“When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it.” He leaned forward, assaulting Angel’s mouth with a bruising, possessive kiss. His tongue invaded, claiming the depths of Angel he wished he never gave over to Mark. He pulled Angel up by his hair, and Angel bit down a scream as he scrambled to his feet. Mark knew Angel was tender headed and used that knowledge to control Angel even more. “Now, Strip!”

  Tears flowed down Angel’s face as he removed his clothes, peeling off the wrinkled shirt, his slacks. Angel paused at his underwear, hating to be exposed to Mark even though they had been together for years.

  Mark waited, sipping his drink.

  Angel pulled off his underwear.

  He stood naked before Mark, hands covering his cock and balls. Mark breathed in deep like he could smell Angel’s fear and relished in it.

  “Follow me.”

  Mark’s bedroom was even more sterile than his living room, it looked to have been staged for a viewing. Mark stripped out of his clothes, folding them neatly on the chair in the corner. When he turned, he was hard, and he stroked a hand over his erection as he made his way over to the bed. He laid back, placing his other hand behind his head.

  “Come fuck me.”

  Angel walked slowly to the bed, his feet dragging into the carpet. He climbed on, positioning himself over Mark’s cock. “Lube?” He had stopped asking for a condom months ago; Mark didn’t even keep them in the apartment anymore.

  Mark glared. “Fuck the lube. You know I prefer spit.” His fingers squeezed Angel’s thigh. “It makes me feel closer to you.”

  Angel shuddered, already anticipating the pain he’ll be in the following day. He spit into his hand, working it over Mark’s cock and his own hole.

  Breathe, he reminded himself as he lowered onto Mark.

  The burn is unlike anything, the most intense pain, but Angel didn’t make a sound. If Mark knew it hurt, he would only enjoy it more. Angel wanted to scream and cry out. He bit his cheek to keep every feeling in.

  When he was fully lowered, he gave himself a moment to breathe, but Mark didn’t allow that.

  “Move,” he demanded.

  “One minute,” Angel said, breathless, exhausted.

  But Angel began to rock slowly, unwillingly. He looked up at the ceiling, the window, anywhere but Mark’s face. Angel’s cock was soft, but that didn’t matter to Mark. His hands gripped Angel’s waist painfully, bringing him to a stop.

  “Fuck me like you mean it.”

  Angel moved faster, but still didn’t look at Mark. Out the window he could see the lights of Albuquerque, and they acted as a distraction as Mark drilled up into Angel. His fingers gripped Angel’s waist even more, digging into the bones, and Angel released a moan, one Mark took as pleasure and not pain.

  “You like that, baby?”

  Angel didn’t answer.

  Mark kept fucking up into him, whispering, “You’re mine. You’re mine,” until finally he came. Angel flinched as seed exploded inside of him.

  Angel rolled off of him, groaning as Mark’s softening cock slipped from his sore ass. He headed to the bathroom.

  “Where are you going?” Marks asked, downing the rest of his whiskey.

  “Gotta pee,” Angel answered, shutting the door behind him.

  He turned on the water and grabbed a wad of toilet paper to clean as much of the cum from between his ass cheeks as he could. But he wouldn’t be able to feel really clean until he got to take a shower and curl up in his own bed and cry.

  He looked into the mirror, which was a huge mistake. He looked miserable. A new cut dripped blood from his lip onto his chin. He tried to smile, to encourage himself to be strong, but instead it looked like a grimace.

  He flushed the wad of toilet paper and exited the bathroom.

  Mark slept, and Angel took that as his opportunity to leave. He put a note next to the empty whiskey glass with an excuse about his grandma.

  He walked out the door with shirt half way buttoned and shoes in his hands.

  Chapter Eight

  Dex

  Dex woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He slept lightly anyway; he had not been able to get a deep sleep since Talia died.

  He woke alert, and with his mouth feeling like he ate a handful of cotton balls. It was stale and filmy from the round of beers he had at the bar with Damon. He smiled at the memory of the adorable, timid dragon shifter. Damon was sweet, and Dex had been surprised to hear he was a dragon. Dragons were usually hotheaded, egotistical, the typical alpha male. They were dominant and intimidating; Damon was everything but.

  “What?” he said into the phone.

  “There’s another body,” a male voice replied. It’s someone Dex didn’t know, an agent from sector B. They handled the calls that came through WatchTower, and told the Sector A agents where to go.

  “Thanks.”

  Dex hung up, and pulled on a pair of slacks and a blue button up. He forwent the tie, and pulled his long hair pack with the purple scrunchie that had once belonged to Kaya.

  The agent sent him the coordinates.

  Before he left his two story stucco home, he called his team to tell them to meet him on the corner of Lomas and 12th.

  Dex tried to catch up on sleep as his car auto-drove through the empty streets, but found it impossible.

  Police tape sectioned off the crime scene, an empty parking lot in front of a closed grocery store. His team was already assessing the scene with WatchTower forensics. A few other agents and Hunters were standing on the sidelines, and Dex frowned, praying they hadn’t fucked with his crime scene.

  “What do we have?” He asked, kneeling beside Angel.

  Angel’s lip was busted and he looked exhausted. Dex’s protective nature went haywire, wanting to scoop him up and hug him until everything was better, while also finding the thing that hurt him and destroying it.

  “Female. Mid-twenties. WTF estimates she’s been dead for forty-six to fifty hours.” Angel paused to wipe blood from his lip. “A Wanda Specman found the victim when she stopped in the parking lot due to car trouble.”

  He pointed to an elderly woman with a small chihuahua in her arms, but Dex didn’t give a shit about Wanda. He took Angel’s chin in his hand, gently tilting his head left and right.

  “What happened to your face?”

  “It’s stupid.” He pulled his face from Dex hands, blush creeping up his cheeks. He averted his gaze to something over Dex’s shoulder. Mark and Astrid had arrived. Angel scooted further away from Dex. “Can we just focus on work?”

  That hot, burning feeling erupted in Dex’s gut. Something was very wrong. He couldn’t just ignore his uneasy feeling and Angel’s cut lip. He had to do something.

  But what? Dex wasn’t sure.

  Dex pushed the burning in his stomach down for the moment and focused on the dead woman. “Do we have an I.D.?”

  “No. Her wallet, purse, everything was taken,” a man with black hair and vivid blue eyes pulled the plastic sheeting back from the woman’s face.

  Pink hair tangled in knots, and blood coated her entire face, but Dex could make out enough of her features to know who she was.

  He sucked in a breath, a sour taste settled at the back of his throat. “Her name is Piper Carpenter.”

  Dex felt nauseous. As lead on the case he was tasked with informing her family or coven, but Piper had none of those things. She only had Damon.

  Dex was about to ruin the great night they had shared.

  “I’ll have a full autopsy report by the end of the week,” Dr. Pellman said, marking notes off on the tablet he carried. “There looks to be a sign of struggle. There’s residue under her fingernails, and we found that symbol carved behind her ear.”

  “Thanks, Richard.”

  Dex stood and stretched, already dreading the next part of his job. He turned to Angel, who had been keeping a safe distance from the rest of the group, but eyeing Mark and Astrid warily.

  “Angel?” Dex called out to him. When wide brown eyes swung his way, he smiled, softening his tone. “Come with me. The rest of you head back to headquarters. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  “Sure thing, Boss,” Jaden remarked, spitting a wad of S-tobac outside of the perimeter. “Is it cool if I go with Dr. P to do the autopsy?”

  “Sure.” As Jaden hitched a ride back to WatchTower with the Forensics team, Dex turned to the rest of his unit. “Leo, head to missing persons and tell them we found Piper Carpenter. Mark, Astrid, take Mrs. Specman to WatchTower and get a statement.”

  “Maybe Angel should come with us,” Mark challenged. “He looks like he could use a nap in the Overnight Room.”

  “I think Angel should stick with me.”

  “Why?”

  Cause you’re a piece of shit. “Are you challenging my authority, Aragon?”

  Mark smirked and crossed his arms. “I just think it’s a little off that you picked Angel to be your partner twice in one day.”

  “Felix’s notes say that Angel is the best to have at your back, and that’s all this is.”

  Angel flinched and blinked slowly at Dex’s words before turning and heading to his car. Dex had left it unlocked so Angel climbed into the passenger seat.

  Dex took two strides, getting in Mark’s face. “If you have a problem with the way I am running things, then feel free to transfer to a new team. I have no room for alpha wannabes on my unit.”

  Mark’s eyes narrowed, and he looked ready to punch Dex. Astrid took his elbow, pulling him away. “Come on,” she hissed. “Punching the Unit Leader is grounds for suspension.”

  “Dex!” Angel called from the car. “Let’s go!” Fear laced his voice.

  Dex turned, walking to his car, still fuming. The uneasy feeling in his gut churned like a stormy sea.

  After climbing in, Dex set his navigation to auto-drive to Damon’s apartment.

  When Supes registered in the WatchTower database all of their information from their favorite color to what their great-great-great grandparents got up to as hobbies was added to the system. With just a click of a button any WatchMan or Hunter could know every single detail about a Supe’s life. Most of the time Dex found the technology useful, but he also found it to be an invasion of Supe privacy.

  “How did you know the vic’s name?” Angel asked.

  “A...friend knows her.”

  “A friend?” Something strained in his voice.

  Dex looked at him. Angel was curled up on the passenger seat, knees pulled to his chin. His fingers tugged at his lip as he thought.

  “Stop. You’re going to make it bleed again.”

  Angel licked his lip, turning to Dex. “Why do you keep asking me to be your partner?”

  “I meant what I said. Felix left notes in each one of your files about personality, favorite candy, food, beverage, who he thought could win in a fight, who always had his back. You were at the top of his list.” Dex paused, cleared his throat. “Plus, I like having you around.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “I know enough to know that I like being around you.”

  Angel went silent, but Dex could feel him smiling.

  After a few moments Angel whispered, “I like being around you too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Angel

  Dex appeared nervous as they climbed out of the Helio-SUV. He fidgeted, and kept looking back at Angel as if he was expecting judgement.

  “Who lives here?” Angel asked, looking at the cracked stucco and the dirty, green pool they walked past.

  Dex’s returning smile was shy. “I told you. A friend.”

  They stopped in front of apartment 1D, and Dex knocked on the door. It was so late, Angel doubted anyone would be awake. The entire complex was quiet.

  Dex knocked again.

  After a few moments there was a small crash from inside and a shout of pain. Lights turned on and the door swung open, revealing a beautiful, sleep rumpled man with dark hair.

  Angel blinked, stunned. It was the guy from the coffee shop.

  “Dex? What are you doing here?’

  The man looked confused and afraid, edging slightly behind the door.

  It was never good news when a WatchMan showed up at your house in the middle of the night.

  “Can we come in, Damon?”

  Damon blinked, his gaze turning to Angel, blinking as if he just noticed another person standing in his doorway. He ran a hand through his short, black hair. “Don’t I know you?” He asked, stepping aside to let Angel and Dex in.

  “Coffee shop about three weeks ago. You let me cut in front of you.”

  Damon nodded. “Right, the cute jogger. Of course you’re WatchTower too.”

  Angel blushed at the compliment.

  The living room was small with only a couch, a small table holding an out of date holo-TV and a beat up game console. Small pictures were framed everywhere--not the kind that were short videos and were projected through hologram--these were still pictures that blinked in and out of focus due to the obsolete technology. Each one was of Damon and the woman with pink hair.

  Angel swallowed. He knew what it was like to have only one person in the world that you cared about more than life itself, and if anyone told him his grandmother had been murdered…

  “Sit down, Damon,” Dex commanded in a gentle but firm tone.

  The dragon shook his head a little as he sunk onto the couch, but before he fully planted his ass on the seat he jumped up. “Do you guys want drinks? Water? Juice?’

  Angel felt a strong urge to reach out and hug Damon, to protect him from the bad news he was about to hear.

  “We’re okay,” Angel whispered.

  Dex stood by the wall, close to Damon. “Damon,” he paused, running a hand over his chin, “we found Piper.”

  “Oh?” Hope rose in the dragon’s winter eyes. “Is she alive?”

  Dex looked at Angel for assistance. He went to the couch to sit next to Damon, close enough to offer comfort, but not so close that he was invading his personal space. “Damon,” Angel started, but the word stuck in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to be the one that ripped the sweet dragon’s world apart. He looked at Dex.

  After a few moments of tense silence, Damon asked, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” He pulled a pillow form the back of the couch, and hugged it. “Isn’t she?”

  Angel scooted closer. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  Silent tears flowed down Damon’s face. “Was it the killer? The one everyone’s talking about?”

  Dex cleared his throat. “We don’t have all the details yet.”

  Damon nodded, but looked defeated. “Is that all?”

  Angel clenched his fists to keep from reaching out and pulling Damon into a hug. In the five years he had been with WatchTower he had broken awful news to many families and loved ones, but never had he felt such a desperate need to comfort one of them.

  Damon reached for one of the framed pictures, whispering something over and over under his breath.

  “Damon, are you going to be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he replied, but his focus was elsewhere. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Dex and Angel looked at each other, each unsure of what to do. Technically, their jobs were finished, but they couldn’t bear to leave the dragon in this state.

  Dex took up Damon’s phone. “I’m putting my number in here. Call me if you need anything.”

  What Dex was doing was illegal. If WatchTower found out he could be suspended or worse, fired. Angel admired the man.

  “Put mine in there too, Dex.” Angel looked down at Damon to see him watching them. “If you need anything at all, you give one of us a call. We’ll come, even if it’s four in the morning and all you want to do is talk.”

  Damon nodded, and went back to looking at the picture of him and Piper.

  ★ ☆ ★

  The next few days were quiet. No fresh leads popped up about the Supe Killer. Mark had been nicer than usual; Angel gave it three more days until he turned back to normal. Dex was on edge, and Angel felt the same. He kept looking at his phone, waiting for Damon to call. But Angel didn’t have high hopes that he would. Why would he call two virtual strangers?

  But Angel couldn’t help the worry. What if he did something drastic?

  Angel slid his tray onto the plastic table in the WatchTower cafeteria. The building was nearly empty, it was after seven, and most of the people had gone home for the day. Angel couldn’t bring himself to leave. He had been pouring over witness reports, autopsy reports, anything to find Piper’s killer.

  Piper’s autopsy brought no new information. There were no fibers on her body, no fingerprints at the crime scene. The gunk under her nails was left over residue from a spell she casted before she disappeared.

  Angel wanted nothing more than to help bring peace to Damon.

  Why do I care so much? Angel didn’t have an answer for that. There was something about Damon that screamed at Angel to solve this problem for him, to protect him. Which amused Angel, considering Damon was a dragon.

  “You’re still here?”

  Dex held a tray filled with salad, a burger, chocolate cake and coffee. He smiled down at Angel, which did funny things to Angel’s insides. He stamped down the feeling; it was not a good time to start feeling shit for his boss.

  “Yeah,” Angel scrubbed a hand down his face, “been pouring over notes.”

  “You look like crap,” he remarked, pouring sugar into his coffee. The purple scrunchie on his wrist caught Angel’s eye. He wanted to ask about it, but knew the item was personal to Dex, and didn’t want to bring up painful memories. “When’s the last time you slept?”

  “I got a good three hours last night?”

  Dex snorted. “Better than my two.”

  “I’m worried about Damon,” Angel admitted, tearing his dinner roll to pieces. “I can’t shake the look in his eyes when we told him Piper died.”

 

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