10. The Courting of Morgan Fell

09.14.203 UI

The weekend arrived several days after their meeting with Theresa. Daphne poured over book after book in the library, preparing for her looming Adept examination. Shane stayed close to her, studying the growing pile of material that Morgan had assigned him. He was more than glad to follow instruction, however, now as a legitimate member of the coven. The gratitude he had heaped on Morgan had been expected, but then he went in for a hug.

“Rule number one,” Daphne had said as Morgan retreated into his room, “Do not hug Morgan.”

Frey flitted about the Manor for hours on end, randomly lifting their fingers and making humming noises as they peered at either Daphne, Shane, or Morgan with one eye open, before nodding and leaving the room. And Morgan had scarcely been seen, save small appearances to grab a bite to eat or to go to and from the roof. It was late afternoon when he came in through the front door, covered head to toe in dirt and dust.

Daphne almost choked on the sandwich she was scarfing down while she studied in an armchair beside the balcony window. “What happened? Who’s dead?”

Morgan laughed heartily, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Oh, my gods, calm down! I’m just... doing some party prep. You know, for the Harkening.”

Daphne eyed him warily. “You came in through the front door, though. Morgan, we cannot fit the entire occult community on the roof. I know how much you love it up there, but-”

“Not the roof.” Morgan chuckled as Daphne narrowed her stare. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it sorted. It’s a surprise.”

Daphne continued glaring. “My suspicions intensify, Morgan Fell.”

He shook his head, grinning as he walked to his room, downing the bottle of water before sending it flying into the kitchen bin. He snatched a few potions from his cabinet, throwing back the contents and dropping the empty vials into the basket below. He was drained, mentally and magically, from his little project. He fell backward onto his bed with a light thump. The potions worked their way through him, a pleasant buzz running through his veins that relaxed his body and mind.

Bright, blue eyes and tanned skin drifted into his thoughts. The vulnerable look on Aaron’s face when he asked him on a date. The goofy smile he wore when Morgan dropped his act, agreeing to help him with the rift. That scent of citrus and sandalwood filled his mind, and he imagined what it would be like to inhale with his face buried in Aaron’s chest. The navy of Aaron’s uniform dissolved in his fever dream, leaving nothing but bare skin. He could almost imagine the warmth of being held there, safe in the man’s arms. His thoughts drifted lower, and a gentle hum filled his ears.

He stood amongst a stone room with wooden support beams. Torches lit as the sun set beyond the embrasures. His muscles were weak with fatigue, and his skin was coated with dirt. He glimpsed the sight of taught muscle, glistening with sweat from across the room. Nimble fingers loosened the bindings at their waist, trousers hit the floor, and he stared in awe at the firm cheeks that had been hidden beneath. His blood heated in his veins, and the man turned.

Morgan’s eyes snapped open. His face was flushed, and his groin ached as his already tight jeans were stretched to their limit. His breathing steadied as he reconnected with reality. These visions, these brief moments of his past life, were really starting to affect him, but none of it made any sense.

“Morgan, you have a-”

“What? Nothing!” he stammered as Daphne came into the room, snatching up a pillow to hide the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, gods, you could at least close the door-” She ducked to the side with a giggle as another pillow went soaring at her face. “I’d hold off on the self-abuse. You have a visitor.”

Morgan groaned to his feet, his pants loosening from his shock at the intrusion and the news of yet more company. He was grateful his potions had already done their job. It was as if his small reprieve had been more like a four-hour nap. “Remember when it was just you, me and blissful silence?” he whined, trudging into Daphne’s office, “When did all of these people come into our lives?”

Daphne rolled her eyes, pulling up the cameras to the lower levels. “Relax, it’s not a job. Well, maybe not that kind of job.” She gave him a wink, and he contorted his face before turning to the screen.

The wind left his chest.

On the ground floor, right outside the elevator, dressed in a pressed, white button down and black slacks, with his golden hair styled to perfection, was Aaron Jones. He bounced on his heels as he fiddled with the call buttons, that hopeful smile visible on the side of his face. Morgan’s heart suddenly threatened to tear itself in two—one piece in the direction of safety and solitude, and the other straight down the elevator into Aaron’s arms.

Daphne gently gripped his shoulder. “Morgan baby, I know you’re scared. I know you don’t let people get close, and I know you have a hard time letting people get to know you because you worry that you don’t even know yourself. But you can’t keep holding onto that nothingness inside. You have the rest of forever ahead of you, sweetie. Try to fill some of it with a little bit of happiness.”

Morgan closed his eyes, trying not to fight her words. He wasn’t scared—he was fucking terrified. He didn’t know who he was. Not really. And now these memories were seeping in, little by little. What if he took a chance? What if he let Aaron get close, and the truth came crashing down around them? What if Aaron got hurt? Or worse?

“You know how to open the elevator from here.” Daphne released his shoulder, patting his back before leaving the room.

Morgan focused on his breathing as he watched the cameras. The man seemed so determined, nudging the elevator door. He moved to the stairwell and gave the door a tug, but it didn’t move. Morgan had fused it shut after Lexi had found her way up. Aaron leaned against the frame of the elevator, hung his head, and sighed.

Morgan’s insides clenched suddenly at the idea that Aaron might give up and turn around. Without even thinking, he leapt forward, striking the button on Daphne’s keyboard to open the elevator. Aaron turned to the camera and smiled wide, filling Morgan’s chest with warmth.

Then the warmth turned to panic.

What are you thinking? What does Aaron even want? Is he on duty? No, that’s not his uniform.Morgan growled, remembering that he was covered in dirt. You should go shower and change. No, Aaron doesn’t need to think you were just ready and waiting for him.

He never agreed to a date.

Did you? No. You told him you don’t date. You drove away laughing. Wow, dick move, le Fay. But who does this guy think he is, showing up unannounced to whisk you away?Oh, calm down. You don’t even know what he wants.

He heard the front door open and close, and he took a steadying breath before striding from the office.

Aaron crouched on the balls of his feet, petting Glimmer as she rubbed against every part of him she could reach, purring incessantly. Morgan leaned against the wall, watching him love on her. He knew anyone Glimmer treated like that was someone he could trust.

Irritating.

“Something I can help you with, Officer Jones? Or did you need the invoice for my work the other day?” Morgan teased.

Aaron glanced up in surprise. He ran his eyes up and down Morgan, a look of concern spreading across his face. “Are you... okay?”

Morgan glanced down at his work-stained clothes. “Oh this? You should see the other guy.”

Aaron’s brows jumped at the joke.

“I’m kidding, geez. Just a bit of remodeling.” He threw his hands up. “No killing, maiming, or crime of any sort, sir.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, standing. “Not on duty, Morgan. I... well, I had the night off and I was hoping you might... reconsider my offer?” He clutched the back of his neck, looking lost and innocent, making Morgan’s pulse skyrocket.

Morgan shook his head with a soft chuckle. “You are awfully insistent, Officer Jones. I told you. I don’t date.”

“I heard what you said.” Aaron cocked his head to the side, shoving his hands into his pockets.

This guy’s charm is going to kill you. Is he even aware that he’s being this fucking adorable?

“But... I also see the way you look at me. Lexi says it’s the same way I look at you; like maybe there’s something worth living for in this messed up place. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you’ve gone to bat for me twice now regardless of that and-” He released a breath. His eyes shifted beneath furrowed brows, searching for the words. “I just want a chance to know you, Morgan—the real you.”

Morgan’s insides ached at Aaron’s vulnerable honesty, like being hit with a cannonball to the gut—a gorgeous, blue-eyed, sweet-talking cannonball. Morgan sighed, shaking his head to settle his mind. “Aaron, I-”

Aaron threw up his hands in surrender. “It’s okay. I just... I had to try. One last time.” He turned to the door, the hope in his eyes gone and the light in his smile extinguished.

And there it was again. That twist in Morgan’s gut at the idea of him leaving, followed by the same knee-jerk reaction. “Wait!”

Aaron turned back to him with big eyes, the light blazing back to life on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah... Just-” Morgan took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. “Give me a few minutes. You can make yourself comfortable. I’ll be quick.”

The smile Aaron gave him threatened to melt him from the inside. He forced himself to tear his eyes away before he went blind, running to his room as calmly as he could, though he was certain he still looked like an over-excited teenager. He nearly knocked Daphne over in the hall and she must’ve caught the look on his face, because she got a bright, knowing grin at the sight of him.

Morgan slid into his bathroom across the marble floor and stripped, flicking the shower on with a wave. He stepped under the stream and washed quickly, scrubbing the dust and grime from his skin. Dread filled him as he touched the fine hairs below his waist. Should he trim? Was Aaron a hair kind of guy or a smooth kind of guy? He shook away the thoughts.

You aren’t having sex on the first date. This is Mister Right-and-Proper we’re talking about.

The truth in that made Morgan’s spirits sink.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded to his closet, planning to grab the shirt and pants from the suit Frey had made. When he opened the door, he was dumbstruck, finding dozens of shirts in different styles and colors, neatly hung, and separated by material and sleeve length. An assortment of slacks and trousers were folded over hangers on the other side, and several jackets, all in black, lined the far wall.

Morgan thanked Frey under his breath repeatedly, reaching for a light blue shirt with pearl white buttons. He chose a simple pair of black pants and snatched the loafers from his suit. He plucked several silver rings from his jewelry box, slipped them on different fingers, then opted for small, silver hoop earrings. He tousled his hair, sending a jolt of magic through it for a little extra lift, and braced himself to leave the room.

Of course his entire coven had found their way to the living room where Aaron waited, flanking him as he told a story about a recent police call.

Shane was belly laughing as Morgan approached. “They tried to run? Seriously?”

“Oh, my gods, it was so good.” Aaron grinned. “I hit my pull rune and flung the door of a lifted TS50 open in front of him. He smacked his head so hard, I felt it from twenty feet away!”

They all broke into laughter, and Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle along. They turned to him at the sound, and their eyes widened. Aaron stood to his feet at the sight of him with crinkled eyes.

“Wow, Morgan,” he breathed, “You look amazing.”

Morgan’s head swam. The ringing hit his ears again and the room swirled.

He was in a softly lit room. The fireplace crackled pleasantly, and delicious scents filled the air. A bright smile drew close. Someone took his hand.

His cheeks pulled tightly at the corners and his heart thudded in his chest as someone entered his space. “You look absolutely stunning,” he said.

A gentle laugh warmed his heart. “Meddai’r sêr wrth y lleuad.”

“Said the stars unto the moon,” Morgan repeated the words from his memory without so much as a thought, and Aaron’s eyes swelled.

“Did- Did Morgan just give someone a genuine compliment?” Daphne feigned shock.

“Pretty sure he did.” Shane sank back into the couch, feigning a look of horror. “It’s freakin’ me out. I’m gonna go study some more.”

“I hate you both,” Morgan said without taking his eyes off Aaron.

Aaron laughed as he reached out to take Morgan’s arm, running his thumb over his bicep. “Don’t listen to them. It gave me chills—the good kind.”

Morgan relaxed at the touch.

Aaron extended an arm toward the door. “Shall we?”

“Yes, please.” He shot his rotten friends a glare, making them giggle.

Aaron moved his hand to the small of Morgan’s back as they walked to the hall. Morgan gave his coven another glance over Aaron’s shoulder as they left, and the potpourri on the coffee table exploded into a shower of dried petals. Shane and Daphne howled with laughter, Frey clapping with glee as if it were a fireworks display.

The drive to Little Asia in the South District was quiet. Each of them stole glances at the other, occasionally at the same time, and they would turn away with a grin, blushing. Aaron’s tiny, red Canaba Sport was only big enough for the two of them, and while they weren’t touching, Morgan felt incredibly close to him. Aaron pulled into a small alley off the main road, guiding him to a dark corridor that had been hidden by a woven cloth. Morgan cast him a wary glance, but ducked through as he held the curtain back. The smell of soil and greenery hit his nose at the end of the tunnel, and they stepped out into a quaint but beautiful courtyard.

A circular laid brick pattern covered the ground beneath their feet. Dozens of flowering bonsai trees were scattered throughout the area, some of them set on the brick, and others on small display tables. Fairy lights—the manufactured sort—were strung overhead between the enclosed space created by surrounding apartment buildings, making it almost seem as if the stars were shining through the haze of the city lights. Aaron pulled a small chair away from a garden table in the center of the courtyard with a soft screech against the brick, gesturing for Morgan to sit.

“This is beautiful.” Morgan stared around as he sat.

“That’s very kind of you, young man.” Morgan jumped as a squat, elderly, Japanese woman appeared beside them, holding a wooden tray laden with a teapot and small cups. She placed the tray carefully on the table between them with a smile. “My husband tended these trees throughout our entire marriage. He treated them as if they were our children, and now I do the same in his memory.”

“That’s lovely.” Morgan gave her a kind twinkle.

“Morgan, this is Missus Taneki,” Aaron said with a warm smile, “Her and my Grams were good friends. I used to play in this courtyard as a boy when she and her husband weren’t serving guests.”

Morgan bowed softly to the woman. “Thank you for having us, Missus Taneki.”

She gave him a gentle bow in return. “My pleasure, dear. I hope you like the tea. It’s my favorite; jasmine and mint.” She patted Aaron sweetly on the shoulder before leaving through another woven curtain.

Morgan took the teacup Aaron passed him, inhaling deeply before taking a sip. It was fragrant and soothing on his tongue. “Your Grams? How long ago?” he asked tenderly, having noted the past tense.

Aaron shot him a sad smile. “Three years now. Mom doesn’t even know. I told her, but well... you know.”

Morgan wanted to reach out and grab Aaron’s hand. He moved to do so without thinking, but stopped, dropping his hand onto the table between them. Aaron chuckled and met his hand halfway, folding their fingers together, sending a spark through Morgan as he met the man’s eyes.

“I can’t... even imagine how hard that must’ve been for you,” Morgan said, “How hard it must still be. Lexi said your mom was in a car accident?”

“Yeah...” Aaron nodded, staring down at their joined hands with a heavy sigh. “I don’t... sorry, I don’t do well talking about it.”

“That’s okay. We can talk about something else,” he offered.

“No. No, you should know. She’s a big part of who I am.” Aaron lifted his eyes to meet Morgan’s. “I... Everyone says I blame myself, and I do sometimes, but I’m getting better about it. She had errands to run that day in the Central District. I promised to pick her up and take her, but I... overslept. Somnial escapism, my therapist calls it. Sleeping too much due to depression. Says I prefer my dreams to real life. I suppose... that was true at the time. I don’t even remember the dreams now.”

Morgan ran his thumb over Aaron’s knuckles in comfort.

“She couldn’t reach me. Gave up after about forty-five minutes and got a cab. Some jackass going over a hundred plowed through a red and...” Aaron shut his eyes with a trembling breath. “The cab was obliterated. The driver died on impact. The fact that she’s still breathing is nothing short of a miracle.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, but still he smiled. Lexi wasn’t lying when she said this man had been through far too much, and it made Morgan’s chest ache.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Morgan squeezed his hand. “Even now.”

“I do my best.” Aaron laughed through his nose, still smiling. “How’s your tea?”

“Wonderful. All of this is wonderful, Aaron,” Morgan whispered, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Aaron beamed at him. “Thank you for not throwing me out on my ass.”

He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t! Well... not twice anyway.”

Aaron laughed silently. “Okay, well, your turn.”

“What?”

“I shared something.” Aaron wrapped both hands around his. “Your turn.”

Morgan downed the rest of his tea with a gulp. “What do you want to know?”

Aaron pursed his lips, clearly a million questions fighting to get to his tongue. “Well, you said you don’t date. Why is that?”

“I just... don’t. Not since I got here anyway. I’ve had a few hookups, mostly in the heat of the moment, but nothing beyond that. Nothing like this.”

“What about before that? Before Etna?” Aaron ran his thumb over the back of Morgan’s hand.

“I don’t really remember. It’s... complicated.”

Aaron wagged his head gently. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Morgan sighed. “No, it’s not that... What do you know about me, Aaron? Why do you want to know me? I’m the guy everyone stays away from. Big, scary Morgan Fell—like you said. But you and Lexi... you just show up. No hesitation.”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah, big, scary Morgan Fell. I know that’s what you want everyone to think. I know it works on most people, but-”

“But not you,” Morgan said with a smirk.

Aaron flashed a grin. “Morgan, I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen your power. I literally watched you rip a dragon clean in half.”

“A drake. If dragons showed up in Etna, we’d be fucked.”

“With all of that power-” Aaron ignored him. “You could probably take this city by force. No one would be able to do a damn thing about it. You could level Esotech, rally the witches behind you, and name yourself a king. But the only thing I’ve ever seen you do here… is good.”

Morgan pulled back his hand and folded his arms across his chest, blowing a raspberry. “If I confessed right here and now to the people I’ve killed, you would have to take me in.”

“Okay, yeah,” Aaron said, hands still on the table as if hoping Morgan would return to them, “You’ve killed. I’m aware. So have I.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Why? Because I’m allowed to? Because it’s my job? If anything, that makes me worse than you, not better.”

“What?” Morgan narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “That’s—you’re mad, Officer Jones.”

“Adam Loretz,” Aaron said, looking smug.

Morgan jerked back at the name. His face went slack. That name dug up terrible feelings—brought horrible images to his mind. Loretz had been a serial killer with twenty-seven known victims. All of them young individuals that had gone out for a night of fun, never to return home. They’d been raped and brutally murdered, their mutilated bodies left to rot in alleys and abandoned buildings. “The Rave Ripper. What about him?”

Aaron released a heavy sigh, as if the subject had been weighing on him for years, just waiting for a chance to get it out. “It should’ve been our job to find him, Morgan. He killed nonstop for almost a year. No one was doing a damn thing about him. I tried, and almost got myself written up for disobeying a direct order. Then you came to town.”

Morgan poured himself another cup of tea.

“We have vids of him leaving The Spire,” Aaron pressed on, “With a young man that no one remembers, and a face the cameras couldn’t make out, despite being top of the line CCTV equipment. You’d been in the city, what, four months at that point?”

Morgan trembled slightly, recalling the events that led him to that night. A woman in the street, sobbing, screaming as if her heart had been torn from her chest. She begged the police to help her find her son. They shoved her to the ground, getting in their cars and driving away.

“No more murders after that night.” Aaron’s eyes drilled into him. “Loretz just... vanished.”