Summoner of Storms (18 page)

A brief flash of pain, one claw breaking skin
and scratching hard enough to draw blood. It would have hurt under
any other circumstances, but at the moment John was too turned on
to feel anything but excitement. Especially when Gray let out a low
growl and darted in, lips sealing around the small wound.

Fuck. John tried to rub against Gray’s thigh,
but Gray held him in place, strong and powerful. The drakul moaned
against his skin, cock stiffening back to full attention, leaving a
slick trail across John’s belly.

With a gasp, Gray pulled back. Energy
shifted, growing muted, and Caleb blinked brown eyes at John. A
sexy grin shaped his lips, and he shifted against John, rubbing
their pricks together. “Ready for round two, Starkweather?”

“Oh hell yes.”

* * *

“Lie down with your ass lined up with the
edge of the bed,” Caleb ordered. John hurried to comply, his heart
beating so loud he heard it in his ears. Caleb watched, stroking
his cock idly. “Mmm. You look good like this. All exposed and
waiting for me.”

John nodded. “Yeah, baby. I want you.”

“You’ll have me. Eventually.”

An involuntary whimper escaped John. “I
haven’t come yet. Unlike some people.”

Caleb just winked at him. “You like to be
teased and you know it.” He went to the pile of their things,
bending over and giving John a nice view of his ass while he
rummaged around for the lube. Returning to the bed, he set the lube
aside, then went down on his knees on the floor between John’s
legs. His hot breath ghosted over John’s balls, and a slow lick up
his shaft left John gasping.

“Not sure how much I can take, babe,” he
warned. “You’ve got me pretty worked up.”

Caleb’s tongue traced back down, swirling
around his balls, sucking on first one, then the other. He dipped
lower, wet heat tracing the edge of John’s hole. John closed his
eyes and relaxed, giving himself over to the sensations as Caleb
licked and pressed lightly with the tip of his tongue. He moaned
encouragement.

There came the soft pop of the cap on the
lube. A moment later, Caleb replaced his tongue with a finger. “I
like watching my body disappear in yours,” Caleb said. “Especially
my cock.”

“Yes, please,” was all the answer John could
articulate.

Caleb took his time, slowly teasing in and
out with one finger, then two. He occasionally gave John’s cock a
single languid stroke with his other hand. Before too long, it was
everything John could do not to writhe right off the end of the
bed. “You’re killing me here.”

“So impatient,” Caleb teased. But he rose to
his feet and grabbed the lube again, smearing a generous amount
over his prick. John’s throat tightened with anticipation, and he
moaned when Caleb pressed against him, working in nice and slow. So
good, the stretch and slide, and he clutched the sheets to keep
from just grasping his cock and jacking off right there.

Caleb made a small sound of pleasure when he
was all the way in. Gripping John’s hips, he leaned over and
started to move. Every thrust sent a shudder of need through John,
driving him higher and higher. Caleb’s long hair tumbled forward,
brushing his thighs, belly, aching cock.

“Goddess, yes, babe, keep going, give it to
me.” John babbled now, brain short circuiting.

“Take it,” Caleb growled, hips moving faster.
The echo of Gray under his words, just as there was always an echo
of Caleb beneath Gray’s. The world came apart around John, nothing
but pleasure and heat, Caleb’s hair and wicked grin, brown eyes
drinking in the sight of John under him. “Tell us you want it.”

“Yes! I want it!”

Caleb’s head snapped back, his groan of
pleasure suddenly deeper, hair coming to life around him, claws
digging into John’s hips. John grabbed his aching cock, not able to
stand it another second, barely two tugs before he was coming too.
Hot spunk splashed on his chest, and the flare of energy sparked
along his nerves, like a cascade of stars.

Caleb laughed softly and slid free.
“Damn.”

“Huh. Yeah.” John flung out his arm, and
Caleb crawled up to snuggle in beside him. They both smelled of
sweat and jizz, a trace of ozone whispering of Gray’s presence.

“Love you,” Caleb murmured, pressing his lips
lightly to John’s chest.

John hugged him in return. “Love you guys,
too. More than anything.”

* * *

Caleb perched at the edge of a faux widow’s
walk, a bit of decorative nonsense added to one of the enormous
houses used as rental properties on Isle of Palms. As far as he
knew, traditional Charleston architecture didn’t even have the
widow’s walks common in New England—certainly he hadn’t noticed any
while wandering around town over the last few months. And even if
they did, this house couldn’t be more than twenty years old. No
poor woman had paced this iron-railed balcony while peering out to
the Atlantic, wondering if any of her husbands would return from
the sea. Or if any of them would inconveniently return from the sea
at the same time and create an awkward situation.

Or hell, maybe the old-time sailors were
pragmatic enough to realize a woman in every port equaled a husband
on every ship, and looked the other way. Or even joined in the
fun.

Speaking of which.

Caleb bumped his hip against the man sharing
his perch. “You doing okay?”

John seemed to catch onto what he meant,
because he cast Caleb a grin. “A little sore, but it was worth it
just for the great sex.”

They’d woken up with the dawn, after a
restless night, knowing it all came down to the next twenty-four
hours. John suggested a shower together, which ended up with Gray
boning him again beneath the pounding spray.

“
We will face demons tonight. He will need
to be prepared.”

Right. That was your only motive. You’re a
real martyr for the cause.

Caleb pressed a kiss into John’s hair.
“Thanks for hanging out with me this afternoon. I’d have been bored
to death up here with only Gray to talk to.”

They currently occupied a rental property
still empty for the season, with no connection to the Vigilant.
Tiffany found the house online the night before and put out the
call to everyone she could still reach. Given the possibility of
someone being compromised, as soon as they’d disabled the alarm
system and let themselves in, she’d ordered him up here. Keeping an
eye out for snipers, or people lingering longer than they should,
or hell even staring too long out the window of one of the nearby
houses. Meanwhile, those she’d summoned arrived in dribs and drabs,
mostly by car but also via boats tied up to the private dock out
back.

John shrugged. “There wasn’t much for me to
do downstairs with Tiffany, except get in the way. And I’d rather
keep you company.”

Not to mention Sean was downstairs, and John
clearly didn’t want any more contact with his former friend than
absolutely necessary. To be fair, neither did Caleb. Or Gray.

Think of the devil and he’ll appear, because
the glass door leading onto the walk swung open, and Sean stuck out
his head. “Tiffany says we’re ready. Come on down.”

Anticipation rippled through Gray. And why
not? There would be demons to snack on for damn sure.

“
And we will put an end to this Forsyth
mortal and return home with John. Everything will be as it
should.”

Well, it was nice to think, even though it
didn’t seem too likely. And who knew? Maybe it would happen. They
had to hope for something, right?

“What do you think will happen?” he asked
John softly as they started for the door. Sean had already departed
back down the stairs. “I mean...after tonight?”

John paused and turned to him. Lifted his
hand and touched Caleb’s face, a gentle caress to go along with a
wry smile. “I don’t know, babe. Just concentrate on the action in
front of us. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

“Yeah.” But as John started to pull away,
Caleb grabbed his hand to stop him. “I just wanted to say I...well.
This whole situation has been crazy. Nothing about our relationship
is what anyone would call normal. And maybe I’m nuts, but I
wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

John’s smile bloomed brighter. He tugged
Caleb closer, until their thighs touched. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

John’s mouth tasted sweet against his, lips
hungry and urgent. The swirl of their tongues, familiar yet unique
every time. Caleb had never been in a real relationship before,
certainly never imagined he’d fall for a Spec. Most definitely had
not imagined he’d be doing it with another person taking up space
in his head.

But it had been good. And the thought of
losing it, losing John, scared him so bad he didn’t even want to
contemplate the possibility.

John led the way down to the living room on
the lowest floor of the massive house. They’d dragged all of the
furniture out of the huge room, leaving plenty of space for the
gathering. He glimpsed Tiffany’s father, some of the other Vigilant
who escaped from the attack on the safe house, and a number of
others he didn’t recognize.

Among them stood Kaniyar, a bit worse for
wear with a bandage on her forehead, stark white against the smooth
bronze of her skin. Pittman waited at her side, and arrayed around
them...

SPECTR agents. People he knew from the
Charleston office, and some he didn’t, probably from the other
district offices, which had reported to Kaniyar. Most of them
appeared grim or even scared, dressed in suits or guard uniforms or
scavenged body armor.

He stopped. Noticing his surprise, Kaniyar
nodded casually at him. “I put out the call,” she said, like it was
nothing. “Gathered up agents loyal to SPECTR’s true mission instead
of Forsyth or the director.”

John swallowed against a constriction in his
throat. Maybe it was his heart, because it suddenly felt too big to
be contained by his chest. “Thank you, ma’am.” He looked past her
to the other agents, made eye contact with some of them. Rand, the
empath, Kaniyar’s secretary Edward, hell even old Victor from
records. “I’m glad to see you here.”

Which was a fucking understatement. Because
he’d forgotten. He’d let himself believe SPECTR was nothing more
but a cynical grab for power. Something corrupt all the way to the
bone. And maybe parts of it were, but the bulk of the agency was
this: ordinary men and women doing the best they could. Trying to
help people. Even if that meant putting their lives on the line,
whether from NHEs or their own agency.

Although Kaniyar’s presence did bring up a
question. “Who’s in charge here?” Tiffany might straddle the line
between Vigilant and SPECTR, but senior agents wouldn’t listen to
her just because a bunch of civilians called her
la
capitaine
.

“I am,” Kaniyar said. “This action needs some
kind of legitimacy, which it won’t have if the Vigilant are in
charge.”

Tiffany nodded reluctantly. “This is
technically a SPECTR op. Against itself.”

“
However,
” Kaniyar added, with a glare
to the agents, “in light of the Vigilant’s expertise, I am
temporarily deputizing everyone present to act under my authority.
Not to mention they’ve provided a very large amount of ammunition,
the source of which none of us are going to question.”

From his position against the wall, Tiffany’s
father Devon tipped an imaginary hat to Kaniyar. Which explained
what he’d been up to since they’d gone their separate ways.

“Agent Ward will direct her operatives as she
sees fit. I trust we will all conduct ourselves as a professional
machine.”

“Here’s the plan.” Tiffany indicated an
oversized sketch of Fort Sumter tacked on the wall where everyone
could see. John and Caleb moved closer to peer at it, along with
Kaniyar and some of the senior agents and Vigilant. “For those who
don’t know, Fort Sumter takes up most of the islet is sits on. The
fort itself is pentagonal, with three sides dropping almost
straight into the water. There the fourth side has a large
entrance, but it faces the dock, which is narrow enough to turn
into a shooting gallery if we try to come in through there. Which
leaves the fifth side.”

She pointed at the rough map. “Here’s where
we get lucky. Over time, a sand bar has formed between Fort Sumter
and James Island. The sand bar happens to be on the same side of
the fort as the old sally port and original dock. This section of
wall is much lower than the rest, and pretty much the only place we
have a hope of getting in.”

John nodded. He vaguely recalled having
visited the fort in middle school history class, but any memory of
its layout was long gone. “Handy.”

“We run the boats up on the sand bar,”
Tiffany went on. “Go on foot through the marshy area, then hit the
wall with grapples and ladders. Once there, the first rank will lay
down suppressing fire while the rest go over. Just below the outer
wall is a series of low brick walls, which will give some cover,
but could also break a leg if you’re not careful. There are old
casements complete with cannons, and damaged walls to the left,
which are going to be a bitch if they’re full of demons.”

“Any guesses where Forsyth will be?” Caleb
asked.

“Here.” Kaniyar said, indicating a spot on
the map. “The Soviet summoning in Forsyth’s files relies on a
pentagram. As a pentagon, the fort lends itself perfectly to the
ritual. At a guess, the main sigils will be placed on the outer
walls at each point.”

The hair on the back of John’s neck tried to
stand up. “Shit. Are you saying the entire fort is a giant
summoning circle?”

Kaniyar nodded. “It would almost have to be,
if what we think we know about drakul is accurate.”