Page 41 of Sins of the Fathers
Dawson shrugged. “I saw a cabin in the woods—no idea where. Nothing special about it. A white SUV in an intersection. No license plate. Like I said—snippets. And since having a vision isn’t fun, it would be nice to get a dream that unlocks the next level,” he added, staying with the video game metaphor Grady used.
“I’ve never thought I had any extra abilities—unless you count hearing mountains sing,” Grady replied, deciding to bring up something that had been bothering him for a while. “But all the time we were growing up, Knox had a freaky way of knowing things sometimes that he shouldn’t have known. Dad used to yell at him for spying on people or going through their things, but I don’t think that was true. He justknew.”
“Some kind of psychic talent?” Dawson replied, holding Grady’s hand as they walked the last stretch of driveway toward the car.
“I guess that’s what you’d call it. Not exactly premonitions like your dreams, but just having information pop into his head that turned out to be true—that he shouldn’t have had any way of knowing,” Grady replied. “Dad didn’t want to deal with it, so Knox stopped asking questions. But I’ve always wondered…if he had some natural talent, and it got pushed down and ignored, could that have led to some of the other problems?”
Dawson let out a low whistle. “You mean like Knox was using the stuff he took to self-medicate? Make the ability go away?”
Grady nodded. “Yeah.”
Dawson shrugged. “I don’t know much about that sort of thing, but they say whatever you bottle up comes to the surface eventually.” He paused and frowned as if remembering something. “Back when I was hunting with Knox, before his accident, he used to have this weird ability to find things that were lost or hidden. I chalked it up to luck. But now I wonder—and I think you might be right.”
“Kings hunt monsters,” Grady replied as they reached the car. “We know the supernatural is real, but when it comes to magic or psychic abilities, people get skittish.” He shook his head. “Like Gibson and Tucker—a witch and a psychic. My dad would have been antsy about that. Not that he wouldn’t have accepted the help, but he wouldn’t have been completely comfortable with it.”
“And you think Knox picked up on that, so he hid what he could do?” Dawson asked as he turned the key and the Mustang’s engine revved to life.
“I think it’s possible. And if that’s what he did, then it was stupid. Magic or abilities are tools—like being good at math or having a gift for music. This is a dangerous business—having a little something extra on our side sure wouldn’t hurt.” Grady rubbed a hand over his ribs, unconsciously soothing the scars of the werewolf fight that claimed his father and nearly got him too.
“Maybe it’s time to have a conversation with Knox and let him know we’re okay with any abilities he wants to tell us about,” Dawson suggested. “Now that he’s sober, those ‘insights’ might start coming more often. I want to make sure he knows that he doesn’t have to hide.”
They drove home instead of to Denny’s place, needing some downtime before they had to be around people. Dawson called Denny to let them know they were safe and gave him a short recap with the promise of a more in-depth recounting when they came for dinner that night.
Sharing a shower gave Grady the chance to check his lover thoroughly for injuries, and Dawson returned the favor. As Grady had predicted, he’d have some bruises, but nothing serious. He knew they were both lucky and didn’t want to think about what might have happened without the amulets—or if the ghosts had succeeded in dragging him into the old hospital.
“Earth to Grady?” Dawson murmured and ran a soap-slick hand up and down Grady’s half-hard cock for emphasis.
“Hmm?”
“Oh, that got your attention,” Dawson said with a chuckle, shifting so that his stiff dick rode the cleft in Grady’s ass.
“Always. And the answer is yes.”
“Where did your brain wander when my hand was on your prick?”
“Probably wondering when you’re going to deliver what you’re promising,” Grady replied, pulling himself out of his thoughts and trying not to darken the mood.
Despite great pressure and a nearly endless hot water supply, shower sex didn’t last long. Dawson rutted between Grady’s ass cheeks while he reached around to get Grady off. The water sluiced away the evidence, leaving them warm, clean, and relaxed.
“I wish we could just go to bed and stay there,” Grady murmured once they were dry and dressed. “We’ve earned it.”
“Yeah, me too,” Dawson agreed. “But Denny hates being stood up when he’s expecting us—can’t blame him—and I’m sure whatever he’s making is better than what I’m motivated to cook.”
“And we owe him a report and our suspicions about the amulets,” Grady supplied.
Dawson’s phone rang, and he glanced at the name. “Gibson,” he told Grady before he answered the call, putting it on speaker.
“We’ve got something new,” Gibson told him. “Are you available?”
“Diner?” Dawson suggested.
“Not the kind of stuff we should discuss in public,” Gibson replied. “Your place or our cabin?”
Dawson shot a look at Grady. “We can be at your place in fifteen minutes. That okay? We’ve got dinner plans.”
Grady tried not to snicker. Dawson made it sound fancy. Denny would be flattered.
“Can do. We’ve got coffee and donuts. Investigations don’t happen without them,” Gibson joked. “Better hurry or Tucker will eat all the good ones.”
