Page 36 of The Devil's Embrace

“Easy.” Anticipation thrummed through him and his balls drew up. “I’m going to torture a confession out of him.”

“There’s my little Killer. Always so heartless.”

“Tell me I’m pretty so I can come and win this thing.”

Mercy clucked his tongue. “Cheating so shamelessly now, are we? Yes, punishment and some retraining are definitely in order. Later. For now…” He flattened his tongue over Aodhan’s pulse point and then whispered directly into the shell of his ear, “You’re so pretty I had to make you mine so no one else could so much as dream of fucking this body ever again. Come for me, pretty Killer. Remind me who you belong to.”

Aodhan screamed as the second orgasm ripped through him, only processing moments later when he finally started to come down from the high that he’d managed to beat Calix out by a mere thirty seconds, if even.

“That was close,” Mercy teased, probably noticing the scowl on Aodhan’s face as he watched Calix lying there, the toy still protruding lewdly from his clenched cheeks.

“I’m going to win,” he swore. And not just because they both knew this was just another game—Mercy wanted Cal just as much as he did. Aodhan was going to win because it was in his nature. He bowed to one man and one man only, the one currently fucking his sloppy hole past the point of pleasure and into that uncomfortable state of overstimulation.

There was no way he was going to lose to the Detective.

Mercy wasn’t the only manipulative genius in the room, after all.

Chapter 11:

Calix swore under his breath and stared down at the spilled contents of the takeout container now frying on the hot asphalt of the hospital parking lot. They were still working with nothing and Troya had called to tell him he should meet up with Aodhan to see if anything else had happened once he’d left the party that night.

Eventually, Cal had told him some of the events, realizing staying quiet would only make him appear suspicious. He’d left out everything about the merman and the gruesome live mutilation, but had mentioned the masks and the weird aphrodisiac drug. Troya had joked that perhaps that was the reason Calix hadn’t wanted to share, and he’d let the Inspector believe what he wanted to.

Did that make him a bad person?

A man—with a tail—had been brutally tortured right in front of him, and not only had Cal sat there through it all, he hadn’t even reported it after the fact.

He wasn’t even sure he was planning on reporting it now, though he’d at least scheduled a meeting with Bruce, who was otherwise engaged with other crimes going on in the city. If he confessed to the chief what he’d witnessed, Aodhan would nodoubt be called in for questioning. There was no reason for Calix to want to prevent that, aside from the fact he’d saved him that night at the reunion.

Cal believed strongly in karma.

Which was why he was standing there, forlornly staring down at his ruined lunch when the director of the hospital snuck up on him.

“Unfortunate,” Titus Mercer’s voice was cool, like icy spring water on a hot summer day, and before he realized it, Calix’s body was reacting.

A shiver passed down his spine, and his gaze snapped over to where the older man was standing on the sidewalk. He’d seen photos of him in the hospital and in the information packet about the case, but the pictures hadn’t done him justice. Neither, apparently, had Cal’s memories because he was looking a thousand times better than even his recollections.

Titus was tall with silky black hair he’d styled in a side part. He had on a pair of thick rimmed glasses and eyes so green Cal felt like he was being swallowed up by a deep, dark forest the longer he gazed into them. His charcoal pants were pressed, and he had a brown suit jacket over a dark turtleneck.

The last time he’d stood before Titus, Calix had just been found not guilty in a crowded courtroom. He didn’t want to be reminded of that awful time. Didn’t want the weight of the things he’d done back then to crush him even more than they already did. That was another reason he’d jumped at the opportunity to go to the Academy. To escape the people who thought they knew him.

And the people who’d maybe gotten close enough to catch a glimpse.

“Aren’t you hot?” the words burst off his tongue, and he snapped his mouth shut too late to stop them.

The corner of Titus’s lips twitched, but otherwise, he gave no reaction.

“It’s just,” like an idiot, Calix pointed up at the sun blazing overhead, “it’s basically summer.”

“The hospital has impeccable air conditioning, I assure you.” The Director glanced pointedly at the food on the ground between them. “It appears you’ve lost your lunch, Detective.”

“It slipped out of my hand,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’m clumsy.”

For some reason, Titus found that funny and didn’t even attempt to hold back his grin, chuckling before adjusting his glasses.

Cal didn’t know what to say, so he just continued to stare while the other man laughed at him.

“Would you like to accompany me?” Titus offered then. “I was actually just on my way to the hospital’s cafeteria. You might be surprised to learn the food we offer isn’t half bad. Certainly better than,” he motioned to the spilled lunch again, “scooping that up and trying your luck.”

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