Charley gave him a dazzling smile. “Dad said you were coming. It’s good to see you again, Sorley. He said Gethin Hughes is here too. Is that right? Was that your car I saw earlier? I didn’t recognise it.”
“Take a breath, dude.” Bradshaw gave his boyfriend a sappy grin and turned back to Sorley. “Charley’s been whooping my arse on a run, as usual. We’re heading inside to see if Dalziel has any more news. You coming?” He was evidently making an effort to be friendly. Sorley dug his nails into his palms so he didn’t blurt out something offensive about wolves.
“All right.” They headed inside together. Sorley confirmed that yes, it had been Gethin with him earlier, and he assumed the Council would be meeting as soon as was convenient. “It’s disconcerting to be the centre of attention in this way,” he confessed in a moment of weakness.
“Damn right it must be,” Bradshaw murmured. “Bad enough when Charley had a known target on his back, but this has got to suck, being on the end of an unknown quantity’s deranged violence. If there’s anything we can do to help…” He left the sentence hanging as they reached the house, then said, “You should come with us. I know you can’t stand me, and I’m struggling to understand what Dalziel sees in you, but I know it’s important to him that we find whoever’s behind the attacks, so I’d like us to try to play nicely.”
“That’s not what you said ear—” Charley snapped his jaw shut under the withering glance Bradshaw shot him. “I mean, yeah, we want to help. It’s like me and Luc, but y’know, old guys and hate sex, right? That sounds exciting, apart from the whole peeps getting hurt aspect.”
Against his will, Sorley burst out laughing. “You are too much,” he spluttered. “I’ll have you know I’m only twenty-eight.” He didn’t want to dwell on the hate sex allegation. How did this kid evenknowhe and Gethin were fucking?
Charley laughed right back. “Yeah and my dad’s thirty-four, but how long’s he been that age? You weren’t born in the 90s, were you? At least, not the 1990s. And there’s no way Gethin’s young. He’s a much older man.” His conviction about Gethin, plus his unrepentant smirk, brought forth another chuckle.
“Way to wound a bloke, Charley. Probably best not to mention Gethin’s advanced years within his earshot.”
They headed for the library, Sorley’s pride dented by the little shit’s casually-flung words, but his heart light as he realised both Bradshaw and Charley were serious about helping to bring the perpetrator of the crimes to justice. He didn’t think there was much they could personally do, but he felt less alone.
Charley and Bradshaw stopped to pull their jackets off and hang them up. As Charley turned around, Sorley’s vision zeroed in. The kid was wearing a running singlet, showing plenty of bare skin.
“That mark on your shoulder,” Sorley said slowly. “It looks like a bite.”
Charley beamed at him again. “It is,” he confirmed, his tone imbued with love and pride. “It’s a mating bond mark. Luc bit me.”
Bradshaw tugged at the neck of his T-shirt, uncovering a similar scar. “I’ve got a matching one,” he said, sounding insufferably smug but also very proud. “We weren’t sure if a mate bond would take with us being different species, but it did. From what we can tell, it’s not any different from anyone else’s.” His gaze shifted to Charley, his eyes softening. “It’s tied us together in the best way, literally joined us through the bond. I always know where he is now, and how he’s feeling. It’s amazing.”
Well, damn. Sorley didn’t want to startlikingthis furry rich boy, but he was apparently a sucker for a happy ending, and there was no doubt the pair of them were utterly besotted with each other. The scarring on the wolf’s shoulder was less evident than on Charley’s, but it was there, a silvered patch of imperfectly healed skin, glowing ever so faintly in the dim lighting of the passageway. He knew almost nothing about mate bonds, but he knew they were considered sacred among shifters, and more binding than marriage.
Unwilling to come across as a dick, and God forbid, to risk offending Dalziel, he offered his hand to the startled wolf.
“I didn’t realise. Please accept my sincere congratulations.”
Bradshaw took his hand cautiously but his handshake was warm and firm. “Uh, thank you.”
Sorley then extended the same courtesy to Charley, who grinned like a maniac. “Thanks. I can’t waituntil we get married too, it’s gonna beepic.”
* * *
Sorley was heartilyglad Pavel had brought in drinks for everyone; something to fiddle with was essential. His head was spinning as Dalziel kept adding names to the list of people who would be attending the Council meeting. He nearly asked for some paper, but Charley beat him to it, whereupon Dalziel smiled fondly and assured his son everyone would have a print-out with names and designations before midday. Sorley didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to think about all the guys who’d been hurt because they were somehow linked to him, however tenuously. He didn’t want to listen to platitudes, or to assumptions — veiled or otherwise — about his sex life. He didn’t want to sit in this room, with its mingled, unfamiliar scents of arousal and anxiety and fuckinglove.He wanted…he wanted….
He wanted Gethin, he realised. He wanted the annoying fucking wolf to enfold him in his stupidly muscly arms and to flatten Sorley against his dumb hairy chest, with its solid, comforting heartbeat and his wolfy warmth, and to suck him and fuck him until he was a blur of noth—
He felt a push of calm from his sire. He sat up straighter, taking comfort in Alec sitting next to him. His friend didn’t seem unduly worried, and Alec’s ability to pick up even the smallest emotional unrest was legendary.
Dalziel cleared his throat for attention. “We have several items to discuss before the main meeting, the most important, according to Mr Hughes, being the unfortunate demise of the human male at the hands of our as yet unknown assassin. Sorley, I know this is hard for you, but we need to know as much as possible about the deceased and your relation to him as you can give us.” His eyes softened. “I would’ve mentioned it before but you were nowhere to be found.”
Sorley felt himself flinch. “Someonedied?What the fuck? Why can’t we find this bastard? What are we doing wrong? Whataren’twe doing? Are we actually doing anything?” He felt perilously close to tears. It didn’t matter that the dead man was human, far more vulnerable than supernaturals. Someone that he, Sorley, had been in contact with, had been exterminated simply for being in some way part of Sorley’s social sphere. He fought off a wave of nausea that shocked him — he didn’t know his healthy self could feel sick — and raised his eyes to his sire.
“We have a name, I presume?”
“Thomas Davidson.” Dalziel’s demeanour seemed defeated. “Justin said he’ll send a picture through as soon as he has one. Does the name mean anything to you?”
“I don’t keep a little black book of men I fucked,” Sorley griped, frantically wheeling through his memory banks for anyone that might have owned that name. He could sense Gethin’s eyes on him, but not the emotions coming off the wolf. Was he disgusted, embarrassed, angry? Sorley didn’t know. His mind kept stalling on the worddead.
“I don’t know,” he conceded finally. “I might recognise him from a picture, but I can’t guarantee it.” He didn’t want to feel ashamed of his sexual conquests, but there was a crawly feeling in his gut, as if he should apologise for ever having had fun of any kind.
Charley leant across the table. “I get it,” he said, a mite too eagerly. “I was a total slut before I met Luc; couldn’t wait to get bent over and railed any time the opportunity presented itself. It’s impossible to keep track, isn’t it? Don’t feel bad if you can’t remember him. Probably means he wasn’t very good.”
Sorley caught Bradshaw fighting off a snigger as he looked up. The young wolf was shaking his head, his eyes tracking between his mate and the rest of the assembled group.
