Chapter Twenty-nine

The email came to Morrisey’s personal account from a no-reply address and included only a few words.

Someone ordered a full background check on you, your parents, your birth and adoption records, you name it, a deep dive. Even your infant medical records.

Who sent this? Arianna? She might have the info and his email address. Jessa shouldn’t. Then again, she had gained access to his apartment. Farren would have shared this news face-to-face, right? Morrisey didn’t know Sykes well, but the man was a member of the team, in IT, and a traveler.

The “Who sent this?” gradually faded in priority to the message.

Someone had been sniffing around in Morrisey’s life. He”d been background checked on many occasions before, but someone had been digging, really digging into his parents and his childhood. They hadn’t been too particular about covering their tracks either if they’d been found out.

Why? Nothing out of the ordinary about him. Morrisey’s record spoke for itself. He’d never given anyone any reason to doubt him. Was this about Farren and their partnership? In the beginning, yeah, Morrisey had reservations, but Farren proved himself again and again.

Sorta.

Did this have to do with Morrisey recognizing travelers in human form? What if someone witnessed him talking to Jessa and knew her status? Then again, how much could Morrisey trust her?

He’d made a promise, yes, but Jessa hadn’t contacted him lately, and someone questioned Morrisey’s background. If FAET wanted the information, they could’ve run background checks before offering him a job.

He dialed Farren’s office extension. The phone rang three times before voicemail picked up. Same with his cell. Okay, where could the guy be? Morrisey dialed Arianna.

“Lower pits of hell. How may I direct your call?”

“Damn, woman. Do you always answer the phone like that?”

“Only when I know it’s you.”

“How could you be sure it’s me?”

“Your extension showed.”

Good point. “What if Leary or Farren used my phone?”

”First, I don”t see Leary coming near your apartment, and second, Farren left the complex earlier this evening, said he”d be back late.”

Which was precisely what Morrisey wanted to know. To tell Farren everything before he lost his nerve. “Thanks, Arianna. I was looking for Farren. I’ll catch up with him tomorrow.” He was about to hang up when a thought hit his brain and flew straight from his mouth. “Did you email me earlier about some records on me someone dug up?”

“Maaaaaybe.” The call disconnected.

Well, damn. So Arianna emailed. Why look out for Morrisey? Just because of his relationship with Farren? Or were there other reasons? If Leary found out, he’d possibly see her as a traitor. Why would she risk her job?

Something else to discuss with Farren, though that conversation wasn’t happening anytime soon. Maybe Morrisey should go out tonight and try finding Jessa. Prowling bars could be a temporary distraction until Farren came back.

Morrisey rose from the couch, got his keys, and strolled out to find himself a succuba. Succubus. Whatthehellever.

He rode the elevator from his subterranean cave in the gray abyss, a cold and clinical place despite Arianna’s best efforts and a seemingly endless supply of homemade baked goods.

Bratwurst brownies? Really?

Arriving at the first level, Morrisey felt pressure that had been slowly building. Training needed to be over already, and Morrisey in his own apartment again, three floors up rather than three floors down.

Not an option available to Farren, forced to live within the facility. A vice squeezed Morrisey’s heart. Yeah, he could deal a bit longer.

Morrisey had reached quite the state of inebriation before he’d entered his fourth bar. He’d shaken his tail before reaching the second.

Good thing he’d reconsidered driving, left his RAV4 at work, and caught an Uber three blocks from the compound.

No sign of Jessa or any of her familiar hosts. Morrisey had taken to weaving his way through crowds, searching faces for some sign.

He’d met four travelers who hadn’t noticed him. Right. Except for his height, nothing much about Morrisey stood out.

A man caught his eye, an attractive face framed by golden blond curls. Instead of guilelessly wide blue eyes, though, this man’s eyes were possibly gray. His lithe body was a little shorter than Farren’s but he distracted Morrisey by writhing against him out on the dance floor.

Fake Farren’s cologne stung Morrisey’s nose, nothing like the aromatic scent Real Farren wore, which brought to mind a summer storm, but good enough for pretending. How Morrisey longed to hold Farren, kiss him, love him. But how would that even work if they were from different species? Farren inhabited a human body, so everything probably worked the same. It had during their two encounters.

Morrisey longed to fuck him. But would doing so cement the bond, joining them together forever?

For approximately three and a half minutes, Morrisey had everything he could want in his arms. Comfort, oh, sweet comfort, like he hadn’t found before. Maybe not even with Craig.

The poor excuse for Farren brushed his lips against Morrisey’s cheek. ”Would you like to come to my place?” The words were high and nasally, nothing like Farren’s rich tenor.

Morrisey stepped back, seeing his dancing partner as just a man. A stranger. Someone he didn’t know and who, on second thought, didn’t look much like Farren after all.

”Sorry,” Morrisey replied, now eager to escape. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Normally, I don’t like being a Plan B, but just in case they don’t show…”

The smile Morrisey conjured wouldn’t fool anyone. He’d not felt this awkward in years. He backed away, a feeling of loss filling his heart. It’d just been a foolish, sweet dream, nothing more.

He pushed through the crowd in the opposite direction, feeling the sudden heat and closeness of the air. Air, he needed air. Sweet relief came when Morrisey finally fought his way free, leaving behind the packed bodies.

He breathed deeply several times. Did Jessa just have nothing to tell him? Or had something happened? Yeah, he really needed to let Farren know about her.

For now, he’d walk the four blocks to his apartment, taking the opportunity to smoke. No one would notice if he didn’t return to the compound tonight, would they? Sleep, he needed sleep, and to remove the ghost of holding Fake Farren from his mind.

He met few people on his way home. Walking in this neighborhood late at night likely wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. Then again, maybe remnants of his death wish remained.

Wait! Since joining the task force and working with Farren, Morrisey had lost some of his fatalism, and had even left the latest Agnes at home tonight.

He reached his apartment unscathed and settled onto the couch, surveying the wreckage of his life. Yeah, really should clean the place. No, wait. Jessa did. Get himself cleaned up, then. Maybe it was finally time to disconnect the landline, straighten himself out.

Would Arianna be interested in helping him make his apartment more presentable? Into a place he wouldn’t mind bringing a date?

The thought of dating brought Farren to mind.

God, Morrisey missed coming home to someone smiling, waiting for him. Of course, Craig’s smiles had been fewer and fewer at the end. Still, regardless of how they had ended the relationship, Morrisey wouldn”t trade their good times for anything.

He’d never rate a man like Farren, but what about the dancer? Morrisey’s apartment didn’t currently look like the result of vandalism. Should he have invited the dancer home?

Morrisey knew why he didn’t. It took knowing someone for attraction to follow. He’d been on a men’s softball team with Craig for two years before he’d turned one day and saw more than a teammate.

Had he reached the point with Farren after only a few weeks? Nah. Maybe Morrisey obsessed over Farren to avoid meeting anyone in real life.

If you think living with a cop was hard, how about living with someone who can’t even tell you what they truly do for a living? The little voice in the depths of Morrisey”s mind made an excellent point.

He sprawled on the couch, opening his jeans to slide his hand beneath his boxers. Already well on the way to hard, his cock felt silky against the roughness of his palm. He spat into his hand, then stroked himself several times, trying to imagine the blond from the dance floor.

Regardless of how he tried to focus, the image grew taller, blue eyes bright and penetrating.

Farren’s tenor would stroke down Morrisey’s body straight to his groin. I want you, he’d say, heat reflected in his eyes. Wait! Had he said those words in a dream?

“I want you too,” Morrisey mumbled aloud. He stroked faster, picturing a naked Farren lying across the lonely king bed in the bedroom. He’d look so good splayed out on the covers, tempting Morrisey to touch.

His skin would be soft yet firm, the lean muscles Morrisey barely got a look at even more impressive when not covered by a layer of fabric. The Farren in Morrisey’s fantasy gasped, pressing his nipples against Morrisey’s questing fingertips.

While he maintained professionalism at work, Farren brought pure passion into the bedroom. Morrisey’s thoughts suddenly took on a mind of their own, his dream Farren placing a firm hand on Morrisey’s chest, urging him onto his back.

With a wicked tilt to his lips, Fantasy Farren climbed over Morrisey much as he had their first night together, but using his hand to line them up.

Both Morrisey and Farren uttered a groan when Farren sank down onto Morrisey”s cock. Tight heat gripped him, and Morrisey groaned again when Farren rose and fell, a wicked smile on his soft lips as he bent down, kissing Morrisey, looking every inch a debauched angel.

Morrisey’s favorite kind.

He stroked faster, imagining every moan, every slide of skin against skin, or brush of lips over his face.

“Oh, damn! I’m coming!” Morrisey groaned out his release, pulsing into his hand, muscles clenching and relaxing. A few straggling aftershocks rocked him, causing more moans. Every muscle relaxed, and he sprawled, sated and breathing hard, on his old worn couch.

Exhaling and inhaling slowly brought him down from his orgasmic high, calming his wildly pounding heart. He opened his eyes to find cum on his belly and no Farren in sight. “It was good while it lasted.”

He yanked his T-shirt off and wiped up the mess, heart a little achy with the need for Farren.

A shower sobered Morrisey sufficiently for him to stand under the spray, deciding on changes needed in his life. 1. Quit drinking. 2. Quit smoking. 3. Eat better. Will would’ve rejoiced at being proven right.

Later, lying in bed, Morrisey relived the memories of Farren, lost in the hazy moments between wakefulness and sleep.

He jolted upright. What was that noise?

“Ah, Tenebris, I wondered when you might join us.”

Morrisey barely caught movement in the dark before a sharp stab hit his neck.

“Wha—?”

All went dark.