Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(27)

Given the circumstances, Tony thought it best not to argue. The faerie took two steps back, murmured an unintelligible incantation, and cut a glowing slit in the air with the tip of his now spotless sword.

"Wait!" Tony cried. From the standpoint of apprehension, what the fae was doing couldn't be good.

The fae looked at him like he was nuts. Probably he was, but it didn't matter. Ignoring him, the faerie took hold of the slit's shimmery edges, stretching them wide enough to slip inside. Once all of him was in there, the magic door to wherever winked out of existence.

Tony's feet agreed to move again.

"Crap," he gasped, because his sudden loss of balance had dumped him onto his hands and knees. At the same time, he became aware that he had the mother of all hard-ons, the thing pounding like a jackhammer between his thighs. This wasn't just because Sword Guy was sexy. Among other things, faerie dust was an aphrodisiac. Tony had sucked up a lot of it.

The pain of the monster boner made him want to curl into a ball. Well, that or call his hot fireman and screw him for an hour or so.

The thought of Chris intensified his arousal. Tears squeezed from Tony's eyes. He couldn't even curse; the surge of need was so powerful. Naturally, this was when he heard sirens. His requested backup was finally approaching.


If he were caught like this, he'd never live it down. Gay wolf gets hard-on for homicidal faerie. That was years of jokes begging to be cracked.

There really was no question what he'd do. Desperation drove him onto his feet. He ran around the corner of the repair shop to a scrubby patch of weeds. It was all the cover he could find. He had his cock out in nanoseconds, zipper whining, right fist pumping his unnaturally engorged rod while he drove the left down to squeeze his balls. He couldn't separate pain from pleasure. The ache of need was the same as the bliss of racing to fulfill it. He had to rub one off now, before the cavalry arrived. Chris's mouth flashed into his mind: the sound of him sucking, the feel of his tongue working around the rim. Tony didn't fight the image. It was making his pleasure surge. Pressure built, swelled . . .

His nerves went supernova half a breath before his testicles contracted.

His seed hit the ground hard and copious. Tony bit back the moan that wanted to come out with it.

He couldn't quiet his exhalation. Luckily, the climax was quickly done. Tony cleaned up, zipped, and returned to the parking lot. He'd wiped most of the sweat from his brow when two squad cars squealed up. He shielded his eyes with one arm to keep the headlights from blinding him.

The first uniform to exit his vehicle swaggered over like a cowboy. "Lookie who we've been called to help," he drawled. "Where's your perp, Detective Lupone? Did he run away when he found out a wolf of your persuasion wanted to cuff him?"

"Funny," Tony said. "Did your mother help you make up that joke?"

It was a stupid comeback, but the other policemen laughed. Yet another awkward moment made better with humor.

"I was chasing a fae," he explained, his weariness complicated. "He magicked himself away when I cornered him. Maybe one of you could call the forensic psychic to see if he left trace behind."

"I'll do it," said a cop Tony thought was called Jessup. That they all knew him was no surprise. The RPD only had one openly gay werewolf.

"You need a lift somewhere?" asked the cowboy. He'd made his joke, so he was being respectful now.

"Yes," Tony said. "To the Elm and Fifth subway stop. My brother Rick is mopping up a fight there."

Tony guessed he looked pretty ragged. The cowboy's partner got out and held the blue-and-white's door for him.





CHAPTER FIVE


THE faerie Tony chased to the repair shop had indeed killed someone. Tony and the uniforms arrived on the subway platform to find EMTs sucking up dissipating sparkles with a handheld vacuum. They weren't collecting evidence. The volatile magic dust had medical applications, and the vacuum canister preserved it. Rick seemed upset about them hoovering up the victim but was controlling his emotions. Tony guessed he'd arrived in time to see Sword Guy's opponent die.

Tony didn't like explaining he'd lost his man, but Rick absorbed the news absently. Per usual for a homicide, too many cops milled around the scene. On this occasion, their presence was especially pointless. A couple chunks had been knocked out of the station's concrete, as if something fast-moving had hit them. Aside from that, once the sparkles were vacuumed up, you couldn't tell a murder had occurred. Tony had no idea how they'd pursue the case. The combination of no body, no trace, and a killer who could poof himself away didn't seem promising.

"Where's the victim's sword?" he asked, remembering the report of the fight that had led them here.

Rick jerked as if coming out of a dream. "I don't know. I didn't see it when I came in."

The cowboy who'd given Tony a ride said he and his partner would search the tracks. No cop in his right mind wanted some commuter finding a potentially magical fae weapon. Tony could tell the uniforms were excited to be part of a homicide. If he were lucky, they'd end up feeling indebted to him for getting them involved.

No wind so ill it doesn't blow someone good, he thought cynically.

Rick took a statement from the RTA employee who, along with Rick, had tried to save the victim with first-aid. The human was more openly shaken than Tony's brother. The skewered faerie had been female. Big guys like the transit cop didn't like seeing delicate women die. It didn't matter that a pureblood, male or female, had the juice to tear any and all of them apart. Instinctive responses to seemingly vulnerable people were hard to get over.