Sawyer, still in the doorway, peered down the mezzanine to the jetty. “Ah.” Then he made a thoughtful face. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” His eyes met Ciaran’s again, and Ciaran struggled to keep his form.
He wanted to morph so fucking badly.
It was a physical pain to stop it, like it was a physical pain not to get closer to Sawyer.
“Isn’t... isn’t the water too cold?” Sawyer asked.
Fray gave him his best grin and put his hand to his bare chest. “Nordic heritage. Swimming in ice water is good for the circulation system.”
Sawyer nodded as if that made sense. “All right, then,” he said with a polite nod to Tobin and Fray. His eyes met Ciaran’s once more, and Ciaran almost buckled. “You okay?” Sawyer asked him.
Ciaran didn’t trust himself to speak, but he somehow managed a nod.
Sawyer squinted because he clearly didn’t believe that for one second. Ciaran berated himself for his lack of self-control.
“If no one’s in trouble,” Sawyer said, “I’ll leave you to it.”
Oh, someone was in trouble, all right.
Sawyer turned, disappearing into the night as he crossed the street and headed back to his police station.
Only then did Ciaran breathe.
Fray was immediately in front of him. “Tobes, call a meeting. Now. We need everyone here.”
Tobin didn’t hesitate, though he did spare Ciaran a concerned glance before he disappeared out the door.
Then Fray took hold of Ciaran’s chin and made him look into his eyes. “And you,” he said. “You’re gonna tell me what the fuckis going on.” He gestured toward the police station. “Who the fuck is that cop to you?”
Ciaran’s form shimmered with barely concealed restraint. He was going to say out loud what he could barely understand, but what he knew was true.
“I...,” he said, mouth dry. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. I can feel the energy rolling off you, man. Fear. You’re fucking scared of him.”
Ciaran let out a humourless laugh and dragged his hand through his wet hair. He’d never been able to hide anything from Fray. “I...” He shook his head and tried again. He put his hands on his knees, cursing his stupid human lungs. “I think he’s.... Fuck.”
Kellan appeared at the door then, one of his journals in hand, expression grim. “That he’s your mate?”
Ciaran’s body twisted, tormented, as if hearing the words out loud was both a relief and a burden.
Fray’s eyes were comically wide. And when Ciaran didn’t dismiss the claim, it was a few seconds before Fray could speak.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Chapter
Five
SAWYER
Sawyer didn’t believethem for one second.
Maybe he could have believed the whole Nordic heritage thing. Fraser was tall, blond, striking blue eyes. But the fact that he said what Tobin had said earlier, verbatim, made Sawyer believe something was very off.
“Nordic heritage. Swimming in ice water is good for the circulation system.”
When Sawyer had gone to the jetty to look out across the dark water he’d seen Ciaran and Fraser disappear into hours earlier, looking at a possible two-body recovery for all he knew, Tobin had come over.
