Chapter 8

Nowhere.

That’s where Quentin wanted to start, which was different from where he needed to start. He’d meant it when he’d said he should’ve done this weeks ago, but he’d been too scared, and he hadn’t known who to turn to.

If he couldn’t trust the Chief of Security, who could he trust? Who else could help him? Help his mother?

With Kaine sitting next to him, at least he didn’t have to look at him, which made this easier. If it could be easy.

None of this had been easy since the shower, and he still didn’t know about the witch and shifter thing. While every culture had them, he’d always thought it was a way to explain things before science, not that they were real. And if they were real…

“Quentin…” Kaine’s voice was firm. “I can feel you spinning out.”

“Sorry. I’m still getting past the fact I have magic, and you can turn into an animal.” His eyes widened. “Is that rude?”

“No, asking what someone shifts into can be…it depends on the situation and your relationship.”

“Hello, Vegas-husband. I should know something like that.”

“And when you start using your magic, you’ll figure it out fast. But it’s another secret you’ll need to keep. Let’s keep them to a minimum for the moment.”

Curiosity burned through his veins. All he knew was that Kaine was warm to touch and that he wasn’t a dragon. No, he was something much rarer. He crossed wolves and such off the list. Was there even a list of shifter species…kinds…what were they called?

Kaine cleared his throat.

Quentin blinked and refocused on the other issue. “Mum is on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean. It’s the one she likes best, but she’s also been to the US and up through Scandinavia. She’s a performer; it’s what she loves. I was an accident that they tried to put right by getting married…getting married didn’t solve anything, by the way.” He shot Kaine a look. They weren’t married. They were fated mates, which was much more serious and, as Kaine had said, much more permanent.

And dangerous.

Were shifters and witches warned about it? Had he missed out on some important lessons because his parents hadn’t known what he was? Maybe if he had known, he’d have realized Kaine was a shifter, and he wouldn’t have said anything. Until next time they crossed paths, if Kaine was to be believed.

There was nothing about him that suggested he was a liar. Usually, he got a vibe off people who had bad intentions…oh that was because of his magic.

And the serial killer jokes he’d been making? Had his magic been warning him that his life as he knew it was going to end, but he hadn’t understood the warning?

“I’m going to need her name and the name of the liner.” Kaine passed him the notebook.

Quentin wrote down both.

“I will make that call before we leave in the morning. You will be tempted to call her, but I suggest you don’t break your usual contact routine. And she will not be aware of the security detail.” Kaine reclaimed his notebook. “Do you have your appendix?”

“Why?”

“In case you need a cover story for a few weeks. If people vanish, it tends to be noticed.”

“Yes.”

Kaine made some notes in the old alphabet. But he wasn’t writing in French or English. He noted that Quentin was watching. “You are bursting to ask about it.”

All he could do was nod. “What language are you writing in?”

“French.”

“Then it’s in code.”

“It is. But it’s not a substitution cypher. It’s more complicated than that.”

“You do it like it’s a real language.”

“I’ve been doing it a long time. Plus, I only ever write it with my left hand. My right hand is for the things I want people to read.”

“You taught yourself to write with your left hand, too?”

“I went to boarding school in France at the age of twelve. I wasn’t big, and I was fairly nerdy, so I spent a lot of time in the library reading and teaching myself things. By the time I was shifting and had learned the truth… well, it was all very useful.”

Quentin smiled. He’d spent as much time out of the house as possible, especially when Dad wasn’t away. He’d played sports and tutored other kids for money. Until they’d moved here. Then he’d spent a horrible six months not understanding anything because the French he’d learned in school until that point wasn’t good enough for much more than buying a loaf of bread and a coffee. “I can’t imagine you being an unpopular nerd.”

Kaine gave him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s the school where the royals go. I’m the son of King Sebastien’s butler. He promised my father to treat me as his own.”

That was the first lie Kaine had told him. Quentin wasn’t sure what it was that gave him away, but he tasted the bitterness.

“I didn’t belong at that school mixing with the rich and elite, and they knew it. It was a relief to graduate. University was much better.”

That wasn’t a lie. So that meant the lie was to do with the previous king. Was Kaine a royal bastard? He wanted to ask, but that definitely wasn’t polite, and he didn’t want another lie from his lips. So he filed the question away for later.

“Good job at derailing the conversation. How were you approached, and what did they ask you to do?”

“I naturally derail conversations. It’s my…is that part of my magic?”

“Only because you can’t shut off and shield yourself. Your meds can only do so much, and perhaps being my mate is strengthening your magic, in which case your meds are going to struggle.”

“Which means I’ll struggle. Joy.” He took a couple of swallows. It was good whiskey. The kind that was on the very top shelf. He should be sipping and savoring unless this kind of thing was part of his life now. His gaze slid to Kaine. There were a few things he could get used to, but he didn’t like feeling as though he were trapped and without choice.

Not that he hadn’t been trapped before. It was just a more familiar cage. One that his friends could relate to as they all juggled jobs and uni and living at home or struggling in share houses.

That struggle would be gone…but he was now a witch with a mate, and it all sounded dangerous and not in the fun and exciting ways like zip-lining or abseiling or any of the other adventure activities on offer to tourists.

“I will arrange lessons.” He tapped his pen on the paper. “Stay on track. When were you approached?”

“Three weeks ago. It was a phone call during the day when I was at home alone.” He’d checked the street and out the back to see if he was being watched, but no one had been there.

“What do you remember about the call?” Kaine wrote as he spoke, looking at the page, not him.

“English accent, polite but clear that if I told anyone, my mother would suffer.”

“Anything odd in the weeks preceding?”

“No.”

Kaine glanced up. “Nothing? You weren’t followed? No weird calls?”

He shook his head and took another drink. “I don’t think so. The week before, there were some Brits in the bar, talking to all the staff and being super friendly. They were in every night for about three days, and they kind of made my skin crawl. But that’s not weird.”

“No, but it might be relevant. I’ll have someone take descriptions and go through the entry records.” He made several dot points that were only a few letters long.

“Abbreviations?”

“Yes. What did they ask you to do?”

“They wanted a copy of the security camera feed that watches the building over the road.”

Kaine grunted as if he’d been hit. That building was important. “How do you give it to them?”

“I take it to a post office box.”

“When is your next drop off?”

“Friday.”

Kaine was silent as he wrote. Filling up the rest of the page and flicking to the next one.

“Is it bad?” He didn’t want to be responsible for getting someone killed.

“Well, it’s not good. They would’ve researched you and decided you were the easiest target to break. That your father works at the castle is a bonus; perhaps they’re hoping for a way in there.”

Quentin laughed. “He doesn’t tell me shit, and I never go there. I mean, I did when I first arrived, and there was a school excursion, but not since then.”

“You help with this job. They implicate you in the fallout, and then you end up working for them because you don’t want to go to prison for twenty years.” Kaine shrugged.

“I don’t want to go to prison. I didn’t want to do this, and while Dad may not care what happens to Mum, I do. Or was that a lie?”

“Not a lie. The other man lost his mother and both siblings. Dead before he’d even finished the job.”

Quentin’s eyes widened. “Are you saying she might be dead already?” If so, he’d been doing it for nothing. He’d put people in danger…

“Do you know who her next of kin is?”

“Me, since I turned eighteen.” He drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. “If something had happened, I’d have been told.”

“Correct. For the moment, we can assume they are waiting for the next trigger.”

“What does that mean?”

“That something needs to happen before they take out your mother, up the stakes, and make their next request. And I think I know what that is.” Kaine made a couple more notes and then closed the notebook. “Congratulations, you now work for me. It pays far better than bar work, though you’ll maintain that cover.”

“I thought I needed to disappear?” He wanted to disappear and hide from the danger. He wasn’t a spy. And he was pretty sure that’s what Kaine was, despite his title of Chief of Security. Or maybe because of his title.

“You might. It’s always useful to have a few excuses prepared. Appendicitis. A sick relative. Something that explains you dropping off the face of the Earth for a couple of days. Hospitals are easy because I can leave a paper trail,” he said as if this were normal.

“Do you need to do this often?”

“What? Disappear people or stop threats to the country and other paranormals?”

“All of it, I feel like I’ve just married into, like, this super weird, dangerous family, and I’m going to end up dead.”

Kaine held up a finger. “Firstly, being married would be easier because then our lives wouldn’t be bound. But yes, you have married into a weird family that you don’t know the half of yet, and I’m not prepared to tell you until this is over?—”

“Because if I’m caught, I’ll spill.”

“Yes. The people I’m dealing with aren’t fucking around. They are quite happy to kill. And no offense, but to them, you are human collateral, so worth even less than a paranormal.”

“But if they found out about us?—”

“They’d kill you to be rid of me, as it would leave a massive hole in National Security. Which is why protecting you is now at the top of my list.”

To protect himself. And the country. Not because Quentin’s life mattered. And while he was used to not mattering, it still stung. Kaine sighed and his expression softened. “At the moment, your life is all I can promise you.” He put his hand on Quentin’s thigh. “I know that’s not enough. I can sense your disappointment.”

Was it disappointment? He didn’t know what he wanted out of this. It was all too, too weird, too sudden. “I don’t know how I feel.”

Kaine grunted. “Elated. Surprised. Why the fuck now?”

“Because you need me to crack open your case.”

“Yeah, one way or another, this is going to end.” He stood up, finished the rest of his drink, and dropped the robe on the floor—giving Quentin a glorious view of the globes of his tight ass—before sliding into bed.

Now, they were both naked and under the sheets.

“And then what happens?” Quentin wasn’t sure if he was asking about them or work.

“If we’re both alive, we can actually figure out our own shit. If we’re dead, it won’t matter.” Kaine glanced at him. “Can you kill the light? I need to get some sleep.”

Quentin stared at him. He didn’t know how much this hotel room cost, but the intention hadn’t been to come here to sleep. His body was caught somewhere between needing to kiss Kaine again and wanting to shove him out of bed and move as far away as possible, as though all of this was his fault.

“You’re going to sleep after…after everything.”

Kaine tucked one hand behind his head, the curve of his biceps begging to be licked, and studied him. “We already decided I wasn’t going to make midnight phone calls.”

Quentin hated himself for asking, but it had to be done. “What about the mates thing?”

“We are already mates…what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” And he didn’t know what he expected from Kaine. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned off the light and lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling as though there should be more. Which was ridiculous, as they’d only just met. How could there be more? Had he imagined the heat?

Kaine reached out and pulled him close. “The forming of the bond is going to play havoc with your emotions. There is a need to be with your mate.” He closed the gap, his chest and hips against Quentin’s back and butt. “But every…interaction strengthens it, and I am wary of overloading you when you aren’t used to magic.”

That was the lamest excuse he’d ever heard. “What makes you think I want an interaction, anyway?”

“Because I am used to dealing with magic every single day, and all your emotions are washing over me. The confusion, the distrust, the desire, and the fear. I recognize them because I feel much the same. We don’t know each other well enough to trust. I am worried about your safety?—”

“Only because you don’t want to die.”

“I want the chance to get to know my mate.”

That wasn’t a lie, which made it easier to swallow. “And what if this is never over? What if I’m now stuck in this weird magical nightmare?”

“At least we’re stuck in it together? I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know about witches and shifters, so I can’t help you navigate this. It has always been my reality.”

Quentin nodded. And it was the truth. It was him and every other human who didn’t know who had been living the lie.

Kaine pressed a kiss to the back of Quentin’s neck. “I cannot hold you like this all night, or neither of us will sleep, and by the time we walk out of here, the bond will be well and truly made.”

He untangled himself.

“Can it be unmade?”

There was a moment of pause that he may not even be aware of with another person, but he was already starting to recognize Kaine’s tells.

“The bond is forever.” He rolled onto his back, not touching Quentin at all.

Quentin turned onto his side to face him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Kaine gave a low laugh as if he found being called out amusing. “I did. And even though this is unexpected, I like the idea of having a mate. Of having someone to call mine. And someone to call me theirs. And you have no idea how much effort it is taking for me to keep my distance and give you space.” His voice lowered. “When all I want to do is pull you beneath me and claim you properly.”

Quentin swallowed. Saying things like that didn’t make it any easier because the need to touch Kaine thrummed in his blood. Was it lust, or was it magic? Would he be forever questioning what was real and what wasn’t?

But if magic was real, then did that make what he was feeling real?

“So we’re not going to have sex until this is over? Because that seems like a really bad idea, especially if there’s a chance that one of us, both of us, could die.”

They were now facing each other. His eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, and he could make out Kaine’s shape and see the glint of light in his eyes.

“You aren’t worried about your magic becoming stronger?”

“You said I’d get lessons.” Instead of it being something he couldn’t control, it was something he could use. It wasn’t a defect, and he wasn’t lazy or stupid.

He was a witch.

A thought that almost made him giddy.

For the first time in his life, he knew who he was instead of trying to be who others expected him to be.

Kaine’s fingertips trailed over Quentin’s cheek. “Sleep on it. Things are different in daylight.”