Chapter 18

"Are we day drinkers now?"Clint didn't wait for an answer as he polished off his second beer. Whatever drama he had going on in his life, he sought to drown it in booze.

"I have a prior engagement."

"Group therapy is your prior engagement."

I frowned at the good doctor. "A more important engagement."

"Sounds like a hot date to me." If only Diesel knew. Yes, there was a handsome man involved, all twenty-three of them. He baited me, hoping I'd give him some inkling of my personal life.

"You'll never know. You'll have to masturbate to your own imagination."

"Vex, you're the last person I think about when my hard—" He paused, hand covering his mouth. "Yep, right underneath Mrs. Garland, and I've hated that woman and her algebra since eighth grade."

"Just make sure you don't scream my name when Calum mounts you."

"What's sex with Havres like?" Clint made it an off-hand statement. I'm sure the thought hadn't even crossed his mind before he voiced it. It was both his most and least charming trait.

I folded my arms over my chest. "Since the gentleman brought it up…"

Doc leaned back with a frown. He never liked when we turned the conversation to him, which meant we did it often. When he didn't answer, the shadows wrapped around his face, revealing the demon. Unlike the good doctor, Havres was more than happy to play.

"He's a prude. I make sure he's less prudish."

"How much less?" Diesel asked what we were all thinking.

"His wardrobe has considerably more leather now." Doc's face pushed through for a moment before vanishing again. "No, no, Doc. Not yet. The sexy drawer in his nightstand had to be upgraded to a?—"

Doc smacked his own face. When he came back around, Havres had vanished. His eyes held a wild glimmer I had never seen before. He let out a slight growl before running his hands down the side of his face, smoothing his beard. Intellectually, I knew he shared head space with the demon, but I hadn't considered the logistics of cohabitating a single body. Did that technically make it a threesome?

"I have so many questions," I said.

Doc glared, and I bit my tongue. Even with a demon waiting for vengeance, it was Doc who worried me. I didn't want to push my luck and be on the receiving end of his pent-up rage.

"Sentinel threatened to kill me the other day." A hush fell over my compatriots. "Not quite kill, I suppose. But I think with some prodding, I could have gotten him there."

"He came after you?" Doc sounded surprised. Had he not been taking notes during these sessions? "What did you do, Vex?"

It's true what they say about the powered criminals in Vanguard. A carefully laid question, and we can't resist the urge to explain our plans. Of course, I wanted to share. How else were they going to comprehend the psychological damage I currently inflicted on my arch nemesis? It was too good to resist.

"He has his little group of friends that always hang out at that cafe and dive bar. I increased my real estate portfolio."

I waited patiently for the gasps. They each wore a confused expression. It was Clint who slowly raised his hand. He held it there until I pivoted on the bench, giving him a nod to speak. "Am I missing something?"

The sigh couldn't sound any more exasperated. I surrounded myself with feeble-minded cretins. "I own the buildings. With a snap of my fingers, I not only ruin Bernard Castle's day, but his friends suffer my wrath. Torturing him isn't the only way to wound Vanguard's mightiest hero."

"Sounds petty," Diesel said.

"Overly complicated," Clint added.

Even the Doc offered his commentary. "They're right. Hurting small business? That's kind of a dick move, Vex." When Havres rose to the surface, he scoffed a simple "Lame" before fading away.

"I'm glad to see you three are all brawn and no brains. Why do I even bother?" Clint smiled before I glared at him. "That's not a compliment."

I shimmied out from the bench, pulling my coat off the hook behind the table. I'd had enough of these fools. I had put in my mandatory appearance. I shouldn't have expected them to understand my scheme. Diesel and Clint didn't have a quarter between them. Doc had money, but not nearly enough to buy such a monumental victory.

"Are you storming off?" asked Diesel.

Perhaps. I needed to find friends with financial means who comprehended the magnitude of what I unleashed on Bernard. Though, if such a cabal ever existed, every person sitting at the table would be somebody I'd stab in the back. I'm sure they would have a similar goal. This might be why I suffered with the dredges of Vanguardian society.

But no, I was not storming off. As much as I enjoyed these little sessions, I had other plans that needed overseeing. My presence hadn't been required or even requested, but it gave me an opportunity to share the company of a certain handsome individual. We'd see just how much agony I could endure on his behalf.

"If it fits your narrative, then yes. Or maybe, as you put it, I have a hot date."

* * *

"Don't lick the dinosaur bones!"

Words a grown man never thought he'd need to say. Yet, here we were, nearly fifty kids running around like caffeinated heathens, leaving greasy fingers on millennia-old artifacts. When the organizer said we were hosting a sleepover, I imagined kids nestled away in their sleeping bags. This… chaos… it bordered on sinister.

"Mr. Vex." Ike tugged on my pants. He could be anywhere from five to fifteen and I wouldn't be able to tell. However, I knew a runt when I spotted one. Once upon a time, I had been the littlest kid on the playground. "Those kids are being mean."

It took a moment before I realized he expected action. Searching for the other chaperones, I found them occupied with kids of their own. I had seen buildings burn and the occupants run with less vigor than these children. My back straightened. I was Damien Vex, one of the most terrifying men in the world, and I would not be bested by toddlers.

"Come." When I walked, he didn't let go of the loop on my pants. I reached down, taking his hand. We had taken over the dinosaur wing of the Natural History Museum. The children in question were a trio of boys standing beneath a reconstructed T-Rex. It struck me as symbolic. I'd have to not joke about their tiny arms.

I slowed my approach. Treating it like a hostile takeover would land me in hot water. Summoning powers and hurling them into the void might raise questions. I found myself without the use of my usual tactics. In hindsight, I was the least qualified person in the room to handle this situation. My ego wouldn't let me sulk away from a trio of tiny terrors.

"You." I pointed at Vinny, the biggest of the three. "Ike says you're picking on him."

"He's—"

"Think carefully before you speak." So far, nobody cried. Maybe I had those parental instincts people speak about. "Or I?—"

A large hand came out of nowhere and rested on my chest. When he rescued me before, I felt humiliated. Now, as Won-Ho squatted down, I breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't need to fight my battles when powers were involved. However, if the villain stood under four feet, I'd gladly tag him in.

"What's going on here?"

"They're being mean," Ike spit out.

"He's being annoying," Vinny said.

"Am not."

Won held up his hand. "Gentlemen, can you politely tell Ike what he did that bothered you?"

"He…" Vinny considered his words. "He kept poking me."

"Ike," Won-Ho handled the situation with grace.

"Yeah, but?—"

Won-Ho held up a hand. "What was your reasoning?"

"I wanted to play tag."

"Can you ask them?"

Ike let go of my belt loop. "Would you guys play tag?"

Vinny kind of shrugged. When he saw Won's face, he gave a slow nod. "I suppose."

"Ike, make sure you use your words." As he stood, he pointed at Vinny. "Being nice doesn't cost you anything."

Vinny lunged forward, tapping Ike. "Tag. You're it."

And without any fanfare, the children ran off. They went from anger to mirth in seconds. Childhood friendships confused me. As an adult, creating bonds for something as simple as tag required a thousand decisions. Had it really been that easy when I was young?

"Damien, smacking a child is frowned upon."

I gasped. "I would never." I pursed my lips as I thought about it. "Maybe throw them into a supernatural void for eternity, sure. But I'd never strike one."

"Father of the year," Won-Ho spoke as he scoured the museum. I didn't have to ask to know there was a single individual he searched for. I made sure he got an invitation to supervise. Kickball had been the first step in helping him tear down those walls. There were plenty of places where I shut down and turned into a ruthless man, but not here. I couldn't tell if it was Won-Ho or the club that thawed my cold heart.

I rested a hand on his shoulder. "He's by the cave drawings."

Sliding down his back, I let it linger just above his ass. With a gentle shove, we walked toward the exhibit. I didn't move my hand as we crossed the room. "Do you want some alone time?"

He shook his head. "You can join me." He flashed a smile. "Thank you. I needed the push. I'm thinking the tabloids have it all wrong."

"Not entirely," I grinned. "Seeing you happy… it's not all bad."

"Won!" Dae's face lit up at the sight of the man. "Annyeonghaseyo."

"Annyeonghaseyo. What do we have here?" Won-Ho pointed to the rock wall covered in pictographs. "Are those drawings?"

Dae turned around, pointing to a group of drawings. "Those are people. I can draw better than that."

They started going back and forth, Won-Ho asking what each character might mean. Whatever parental instinct I lacked, he had in spades. He navigated the kid's enthusiasm and endless questions with a deft hand. At first, I thought it was a skill he had learned as a lawyer, but he knew exactly how to get the kid's attention and redirect the conversation. More than that, the longer they talked, the more animated Won-Ho became. The gay bar might have shown him the possibilities of accepting himself, but with every curious question, Dae restored parts of a broken man.

"Well?" Won-Ho asked.

"Sorry, I was lost in thought."

Dae's eyes narrowed before repeating the question. "What's your favorite dinosaur?"

"That's a tough question." I turned about, looking at all the different models. It'd be easy to say the T-Rex in the middle of the room. "I don't think I have a favorite."

"Everybody has a favorite," Dae said. "Mine is the triceratops."

He grabbed Won's hand, pulling him along towards one of the models. The skeleton had been reassembled, and next to it stood an equally impressive recreation of the dinosaur. Dae rattled off facts as if he were a walking encyclopedia. Won-Ho never faltered, knowing exactly the right questions to ask. While they chatted with excitement, I wondered how much money the museum had invested in the exhibit. It wasn't a conversation for an enthusiastic child. I'd leave that to Won-Ho as I contemplated how a museum would look on the books.

"Okay, kiddos," shouted an organizer, "come get your sleeping bags."

Dae froze. While all the kids headed toward the collection of sleeping bags, he held his position next to Won-Ho. He watched with apprehension. It took a moment before I realized he was watching the groups.

I flagged down Ike. His little legs changed directions as he sped in my direction. How such a small child had so much energy baffled me. He ended his stampede with a slight hop and a salute. No amount of superpowers would overcome this bundle of chaos.

"Ike, this is Dae." He eagerly waved. "I was wondering if he could be your buddy for the sleepover."

Ike's eyes went wide as he nodded. He leaned to the side, looking past the three of us. "Triceratops are cool."

"They're Dae's favorite."

Won-Ho gave Dae a gentle nudge. His fear vanished as Ike grabbed his hand. They bound off toward the sleeping bags, eagerly spitting out facts about a long-dead reptile. When I turned around, Won-Ho stared at me, smiling.

"What?"

"You're not half bad at this."

"Which means I'm half very bad at this."

"Are you staying?"

"Sleeping on the floor? That's where I intended to make a hasty exit. I'll be back in the morning with breakfast and coffee for everybody."

My answer made him frown. His hands had moved into his pockets, and at any moment, I thought he'd kick an imaginary rock. Did he want me to stay? The thought of curling up on a floor covered in who knows what made my skin crawl. My sheets had been imported for a reason. Nothing about?—

"Who said anything about sleeping?"

Halt. Stop. Rewind. I was about to ask if he meant staying up all night to monitor the miscreants from running amok in the museum. The grin tugging at the edge of his lip said otherwise. I suddenly imagined Won-Ho naked, pinned against a cave wall painting. My cock thoroughly supported the imagery.

"Dammit. I guess we're having a sleepover."