Hidden Passions (13 page)

The kids grumped about it but went, freeing Tony to follow Rick into his bedroom for an obviously overdue word alone.

Rick walked straight to his dresser, rummaging in it for a clean shirt. As he peeled off the one he wore, Tony realized he'd recently had sex--with Cass, apparently, because her scent was mixed with his.

Slightly shocked and possibly envious, he dropped onto the side of Rick's bed. How had this happened? He'd thought Rick was busy working the faerie case.

Unless Cass had something to do with that.

"Holy smokes," he whispered, figuring Rick wouldn't want the cubs hearing. "Is Cass Maycee The One?"

"The one what?" Rick said, purposefully being dense.

"The person the dying faerie said you had to protect."

"Oh. Yes, it's looking that way."

"Wow," Tony said. "You and Snow White. Your high school fantasy."

"Her name is Cass," Rick said a tad prissily. "She's an actual person, not a storybook character."

Oh his brother still dug her. Tony gave up fighting his grin. This was too good not to tease him over. "You might want to shower, Prince Charming. I can tell you and 'Cass' got sweaty."

Rick cursed at him, which Tony found amusing. "Call Nate," Rick snapped. "I need to know everything he found out about dragon keepers."

Tony knew how to jump to conclusions. Rick must think Cass was a dragon keeper--or why would the dead faerie want him to protect her? Assuming she was one, didn't she need a dragon to take care of?

Wow
, he thought, digging out his cell to call Nate. Maybe reports of the beasts' extinction were premature.

~

Once Nate hugged his excited kids and was introduced to Cass, he confirmed Tony's suspicion. The snazzy wolf sat in a fat armchair, leaning forward across his knees. Tony's pulse sped up.

Finally he was being clued in on what had been going on.

"So," Nate said, pausing to smooth his shiny ponytail. "I went to see Professor Pliny, the expert on faerie culture at City U. According to him, true dragons--the ones that are supposed to be extinct--could make and unmake worlds. They feature in fae origin tales, including the one explaining how our Pocket was formed. The story claims our reality was created from the death energy of T'Fain, the last true dragon to walk Faerie. Once she was gone, there weren't any more."

"Except there must be," Rick said. "Or why did the faerie who ran away from Tony attack Cass's father at home last night? The female who died in the subway was a protector. Cass's father is a pureblood whose origins we can't trace. All we really know is that he's been living in the Pocket, under the radar of his fellow fae. I think Sword Guy was trying to get intelligence about dragons from both of them."

Sword Guy had attacked Cass's father? Tony looked at her. Snow White was chewing her thumbnail unhappily.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked.

"We think so," Rick said. He was on the now righted sofa with Cass perched next to him on its arm. "His apartment was a shambles, from a battle involving magic is what we guess. A witness saw him running away alive."

Cass squirmed uncomfortably. "Dad never talked to me about dragons. I don't know any more about them than you."

Her tone struck Tony as peculiar. It reminded him of Rick claiming not to know who the dying faerie wanted him to protect. Cass might think she was being truthful, but Tony wasn't convinced. Nate shot her a look that said he also doubted her claim.

"Here's the thing," Nate went on without challenging her. "Professor Pliny said there were rumors that T'Fain wasn't actually the last dragon. He said three eggs might have survived from an earlier clutch, eggs the Dragon Guild hid away for their own reasons. Someone, maybe even Cass's father, could have smuggled them to Resurrection for safekeeping. Faeries don't age like other folks. What if Cass's dad was T'Fain's keeper? In the legend, he let her die at the king's command. Maybe he feels guilty. Maybe helping to hide those eggs is his way of making up for it."

"My father's not that sort of person," Cass burst out. "He's a simple toymaker."

Rick put his hand on her leg to calm her.

Tony thought that was cute, but decided to keep his amusement to himself. He leaned back on the couch on the other side of Rick. It seemed to help his brain when he wagged the foot he'd pulled onto his knee. "What are we thinking here? That some block of faeries wants to hatch new dragons and make their own Pocket? One they can lord it over without interference from rivals?"

Faeries loved lording it over folks--the faerie who'd poofed away from him being a prime example. Tony had no trouble imagining him wanting to rule a world.

"Professor Pliny suggested another possibility," Nate said. "That some people in Faerie want to
un
make us. Evidently, certain factions think Faerie should be Faerie, and Outside should stay Outside. They're very much opposed to our blended reality."

Okay, that was a grim idea. Tony's life wasn't perfect, but he certainly didn't want it to cease to be. The others didn't look any happier than him.

"Maybe we should try to dig up more facts," Rick said sensibly. "All we've got now is speculation."

"We could put out an APB on Cass's father," Tony suggested.

"Let's hold off on that. We wouldn't want to inadvertently lead his enemies to him. If he's got the eggs, or knows where they are, we can't afford to let them fall into the wrong hands."

"We shouldn't discuss this outside the squad," Tony said, sounding unnaturally serious even to himself. "If this is a faerie plot, they could have glamoured anyone to help them."

"Agreed," Nate said.

"Agreed," Rick seconded.

Their concurrence didn't gratify Tony the way it otherwise might have. He'd live without pack respect if it meant his world weren't in danger of ending.

CHRIS had braced himself for the challenges he'd face after his alpha married. Not on his list of scenarios was watching her husband walk around in front of him, fresh out of the shower, in nothing but a designer towel. Men that lean weren't Chris's ideal, but the anatomy manual look suited Nate. The brown and black towel he'd wrapped around his waist showed off his olive skin tone and also his tight rear end.

Evina seemed to be admiring both from her stool at the kitchen island across from Chris. This prevented her from noticing her beta's stoic expression. Should a supposedly straight man look or not? Neither tigers nor wolves were shy about their bodies, but Chris always had trouble deciding.

"Where's my blue shirt?" Nate asked, returning from a brief disappearance into his new bedroom.

The open-plan loft had changed since Chris had last been in it--a visit he definitely wasn't mentioning. Walls had been added, and a second bathroom, and a modern bookshelf-type storage unit for housing toys. One look at the items strewn around the living room indicated this wasn't being used as conscientiously as Nate must have hoped.

The kitchen, where Evina and Chris were going over their station budget, remained pretty much the same. Well, maybe its counter hadn't hosted a zoo's worth of little rubber animals before.

"Your blue shirt is at the dry cleaners," Evina said.

"Damn it."

Evina's eyebrows rose.

"Sorry," Nate said. "I'm not damn it-ing you. I'll pick up both our stuff tomorrow, if you want. I had another blue shirt at work, but Tony borrowed it. I don't know why he does that. My shirts are too snug for him."

Chris was grateful Nate had pulled trousers on. Hearing Tony's name was sufficient to send a helpless hot thrill through him.

"Tony likes you," Evina responded. "Remember when you couldn't find your dress shoes, and it turned out Rafi hid them in his tiger roost?"

"Tony's not a six-year-old."

"No," Evina said, the gentleness that was a big part of her in her voice. "Tony's a full grown man."

"Tony doesn't like me
that
way," Nate protested.

Evina smiled. "He likes you that way a little."

Nate's face twisted as if he wanted to argue. "He practice-flirts on me is all. He doesn't really have a crush."

Evina didn't answer, just continued to smile lovingly at him. Chris fought an urge to clear his throat. This conversation was making him uncomfortable. He knew he had no right to be bothered by the idea of Tony having a crush on another man.

"I'll wear the gray Armani," Nate decided, turning away again. "Witnesses respond to that nearly as well as the blue."

"Is he serious?" Chris asked once he'd shut the bedroom door.

Evina laughed softly. "He is, though he isn't usually this wound up." A sober expression replaced her amusement. "This is hush-hush, so please don't repeat what I'm going to say. One of his pack members has disappeared."

Chris's blood went cold. "Not Tony," he blurted before he could stop himself.

Evina blinked at him. "No. His brother Rick. He was guarding someone for a case--a witness, I guess--and they were attacked by goblins at her home. They escaped, but no one has heard from them since Sunday. Their alpha thinks they've gone off the grid on purpose."

"Goblins," Chris repeated. Goblins were one of Resurrection's more controversial ethnic groups. They were smart and worked cheaply, but the few who weren't law abiding could be vicious.

"That's what I hear," Evina said. "The pack's been in a tizzy. You know how tight-knit wolves are. One of them going missing is upsetting."

Chris gripped the island's black marble edge. Tony must be worried. Rick was his brother.

"I'm sure he'll be all right," Evina said. "Those wolves are resourceful."

Chris knew she meant Rick would be all right. He doubted anyone would remember Rick's jokey younger brother might need support. He realized too late that he was rubbing his right eyebrow, a nervous habit he tried not to indulge in.

"You're probably right," he said, forcing his hand to drop. "And speaking of resources, we'd better get this budget ready to submit . . ."

~

Tony stepped out of the interrogation room and closed the soundproofed door carefully. He wanted to slam it, but he'd probably break the thing.

The squad had pulled in a bunch of goblins for questioning. All were criminals with known or suspected faerie ties. The attack on Cass and Rick had left one goblin dead and quite a lot of goblin blood splatter. Happily, this suggested Rick and Cass weren't injured. Sadly, goblin DNA was complex. The lab took extra long to work up profiles. Complicating matters further, goblins didn't have fingerprints. As a result, they had no I.D. for the attackers, not even the one who'd died.

The goblin lawyer for the thief Tony tried to grill had accused him of police prejudice.

Possibly he was right. Tony found the lawyer as suspicious as his client. Frustrated, he thumped the back of his head against the cinderblock in the hall. Rick had been missing four days now. As far as Tony could tell, they weren't any closer to locating him. Sword Guy hadn't popped back onto the radar either, a fact Tony did not find comforting.

His gut told him the fae was still in Resurrection--and up to no damn good.

The door next to his opened. Adam looked at him as he exited and shut it. "Any luck?"

Tony shook his head. The alpha grimaced and rubbed the frown lines beside his mouth. "These goblins do not like talking to police."

"It doesn't help that we can't mention the you-know-whats."

They'd decided it was best not to let the rest of the city know a trio of dragon eggs might be floating around somewhere. If they existed and could be hatched after all this time, they'd attract too much potentially dangerous attention. Tony had no idea how you got a dragon to make or unmake a world, but any number of faeries might. In a town like Resurrection, an unexploded nuke would cause less trouble.

"How are you doing?" Adam asked in a more personal tone.

"Frustrated." Tony leaned harder against the wall. "Interrogations go better when Rick and I do them together."

"Sure," Adam said. He hesitated, his green eyes too compassionate for comfort. "You sense anything? About Rick, I mean. You two have a strong brother bond."

Tony guessed they did, but he was no psychic. He shrugged and looked down at his running shoes. His eyes were pricking with emotion. "I'm having a hell of a time not calling my folks back from vacation, but I think that's just me wishing they were here. If things get hairy, they'll be safer where they are."

"Why don't you have dinner with me and Ari? We'll grab a pizza. Kelsey's decided she likes gnawing on pepperoni. Ari thinks it isn't good for a five month old, but she
is
a five-month-old shifter."

"That's a nice offer," Tony said, "but I think I'm going to crash when I get home tonight."

"You sure? We'd love to have you. You might . . . settle easier with company."

Tony supposed he seemed like he needed settling. He just didn't think an evening playing fourth wheel to his alpha's cozy family would make him feel better. "I think I need sleep more than I need company."

"You do look tired," Adam acknowledged. "We're spinning our wheels here. Why don't you knock off now and start fresh in the morning?"

Tony's lieutenant didn't wait for him to respond. Instead, Adam slapped his shoulder like it was decided and strode past him down the hall toward the squad room.

Well, hell
, Tony thought, watching him disappear around the corner. More free time to climb the walls wasn't what he'd been hoping for.

~

When Tony arrived at the brownstone a half hour later, he was shocked to discover Chris sitting on the front steps. The sun had set, and the light was on in the vestibule. Like most shifters Chris wasn't sensitive to cold. Though it was November, he wore cotton trousers and a light sport jacket. The simple button-down shirt that covered his big chest made it seem like he'd almost dressed up. He looked amazing--his 6'8" height, his gold-streaked hair, his running back's solid legs. Tony hardly knew what to stare at first; every part of Chris seemed designed to appeal to every part of him. In the end, he targeted Chris's eyes.