a derisive sneer. “An honorary member?”

“No.” Cristos didn’t hesitate in his reply “Whatever or whoever you are, Department 57 can always use a man like you. Grady’s department is tucked away in the MI6 building, but it’s separate.”

“Thank you.” Fabrice sounded humbled, or as humbled as he ever sounded, which wasn’t very much. “I’ll go.” He paused. “But not as an agent, or not wholly as one. My company has a branch in London. Maybe I’ll just transfer. What about Andreas?”

“It’s up to him.” Cristos turned his laserlike stare on Andreas. “You can go with Fabrice if you like, act as his backup, or stay here. There are others I can set to work with Fabrice, and I have plenty of other things for you to do. This new avenue of exploration is turning out to be more fruitful than I thought. Roz’s idea is on the right track. Candy’s not here because she’s glued to her monitor. I glued her there.”

“Does this mean Italy is involved too?” Leon, until now staring out at the night sky, turned to confront Cristos.

“Very much so.”

“So I am to return home?”

“Back to Europe, anyway.” Cristos spread his hands. “I know you came here to get away from a difficult situation back home, but that’s more or less resolved. There is a definite Italian link. We need all the good people we can get if we’re to put the lid on this problem.”

“What, precisely, is the problem?” Andreas found himself asking. He concentrated on Cristos as he rarely had before, but he didn’t fool himself. He looked at Cristos so he wouldn’t have to look at Roz. The last time he’d held her, why hadn’t he memorized every touch, every dimple and hollow and curve? They would have to last him a fuck of a long time. The way she gave him one, brief glance of contempt when she entered the room told him all he needed to know. She was done with him.