Page 4 of Equalizer
“We need to keep you both in fighting form, and a good dinner goes a long way toward that,” Winston replied, clearly pleased at the praise.
By agreement, they rarely talked about cases over meals unless the situation was dire. Winston made sure to pick up at least one newspaper at one of their stops throughout the day, and they competed to find the most interesting or unique tidbit to fuel their discussion.
Much of the news centered on the war with Spain or England’s battles in the Sudan. It became a challenge to find stories that weren’t related to either event to keep the conversation lively.
“It’ll be interesting to see what that new Antarctic expedition discovers,” Owen said. “Though I doubt we’ll hear anything for quite some time. I can’t imagine being at the very bottom of the world.”
“No thanks,” Calvin said. “What we do is risky enough. I have no desire to go somewhere entirely uncharted and freeze to death doing it.”
“Chicago in late Fall isn’t exactly toasty,” Owen pointed out.
Calvin gave him a look. “It’s not Antarctica.”
“Admit it—you’re curious,” Owen teased.
“Curious enough to read an article or visit a traveling exhibition when—if—they get back? Yes. But I see enoughstrange things every day in this job without going to the ends of the earth.” Calvin suppressed a shiver at the thought.
Winston refilled their drinks and served an apple pie for dessert. Calvin savored the smell of fruit and cinnamon mingled with the scent of fresh coffee. “You spoil us, Winston.”
“Nonsense. Hard work deserves good food,” Winston replied, although a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Calvin had worried that Winston might reveal his and Owen’s relationship to the authorities, which would get them fired and most likely jailed. To his relief, Winston supported them and kept their secret.
Winston was in his forties, about fifteen years older than Calvin and Owen, and a powerful witch and a skilled field medic, as well as a semi-retired field agent, chemist, and jack-of-all-trades. He played the part of their butler willingly, a ready cover for his presence. Winston stood a few inches short of six feet with a stocky build. His round face and spectacles gave him a bookish look, and gray tinged his beard and thinning brown hair.
Together the three men had proven to be comfortable traveling companions, taking on whatever unusual paranormal cases the SSS assigned them. After proving their mettle by thwarting vampires and stopping an attempt to open the gates of Hell, they had gained commendations and the notice of the top brass.
“In much less exciting news, there’s a new cola,” Calvin said, going back to their discussion of the news. “The inventor is calling it ‘Pepsi-Cola.’ Odd name, but I’d still try it if we happen upon a bottle. It’s got me curious.”
“You like all the soda fountain drinks,” Owen teased. “You’re like a kid with a sweet tooth.”
Calvin shrugged. “Something different to try that isn’t alcohol. It’s a nice change, but I don’t know that they’ll ever really catch on.”
“There’s a galvanism exhibition at the big university,” Winston remarked after a pause, keeping the conversation going. “I’m not sure how I feel about that type of thing, making severed hands and dead frogs twitch with electricity.”
“Pretty creepy,” Owen agreed. “But maybe something good will come of it. I’m not a fan of cutting up corpses, but doctors have learned a lot by doing it.”
“You two have a strange idea of suitable dinner conversation,” Calvin noted.
“We’re hardly polite company,” Owen smirked.
Winston shooed them out of the dining room once everyone was done eating, and they returned to the parlor for a nightcap of brandy. The train kept a steady speed to make up for lost time, and Calvin suspected their arrival wouldn’t be delayed much despite the circumstances.
Calvin and Owen returned to their books, sitting close in easy silence as the brandy put the finish to a fine meal.
“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Winston popped in to tell them. “If not, have a good night, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thank you, Winston,” Calvin replied.
“Goodnight,” Owen added. Minutes later they heard the snick of the door to Winston’s room. Owen tossed back the rest of his brandy and leaned toward Calvin.
“Ready to turn in?” He pressed a kiss to Calvin’s neck.
Calvin turned toward him, guiding Owen’s head with hands on either side until they were kissing on the lips. The kiss started light but quickly deepened.
They maintained separate rooms for deniability’s sake since they dared not admit the truth to any but a few trusted allies. Most of the time, Owen slept in Calvin’s room. While Winstonwillingly kept their secret, both men made sure to conduct themselves carefully in public. It helped that their roles as government agents kept them at a distance from most people and shrouded their lives in secrecy.
“Love you.” Calvin’s fingers traced Owen’s sharp cheekbones and then the curve of his lips.
