Fated (31 page)

Hart shook his head. They’d lock
him
up instead. “Did he come to you because he knew he was dying?”

“Oh no. He came to me years before that.” Mauro’s head snapped up. Apparently this was news to him too. Julian’s voice gentled when he added, “This was before your time, love.”

“Then why?” Isaac asked, the grip on his mug not easing.

Julian smiled at Isaac. “For his wife, of course.”

Hart must’ve made a noise, because the strange tension in Isaac snapped, as if he’d just remembered who was sitting beside him. He put the mug down hard on the coffee table and then gripped Hart’s hand. Hart tried to pull away, but Isaac was having none of it.

“They don’t care,” he said. “Let me.” He twisted toward Julian again. “Tell him the rest. You have to.”

The curl around Julian’s mouth suggested very much he didn’t have to do any such thing, but for some reason, he began to talk anyway. Mauro hadn’t moved since Julian had addressed him.

“Your parents knew Sabine was dying. The doctors couldn’t do a thing for her but keep the cancer at bay for as long as possible. At first diagnosis they’d given her six months, but she responded better than expected to the chemo. If it continued like that she could have had years.

“I think your father didn’t quite believe the Predator myth, but he was willing to try anything by then. So I let myself be found. They made their case, and I made my offer.”

“And she refused,” Hart said, choking up. Isaac’s fingers tightened around his.

“She did. Do you know why? Because sometimes the energy it takes to heal is too much. I told her that in her case, because the cancer was so far spread, the healing most likely would burn her up. But it was worth the chance, since she would die anyway, and in far more pain.”

“But she didn’t want to risk the time she had with her son,” Isaac said defiantly, and Julian nodded.

Hart rose to his feet a little unsteadily. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure,” Mauro said. “Through there.” He pointed at a door off the kitchen, and Hart disappeared through it. He wouldn’t stay too long; he didn’t like the idea of Isaac alone with that… creature, but he had to just gather himself for a second. He didn’t look into the mirror of the small bathroom where a shower curtain was pulled closed across the bath. He just splashed some ice-cold water on his face and didn’t bother drying it.

When he returned everyone was where he’d left them, but the silence felt oppressive. “Come on, Isaac. We have to go. Don’t leave town, Julian, or you, Mauro. I’ll be back with more questions.” About Toby, about Freddie’s mom, about the marks. But he felt like he was going to puke, and the urge to flee from here with Isaac was overwhelming. Julian had been forthcoming so far: no reason to believe he wouldn’t be here if Hart came back with Freddie another day.

“Any time, Lieutenant,” Mauro said, staring at Julian like he had a question or two of his own. “Apart from work up the Mountain for me, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Hart.” An odd note to Isaac’s whisper rang close to a plea, but Hart couldn’t stay there any longer, and he held on to Isaac’s hand, dragging him out of the door.

He fumbled his keys three times. “Shit, god
dammit
.”

“Do you want me to drive?”

“I—No. If I get caught allowing you to drive this car for no reason—”

“No reason? You look like you’re about to faint. Give me the fucking keys.”

A little shocked he handed them over, staring numbly as Isaac opened the door with angry, jerky movements and sank down in the driver’s seat. He walked around the hood to the passenger side.

“Sorry,” Isaac said to the steering wheel, scowling at it like it just insulted him. “That was out of line.”

“Nothing I didn’t deserve. Want to ride with the sirens?” Hart laughed when Isaac’s face lit up, but the burst of relief didn’t last very long. “I’m kidding, Jesus, just… get me out of here.”

“Yes, sir.” Isaac smirked, put the car in reverse, and began the long, winding drive down Shadow Mountain.

Hart found a missed call and a voice mail message on his cell when he plugged it into the charger in the car. It was from Freddie, and he stared at the darkness between the trees, mind blank as his heartbeat continued its nauseating roll.

“
Hart, it’s
me. I’m sorry to bother you today, but I wanted to let you know we found Angela’s flower van.”
Hart sat up in his seat, pressing the phone tighter to his ear.
“You can’t do anything right now. It’s still being dusted for prints and it will be a while before we hear anything. I just thought you should know.”

“Where did you find it, Freddie,” Hart mumbled, aware of Isaac’s short glances in his direction.

As if she’d heard him, Freddie went on, rustling papers.
“We found it at 495 Oak Lane, on an estate not far from the retirement home. The house used to belong to a Caroline Albright, but it’s been vacant for four years. We’re still trying to track down a current owner. She passed away four years ago. Car accident, by the looks of things, but I can double-check that. Anyway, don’t come to the station, there’s no point until we know if forensics can get anything useful out of this. Call me if you find out something new, otherwise I’ll see you on Sunday. Bye now.”

Something new. Like the Predator—Phoenix—being real. Was Julian telling the truth? Or did he just believe in his own delusions? And what did he mean by
burn her up
? Hart lowered his phone and sighed.

“Bad news?” Isaac asked tentatively.

“Not exactly. I have to call my partner, though. Tell her about….” He waved a hand in the overall direction of the Mountain they were still descending.

Not taking his eyes off the road, Isaac’s eyebrows went up. “You’re going to tell her about the—About Julian?”

“She believes her mother was healed, so… yeah.”

“Okay.”

Hart stared at his phone and pressed dial. She answered on the second ring.

“Hey, you really didn’t need to call me back. It’s not urgent. They still haven’t found anything.”

“That’s all right. Listen—” He hesitated when he heard a low murmur in the background. “Are you alone right now? Can you talk?”

“I have a guest, but I can always excuse myself for a moment.” She sounded like she’d turned away from the phone slightly, no doubt to smile at whoever was with her. He thought about telling her he’d found Julian, and then about how she’d have to face her guest with a straight face, maybe even ask him to leave, because she’d want to talk to Julian herself right away.

“It’s all right, it can wait.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Call me if you hear anything about the van.”

“Will do,” Freddie said. “Take care.” She hung up.

“She wasn’t alone?” Isaac guessed.

Hart stared out of the window, watching the landscape turn from shadow to sunshine as they left the foot of the Mountain behind. “No, she wasn’t. Look, did you notice something weird about Julian? I mean… did he look strange to you?”

Isaac shrugged. “He’s a bit unusual looking I guess, but not bad or anything. I didn’t notice any horns or wings, if that’s what you mean.”

Hart laughed softly. “No,” he said. “Me neither.”

T
HEY
HAD
both calmed down a lot by the time Isaac unlocked the front door. The house was silent apart from the slow ticking of the clock in Jonathan’s study.

“Can you play the piano?” Hart asked when they passed his mother’s old music room.

“Little bit. Why? You want me to play you something?” Isaac cast a coy look over his shoulder, and Hart felt the promise of it tingle all the way down to his toes.

“Sure, as long as it’s not chopsticks.”

“Why, is that all you’ve got?”

Hart bit his reply back and, kicking off his shoes, steered them in the direction of the piano bench. “Come on,” he said, sitting down and patting his lap.

Isaac lowered himself on Hart’s thighs, lifted the piano lid, and began to play. Hart didn’t know the tune, but it was a happy one, fast and light, and it failed to keep his attention. He got distracted by how the sunlight caught Isaac’s hair where the curls tapered down to the nape of his neck and the clean shorn line beneath them. He wanted to press his nose against it, inhale Isaac, bite the skin lightly. Isaac’s T-shirt rode up a little every time he leaned forward into the music. Hart lightly put his hands on Isaac’s hips and thumbed the skin back and forth above his waistband. If the music strayed from its tempo, he wasn’t paying enough attention to hear it, but Isaac did let his head fall back. Hart wondered if his eyes were closed.

“Are you saluting me, Lieutenant?” Isaac glanced over his shoulder with a grin, the music coming to a halt.

Hart lifted an eyebrow, and Isaac showed what he meant by pushing into his lap just a little. Enough to put pressure on Hart’s growing erection. He laughed self-consciously and ducked his head, not expecting it when Isaac suddenly rose to his feet and turned around. Isaac’s pants were tented in front of him, and he sat down again, this time facing Hart, straddling his thighs.

Hooking his arms around Hart’s neck, he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

“That’s not what you wanted before.”

“I can change my mind, can’t I? And something tells me you’re waiting to do that out of some misplaced chivalry regarding my age, or whatever else you’ve got going on in there.” He gently rapped his knuckles against Hart’s temple. “So… I’m easy.”

“Okay,” Hart said, and Isaac’s eyes widened in surprise, followed by a little gasp, as if he hadn’t expected to get what he wanted. “Okay,” he said again, “but not in here.”

Isaac tugged him up without a word and dragged him into the hallway. “Here,” he breathed, guiding Hart down onto the stairs. “Don’t move. I’m going to get a condom.”

Oh God. Hart covered his face with both hands, waiting with a sudden nervous anticipation that left him shaking. Had Toby felt like this when he had made him wait? But he couldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t think about Toby when he was about to have sex with Isaac, for Christ’s sake.

You’re a coward
, he thought to himself, and pushed Toby from his mind.

A few seconds later, Isaac thundered down the stairs. He stopped about two steps above Hart and tugged him up. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his T-shirt, and Hart thumbed those pretty, hardening nipples. They kissed slowly and deeply, and Hart could already tell the carpet was going to be murder on his knees. Without a word Isaac pushed against his shoulders and then down, showing him what he wanted. Hart tugged the pants off Isaac’s hips, taking the underwear along with them, and tossed them over the rail. With one hand he pumped that beautiful cock up and down a few times, relishing how it hardened even further in his grip, and then he bent down to take it into his mouth.

Isaac let out a low, guttural moan, spread his knees wider to give Hart more room, and then put his hands to use, guiding Hart to the rhythm he liked. Hart didn’t mind. Isaac’s grip was gentle and grounding, and Hart sucked cock like it was the only chance he’d ever get.

It didn’t take very long before Isaac pulled him off and kissed him again, urgently this time, tugging at Hart’s clothes like they offended him. Hart quickly undid his shoulder holster and put the gun out of reach.

It would’ve been good to cut the tension with a joke, or just to say anything at all, but deep down Hart was anxious for this. It had been so very long since someone had fucked him senseless. To be honest, he couldn’t recall the last time, and then there had been Toby, who’d been so wild and feverish under his hands. Oh God, how could he think about that now? He was a terrible person.

“You okay?” Isaac whispered, peeling the clothes off Hart’s body. “You’re not hard anymore.”

“I will be,” he said, and shut his mind down before it could truly embarrass him.

Isaac clearly hadn’t been lying when he said he’d gained experience in college. Knowing exactly what he was doing, he had Hart spread his knees and lean his forehead on his arms a few steps above. With strong, confident strokes he worked the tension out of Hart’s back, and by the time he rubbed a wet finger against his hole, Hart was fully hard again.

Isaac’s hand worked an expert rhythm on Hart’s cock at the same time, hard enough to distract him from the burn when it came. The burn intensified until it became pleasure, and all too soon—or not soon enough, he was too far gone to tell by then—Isaac pushed his fat cockhead into Hart’s body. After giving him a moment to adjust, Isaac began to set a pace that steadily picked up speed. Within minutes Isaac’s fingers were clamped around his hips in a bruising grip, and Isaac was going at him so hard he couldn’t breathe.

Every now and then Isaac slowed, moving his hips in a tender roll, and Hart had to take advantage of these precious seconds of reprieve to gasp for breath before he began again. By the fourth or fifth time Isaac slowed, Hart was moaning helplessly, almost soundlessly but for the breath being forced from his lungs. It felt like Isaac was everywhere: in him and around him and over him.

“Are you okay?” Isaac asked on another slow roll. His breath came fast too, and Hart could feel the sweat from his chest drip onto his spine.

He nodded his head because he didn’t have oxygen to spare for speech.

“Need me to slow down?”

Hart shook his head.

“Good.” Isaac began to drive into him faster again. “It’s so good, just like I knew it would be.”

Hart began moaning again because Isaac had shifted a little, lifting up on one foot rather than kneeling, and the change in the angle made the swell of Isaac’s dick press against Hart’s prostate every time he pulled out. The onslaught of sensation had him scrambling at the carpet on the stairs, and without breaking stride, Isaac gripped one of his hands and didn’t let go. Hart hung on for the ride, for dear life, almost afraid of where this was taking him. The carpet burned his knees and elbows, it stung his face where the skin still felt a little raw. Inside him a wide-open space began to expand, and it couldn’t go on like this. He couldn’t hold on anymore without exploding.